Chapter 12 Austin
TWELVE
AUSTIN
At the construction site, the midday sun was already hot as fuck, but I didn’t mind the heat.
It soaked into my skin, loosening the knots in my back and slicking sweat down my spine.
It was the kind of heat that made the air shimmer off a tin roof and left the wood smelling like sap and sunburn.
The Midwest always did that—made you think summer was over, then blasted you with an unexpected heat wave.
It was one of the things I missed most when I had moved away—familiar Michigan mornings that started breezy and cool, then transitioned to a warmth that left your muscles languid.
The construction crew was busy framing the inside of what once was a barn at Star Harbor Farms. Elodie Darling had somehow befriended the local Amish community and wrangled a deal that resulted in an incredible barn raising.
Wes’s construction company was now tasked with framing the inside to be transformed into a farm-to-table restaurant that Cal would run.
I looked around at the stacks of wood and the beams already going up, and I could see it.
As a kid, I had always wanted to go to Star Harbor Farms to pick a pumpkin or go on a hayride, but my mother wouldn’t have been caught dead in Dad’s town.
As was typical, I had been relegated to the outskirts, an outsider always looking in, and I’d never gotten to experience the charm of a family pumpkin patch.
I remembered driving through Star Harbor, sitting in the car with the windows cracked, watching other kids carry pumpkins too big for their arms. Once, I’d begged.
My mom had only lit a cigarette and told me to stop acting poor.
Elodie Darling had taken over the farm with the goal of bringing it back to its former glory, and I couldn’t help but smile. I could already see how Winnie would tear through the corn maze or consume countless cider doughnuts without a second thought. I chuckled to myself.
“What’s got you grinning like a fool? Hot date last night or just thinking about your babysitting duties?” Scott, a guy in his forties and known to stir the pot, grinned.
I looked at him but didn’t engage.
“Leave Mary Poppins alone.” Jackson snorted. “He’s the hottest manny in Michigan. We should all be so lucky.”
Scott whistled. “Hell, I’d be a manny, too, if it meant spending all my free time with Selene Darling. That woman’s a whole meal.”
That did it.
My jaw flexed. I wasn’t blind—Selene was beautiful, but there was something about hearing it from Scott’s mouth that made it sound wrong.
Like they didn’t see the woman she was.
But was I really any better? My words still echoed, cocky and low: You can think about me later. When you touch yourself.
Where the hell did I get the balls to say that? The audacity to think that a woman like Selene should be spoken to that way.
As I berated myself, the image of her smile and flushed cheeks flashed in my mind. A part of me hoped she not only didn’t hate it, but also liked it a little bit. At least it didn’t seem like she was holding it against me.
“Will you buffoons get to work? Otherwise I’m calling Wes, and trust me, he is in no mood to put up with any of your bullshit.” Cal’s stern voice echoed through the empty barn. “He also said if one more board goes up crooked, he’s lighting this place on fire . . . again.”
The crew chuckled at the crass joke—the barn had been on fire only a few months ago—but we softened at the mention of our absent boss’s name.
The joke landed, but no one laughed long. Not when the weight of Wes’s absence still hung over the jobsite like dust in the rafters.
Scott looked up. “Hey, I’ll take the heat if that gets him out of that fucking house.”
Murmurs and agreements and head nods rippled through the crew. Wes’s accident had taken more than just his leg. It had taken its toll on his mental health, too, and we all could sense it. He’d been holed up in his house for weeks, only opening the door for a select few.
Cal was one of them. “Yeah, I know,” he murmured but changed the subject. “Hey, it’s hot today. I brought waters and Gatorades—don’t work yourselves to death in here.”
I caught his eye, and he tipped his chin toward the barn door. I pulled a rag from my rear pocket and used it to wipe the sweat from the back of my neck as I followed him outside. I stepped into the sunlight, squinting against the harsh rays.
“You still in for another game?” Cal asked.
I nodded before swiping a light-blue Gatorade from the cooler at my feet. I uncapped it and took a long, deep swallow. “I told you I could cover—for as long as you needed me.”
Cal’s lips pressed together and he nodded. “All right,” he said, “just making sure you were going to follow through.”
I swallowed down a heavy sigh. Cal barely knew me, but people in my past always seemed to think I didn’t measure up. I had no reason to believe Cal was any different. I may be young, but I was getting really fucking tired of the expectation that I was a fuckup.
I was showing up every morning and evening for Selene and Winnie, then hauling ass in between to bust my balls on the jobsite.
Most nights I was too dog-tired to do anything like go out or chase some tail, so I spent my evenings lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling, and trying to ignore the muffled sounds I heard coming from the duplex next door.
Sometimes I’d catch her laugh through the open window, soft and low, and I’d have to roll over and bury my face in the pillow just to get her out of my head.
“Yeah.” It was all I could muster through my frustration.
I was used to being underestimated, but lately it was starting to bug me more than I cared to admit.
“So things are working out with your neighbor, I take it?” he asked.
I paused mid-drink to look at Cal. His stance was wide with his arms crossed over his chest and the familiar line creasing between his eyebrows.
It was no wonder he and my brother were friends.
They had the same grumpy-older-brother routine down pat.
It was like they were passing me around like a project they could fix up with enough elbow grease and a few stern lectures.
I stuffed my free hand into my pocket. “The kid’s a lot of fun. I don’t mind helping out.”
He nodded in a way that told me my answer was almost good enough, but not quite up to his standards.
Older-brother speech incoming in three, two, one . . .
“You know . . .” He cleared his throat. “You seem good with her. Don’t screw it up by pretending it’s all just for laughs.”
My defensiveness reared its ugly head. “What is it about waking up at five a.m. or hanging out after my full-time job that says I’m not willing to go the extra mile? I’m taking it fucking seriously, okay?”
Cal’s wide-eyed shocked expression mirrored my own internal surprise. I hadn’t meant to bite his head off, but his comment had hit something tender beneath my skin.
His palms raised up. “We’re all just looking out for Selene and Winnie. I didn’t mean anything by it. We care about them. That’s all.”
I finished my Gatorade in a single drink and tossed the empty bottle into the trash. “Yeah, well, I care about them too.”
“All right.” Cal nodded. “Noted. I’ll give it a rest then.” His attention flicked over my shoulder before drawing back to me. “Better look alive, kid. Looks like both our bosses are headed this way.”
I turned to find Selene walking next to her sister.
The breeze kicked up just enough to rustle the trees along the back field, and then there she was—like some goddamn daydream—walking beside Elodie with her sunglasses pushed into her hair and her sundress catching in the wind.
Elodie was practically vibrating with excitement and skipped the last few feet to launch herself into Cal’s arms. He pulled her body against his, kissing her long and deep.
Long enough for Selene and me to exchange an awkward glance.
We both suddenly found the sky fascinating.
Anything to avoid watching Cal suck face with Elodie in broad daylight.
I cleared my throat and Cal put her down.
“Hi,” she said, breathless.
“Good morning,” I greeted Elodie, then shifted to Selene.
“Ma’am,” I drawled with a slow grin, tipping my chin toward her.
“Well, I better get back to it.” I held out my hand for Cal, and he took it.
“Especially now that the bosses are here.” I glanced at Selene and shot her a playful wink.
Her lips parted, maybe in surprise, but her chest and neck flushed the prettiest shade of pink before she dragged her gaze away.
The trio stayed outside the barn, chatting about something as Elodie waved her arms around wildly.
Cal nodded and Selene stood next to her vibrant sister, looking like the pinnacle of patient grace and sophistication.
She was wearing some kind of breezy linen dress that billowed with each small gust of lake wind.
On top was a formfitting tank that hugged her curves in a way that made me want to groan out loud.
I already knew exactly how Selene felt under my hands, and I tamped down that memory, stuffing it into a box and trying to forget about it altogether.
When I caught her eyes slicing in my direction, I grinned.
Her gaze snagged on mine like a hook beneath my skin—sharp, swift, and impossible to ignore. I felt it land, linger, and burn.
Hell if that didn’t make me want to push it just a little bit further.