Chapter 13
13
C apri woke to the sound of a car engine outside. She threw back the covers and jumped from her bed, completely dressed…and a little confused as to why. The nearly empty tequila bottle on the bedside table might be her first clue.
Alarmed, she glanced back at the bed. Thankfully, the spot beside where she’d slept was empty and from the looks of the bedcovers, had been that way all night. She rubbed her temples as the pain in her head pounded, promising to lay off the sauce.
The engine rumbled to a stop. Curiosity got the better of her, and she risked a glance out the window, only to let out a groan.
With a determined sigh, she raced for the bathroom, splashed some water on her face, and rinsed out her mouth, cupping the water in her hands for lack of a proper glass. She straightened her hair with her fingers and pulled it back into a ponytail, then fastened the strands with a rubber band as she raced for the front door.
As soon as she pulled it open and stepped onto the porch, Capri’s eyes landed on a guy climbing out of a pickup truck. Despite her throbbing head, her heart did a double take.
The guy was ruggedly handsome, with a strong build that spoke of hard work, his tanned skin a testament to hours spent under the sun. As he walked around and opened the back passenger door on his truck, reaching for a leatherbound notebook, he did so with subdued focus. His tousled brown hair and the hint of stubble on his jawline added to his laid-back demeanor.
“Hey, you’re early,” she called out, not bothering with a more inviting greeting.
He glanced at his watch and shook his head. “Nope. Right on time.”
She decided to give him that one, knowing that was entirely possible given her late start. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come in and take a look around.”
She waited for him to climb the steps to the porch before she granted him the slightest of smiles.
His eyes caught her off guard—blue, sharp, and filled with a quiet determination. There was a stubbornness in his gaze, a pride that seemed to come from knowing exactly who he was and where he came from.
She was a good judge of character, and this one exuded an air of independence, a man who was unapologetically himself, with a quiet confidence that seemed to say he wasn’t easily rattled. There was no pretense, just a calm assurance that dared her to match his unflinching steadiness with her own.
Despite her wrinkled blouse and no make-up, she was up for the challenge.
“You got a name?” she demanded.
He let a slow smile tug at the corner of his mouth as if amused by her directness. “Same as when we talked on the phone. Jake Carrington,” he said, tipping his baseball cap slightly in a casual gesture of respect. “I’m the contractor you called about the renovation work.” His voice was smooth, with a hint of an unmistakable Southern drawl. He extended a hand toward her, calloused but steady, waiting for her to make the next move. “I’m guessing you’re Capri Jacobs.”
Capri hesitated for just a beat, her gaze flicking from his hand to his eyes, searching for any hint of condescension. Finding none, she accepted the handshake, his grip firm but not overbearing. “That’s right,” she confirmed, pulling her hand back a little too quickly. She crossed her arms over her chest, a habit she’d picked up whenever she felt the need to shield herself.
“So, you think you’re up for this?” she asked, tilting her chin up slightly, challenging him again. It wasn’t just the rebuild she was asking about—it was perhaps a little more, though she wasn’t sure she’d admit that, even to herself.
Jake’s smile didn’t waver. If anything, it deepened as if he could read the unspoken layers of her question. “I’ve handled worse,” he said with an easy shrug. “But why don’t you show me around, and I’ll let you know for sure.” His tone was professional, yet there was an underlying attitude that suggested he wasn’t just here for a paycheck—he genuinely cared about doing the job right.
Capri nodded, her defenses going up. There was something disarming about Jake. It wasn’t just his words, but the way he carried himself—calm, unhurried as if he had all the time in the world to listen to her concerns. She wasn’t used to that.
People usually came into her life with expectations, demands, or with their own agenda. But Jake seemed different, and that unsettled her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. “Alright then, follow me,” she said, turning on her heel and leading him back out into the yard where they could get a good view of the exterior.
Jake fell into step beside her without a word.
She gestured at the house with a sweeping motion, her tone matter-of-fact. “I’m thinking we tear it down and start fresh. The place is old, and honestly, it’d be easier to just rebuild.” Then, to emphasize her point, “Money is no object.” She walked to the side of the house so he could get a full view of what they were dealing with.
Jake stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing as he took in the structure. He didn’t follow her immediately. Instead, he stepped back to get a better look at the house. His gaze roamed over the weathered wood, the sagging porch, and the chipped paint, but there was no disdain in his expression. Instead, there was a kind of reverence, like he was seeing something she wasn’t.
“Hold on a minute,” Jake finally said, his voice steady but firm. “Tear it down? That’s a bold move, but I’m not sure it’s the right one.” He walked up to the porch, running a hand along one of the support beams. “This place has good bones, ma’am. Sure, it’s seen better days, but there’s a lot worth saving here.”
Capri crossed her arms again, her skepticism clear. “First of all, drop the ma’am. It’s Capri.” She followed his gaze. “You see something I don’t?” she challenged, tilting her head slightly.
Jake turned to face her, nodding. “Yeah, I do. Look at these joists—they’re solid. They don’t make them like this anymore. And the foundation, from what I can tell, is still strong. This house has character, history. You tear it down, and you lose all that. It’s not just about convenience; it’s about preserving what’s here, what’s real.”
He took a step closer to her, his voice softening. “I get it. You want something new and shiny. But sometimes the best way to move forward is to work with what you’ve got. Fix what’s broken, restore what’s worn, and keep the soul of the place intact.”
Capri felt a flicker of something—was it doubt? Or was it the beginning of conviction? She glanced back at the house, trying to see it through his eyes. The peeling paint and creaking boards no longer seemed like obstacles but challenges; ones that could be met with the right kind of care. She turned back to Jake, her defenses lowering just a fraction.
“You really think it’s worth it?” she asked, her voice quieter now, less certain.
Jake met her gaze, his expression earnest. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. This house has a story, and I think it’s one worth continuing.”
She felt a subtle warmth rise in her chest, one she quickly tried to push aside, telling herself it was just the summer heat.
“Fine,” she said, her voice carrying the same firmness she always used to mask uncertainty. “We’ll do this your way.” The words tasted foreign on her tongue—she wasn’t used to conceding, especially not to someone she barely knew. But there was something about Jake Carrington that made her feel like maybe, just this once, letting someone else take the lead might not be the worst idea.
A small smile tugged at the corner of Jake’s mouth, but he didn’t gloat. Instead, he gave a single nod as if acknowledging the weight of her decision. “You won’t regret it,” he said simply.
Capri nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure she believed him. “Let’s hope not,” she replied, trying to regain some of her usual edge. She turned toward the house again, taking in its weathered facade with a fresh perspective. “So, what’s the next step?”
Jake stepped onto the porch beside her, the boards creaking under his weight. “I’ll put together a detailed plan. We’ll need to assess the full structure, get a list of what needs replacing and what can be restored. It’s going to take time and patience, but if we do it right, this place will be something special.”
She listened, catching the undercurrent of passion in his voice. He wasn’t just talking about a construction project that would make him money; this was about creating something meaningful. The subtle attraction she felt earlier simmered quietly in the background, but she shoved it aside, focusing on the task ahead.
“Alright,” she said, more to herself than to him. “Let’s get started.”
They spent the next hour walking through the house, Jake pointing out details she had overlooked—exposed brick behind the drywall, original wood floors beneath the carpet. He spoke with a reverence for the craftsmanship that had gone into building the home, and Capri found herself drawn to his knowledge, his respect for the past.
They walked through every room, discussing possibilities, and mapping out a vision for the house’s future. By the time they wrapped up, Capri found herself unexpectedly absorbed in the project, his passion for the work subtly infectious.
As they finished, Capri stood in the doorway, watching as Jake packed up his pen and notebook, his movements efficient and sure. She realized she was watching him a little too closely and quickly looked away, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and unease settle in her chest.
“We’ll meet again next week,” Jake said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll have the plan ready by then.”
“Next week,” Capri repeated, more to ground herself than anything else. She needed time to process, to figure out why she was so unsettled by this man.
Jake gave her one last nod before heading to his truck. As he drove away, the rumble of the engine fading into the distance, Capri stood on the porch. The house loomed behind her, a silent witness to the change she’d just set in motion. She wasn’t sure where this project would take her, but for the first time in a long while, she felt something other than the weight of loss.
Capri turned back toward the house, her mind swirling with thoughts she wasn’t ready to unpack. Not yet. But as she walked inside, closing the door behind her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, she was on the brink of something new.