Chapter 3
Nora
I’d searched the internet for someone, anyone, other than Cole Sullivan. Every search circled right back to him. No one nearby had his work ethic or the same wall of impressive reviews, and the closest alternative was miles away and fully booked. It was getting old.
I’d spent the entire night thinking it over.
The inn needed work, and I didn’t want my father’s enemy doing it.
For all I knew, the flawed methods Cole had used in the city would come back to bite me in the ass.
I didn’t want him cutting corners, and I definitely didn’t want anyone getting hurt.
The reviews were the problem. Sullivan Construction had too many recent customers praising him for me to brush them all off.
Either way, I felt cornered. Waiting weeks for someone else wasn’t an option, not with a hole in the inn’s roof. Hiring Cole wasn’t exactly comforting either. I’d spent years hearing his name attached to one version of him, and now everything I found about him said something different.
It wasn’t like the guy was about to build a high-rise for me. Still, “probably better now” wasn’t much of a safety plan.
I made myself some coffee and decided that maybe if I asked around, I’d get some better answers. Maybe there was some small-time contractor who didn’t have much of an online presence but was good at his job. I was counting on something like that to happen.
So I got in my car and headed out, desperate for some good news.
On my way there, my phone rang. With a quick glance, I looked over at my phone sitting in the passenger seat and realized it was my dad.
I was pretty certain Mom had gone to him to complain about me not answering her calls, and since he was the big bad wolf, he’d taken it upon himself to deal with it.
I rolled my eyes as I took it from the seat.
“Dad,” I answered.
“What the hell is going on with you?”
I swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean,” I said calmly.
“I thought I told you not to go to that godforsaken place. What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m sorry, Dad, but I tried to tell you guys how I felt, and you didn’t care to listen.”
There was a short pause. “Come home. We’ll talk about this when you get here.”
“You can’t just order me home.”
“I’m your father.”
“And I’m not ten.”
I huffed, annoyed. “I’m not coming back—not anytime soon, anyway. I told you, this is where I want to be.”
“For Christ’s sake, Nora. Don’t you think you’re too old for the rebellious stage?” Mom cut in.
I scoffed. “This isn’t me being rebellious. This is me finally being the adult I want to be!”
Mom gave a short laugh. “Adults don’t quit careers because they’re having a bad month.”
“This wasn’t one bad month.”
“You have two weeks to get back here. Don’t be stupid.” Dad was on the line again, and just as Mom was about to say her piece, he hung up.
I muttered a curse and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. The urge to turn around came fast anyway, which annoyed me almost as much as the call. A few months ago, I probably would’ve booked the earliest flight back before Dad even had to ask twice.
Not this time. I was tired of being unhappy, and I wanted to make one decision without being ordered to undo it.
Just then, I slowed the car when I spotted a hardware store. I supposed the best people to ask about a contractor were people who dealt with them regularly.
I got out and walked into Holt’s. A few people browsed the aisles, and the clerk behind the counter seemed to notice everyone who came in. Maybe she’d know who actually did good work around here.
I took a breath as I walked toward her, smiling once I was standing in front of her.
“Hi.”
“Hi, welcome to Holt’s Hardware. How can I help you?”
“Er, I was actually hoping you could recommend a good contractor.”
Her brows rose. “Yeah, sure. Um… there’s Langley and Son…” She trailed off and leaned in. “But if I’m being honest, the talent died generations ago. I think they’re just carrying on the business for the sake of tradition,” she whispered, raising a brow.
Caught off guard, I froze. “Oh.”
She cleared her throat, her cheeks reddening. “Everyone’s talking about Cole Sullivan nowadays. He’s good at his job and easy on the eyes too.” She winked.
“I’m more interested in whether his roofs stay up.”
“They do. The face is a bonus.”
I managed a smile, indulging her. “Sounds like he’s my best bet.”
“If you want the job done right, he certainly is.”
Of course.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome.”
I still didn’t want Cole Sullivan working for me. The problem was that everyone in Misty Pines kept recommending him. I asked three more people. Sullivan. Sullivan. Sullivan. Every answer described someone competent, not the man I’d spent years assuming he was.
I left the hardware store frustrated and more confused than when I’d walked in.
Could I really have this man renovate the inn?
* * *
By midday, I knew I had no real choice but to ask him. Maybe he’d changed. Maybe he’d improved. Maybe seven years was enough time for a contractor to become the man everyone in Misty Pines already seemed convinced he was.
It was a lot of maybes. Unfortunately, my roof had an actual hole in it.
There was only one way to find out.
I parked my car outside the house I remembered had belonged to a married couple some years ago.
According to the address I was given, this was now Cole Sullivan’s place.
And to my dismay, it was much closer to Grandma Ellen’s house than I’d expected.
Walking distance. Same street. I was going to have to get used to Cole Sullivan being nearby whether I hired him or not.
His pickup was parked in the driveway, and the garage door was open. I knew he was there, and suddenly I was nervous. I still didn’t know if I was making the right choice. For all I knew, the same thing that happened to my dad could happen to me.
“Just get this over with, Nora,” I muttered to myself, pushing the car door open and straightening my T-shirt once I stepped outside. I sighed, tucked my hair behind my ear, and walked toward his house.
I stepped onto his porch and noticed the floorboards before I could stop myself. Smooth finish, clean edges, no lazy patchwork in sight. Annoying. Even his porch looked like another point in his favor.
I knocked. My heart pounded while I waited, and the longer he took, the more attractive my car became.
I was about to knock again when the door creaked open and Cole Sullivan stood before me.
I stiffened. He was a lot bigger in person. Cole was tall, broad through the shoulders, with toned arms and thick black hair threaded with silver. Short stubble made the gray look unfairly good on him, and his deep-set eyes came with lashes I would’ve paid money for.
Great. The contractor I didn’t trust was even more attractive in person.
I stared long enough to briefly forget why his name had bothered me in the first place.
I snapped myself back to reality when he frowned.
“May I help you?”
I cleared my throat as my thoughts reeled.
“I need a contractor. Everyone I asked said you’re the best.”
His eyes narrowed. “You sound disappointed.”
“I was hoping they were wrong.”
He raised a single, thick brow. “Who’s asking?”
I hesitated, pulling my gaze from him for a second before making eye contact. “Nora Adams.”
He scoffed. “Adams.”
I frowned. “You say that like it’s an insult.”
“I know who you are,” he pointed out, his voice low and smooth.
I straightened. “I know who you are.”
“Good. Then we can skip the polite part.”
“Were we doing that?”
He snorted. “Then why are you on my porch?”
“I want you,” I said without even thinking about it. I stiffened as soon as the words left my lips. Sullivan paused too, and suddenly I heard how that sounded.
I cleared my throat. “I mean, for the inn. People say you’re the best. They can’t all be lying.”
“You’d know a thing or two about liars.”
I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
He stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind him. “Listen, there’s plenty of other contractors around. Find somebody else.”
He brushed past me and headed for the garage. I followed, heat climbing my neck. I needed the contractor, yes, but being dismissed like the conversation was already over annoyed me almost as much as needing him.
“Don’t you think I’ve tried? God knows you’re the last person I wanted to consider!” I snapped.
His mouth twisted. “Last person?”
“Try not to look so pleased. I ran out of options.”
He scoffed. “Then do both of us a favor and leave.”
I planted my feet. “So this is about my last name.”
His jaw tightened. “This is about you not hearing no.”
I sighed heavily, stopping when he entered the garage. “Fine. Whatever happened between you and my father, leave me out of it. I need the inn fixed. That’s all.”
“You being here doesn’t change who your father is.”
“Then stop treating me like him.”
He stared at me, his gaze softening a bit. For a moment, I thought I was getting somewhere.
“Sorry, can’t help you.”
My heart sank, which only made me more annoyed. I’d spent half the day proving to myself he was apparently the best contractor in town, only for him to decide my last name was enough reason not to work for me.
I headed back to my car.
What a freaking waste!