Chapter 3
A week isn’t a long time, but it feels like I’ve been waiting an eternity to come to Colorado. After spending years in Paris, I’ve had to disassemble it within days. I’m not sure yet if I’ll return for that apprenticeship position after I spend time in Colorado. There is no way in hell I’ll want to stay there, of all places. I’m not an average, outdoor-loving kind of girl. Considering a future way out there in the middle of the mountains is crazy talk, but I’m game to try it for a while.
I’m not certain what my state of mind will be with this change of scenery. I’m hoping I can relax without the pressure to date or even meet any men. I’m really counting on the crappy reception Dalton complains about. The inability to be reached sounds like a blessing, so I’m looking forward to zero calls or emails from my mother. But most of all, the allure of designing Lauren’s gown consumes me. I’m excited. I’m focused. Even on the flight to Denver, I’m imagining ideas and shifting through options of what I could present to her. That’s why I’m losing interest in that job offer. I don’t have to make a decision on it yet, but I realized Lauren would kind of be a job. She won’t be a client, not at all. I won’t accept a single cent from her because she’s Caleb’s fiancée. He’s like family, so she will be, too.
Besides,I muse as the flight attendant checks up and down the aisle that everyone is prepared for landing, I can’t actually make her a dress. I’m assuming that Dalton will tell her I can design something for her, and I can—on paper. But I have nothing to make a gown for her. I’m coming to stay with them temporarily, and all I’m bringing are suitcases of my clothes and shoes. I have no sewing machine, no bolts of fabric, or dress forms to create any garment. Still, just talking about her dress and helping her find something is the next best thing.
We touch down in Denver, and I quickly secure my bags off the luggage carousel. Dalton texted me earlier to explain that he wouldn’t be free to pick me up, but Aubrey is available. So is Lauren, I realize when I see not one but two excited ladies waving at me.
The shorter woman with black waves is definitely Aubrey. Dalton sent me a picture of them last year when she agreed to move in with him. She’s even easier to identify because she’s holding up a sign written in black marker that says Welcome Claire Bear, Dalton’s teasing pet name for me because I was obsessed with my Care Bear stuffed animals when I was younger.
Taller and blonde, Lauren holds up a twin sign. She lowers it when I wave at them, and I wonder how they spotted me.
“Well, that was easy!” Lauren giggles as I approach. “You do look like a model.”
Aubrey rolls her eyes. “What? You were planning on guessing every model-like woman was her?” She smiles at me. “Welcome, Claire.” She furrows her brow. “You are, Claire, right? Not some soon-to-be traumatized stranger who’s going to call airport security on us for hitting on you?”
I stifle a laugh. They’re amusing already. “I’m Claire.” I hold my hand out for a shake. “Nice to meet you, Aubrey.”
She wrinkles her nose at my hand and instead lunges in for a side hug. Maybe she wanted a full hug, but my carry-on remains between us.
“I’m so excited you’re here!” Aubrey exclaims. “Dalton has told me so much about you, but that’s not the same as actually getting a chance to hang out with you.”
Lauren doesn’t wait for her turn. She flanks me on the other side, tugging me her way for a hug as well. “Caleb, too. He’s mentioned you so often I feel like you should’ve been here with us all this time.”
Wow. I hadn’t been sure what kind of welcome I’d receive. Because both women are with the two men I consider my brothers, I knew they would be welcoming to some extent. This gushing, super-easy acceptance is hard for me to get used to, though. They might have heard of me, but I’m still a stranger.
Smushed between them and still holding my bag, I’m at a loss for how to react or reply. I can’t hug them back. My arms are trapped at my sides, but even if they weren’t, I wasn’t prepared for this. Most of the women I know are mere acquaintances. Classmates at the university came and went, and I kept them at a distance so I could dive into my studies and avoid college drama. Colleagues and instructors were more like necessary stepping stones for me to file away for future reference. And further back, I lacked friends as a child, too. The one time I attempted to befriend someone purely for the sake of a friendship, not a transaction of popularity or anything else of a gain, my mother sent her away, deeming her too inferior for someone of my financial status.
I like to think I’m simply career-driven and focused on my goals, but facing these too-bubbly women emphasizes the fact that I really don’t have any true girlfriends in my life. I bet if I did, I would know what to do and say as they release me and step back.
A slapped-on smile has to be a start, I suppose, because they grin right back at me.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Aubrey tells Lauren and nudges her with her hip. “Grab a bag, and let’s go before the truck is towed.”
Lauren giggles as she reaches for a suitcase handle. “Marian would never forgive us if we lost her new truck.”
I blink, stumped at so many things. Aubrey can just tell her what to do, as though Lauren is her hired help? And Lauren isn’t offended? More than that, the women sincerely intend to help me with my luggage instead of asking for someone to do it for us. Dalton told me that the women were best friends, but their easy camaraderie is so foreign that I can’t follow. It can’t be a French versus American difference, but something else.
Am I really stuck up like Owen thinks?
“Ready?” Aubrey asks, tilting her head to the side.
I nod, banishing my thoughts as I follow the women. “I really appreciate you coming to pick me up.”
“Ah, no problem,” Lauren says.
“Sorry if we embarrassed you with the sign.” Aubrey sighs. “It was Dalton’s idea.”
“Caleb thought it would be funny,” Lauren adds.
The sign was fine. It’s my struggle to know how to act around them that’s tripping me up. “That sounds like them,” I say instead.
“Maybe it would have been better if Dalton and Caleb were here to pick you up,” Lauren said, “but we were just so excited to have another woman around that we couldn’t wait!”
I don’t know how to reply to that, so I stick with what I’m familiar with. Business, or more to the point, dresses. “And I’m excited to help you, too,” I tell them, eyeing Lauren. “I can’t wait to get right to work discussing your gown.”
“My gown?” She furrows her brow. “Oh! My wedding dress.”
“We’ll have lots of time for that,” Aubrey says. “We’ll let you settled in first.”
I don’t know how.
“Yeah, we want to get to know all about the exciting cousin from Paris!” Lauren gushes.
Me? Exciting? Yeah, right. But they try to unearth me as a figure of grand interest. On the drive to Dalton’s property, the women pepper me with questions almost to the point it feels like an interrogation. They keep it fun and silly, though, lighthearted enough that I don’t think about Owen, my dreams, or even Paris once.
By the time they reach the cabin and drop me off, I’m halfway warmed up to them, wishing I wasn’t so tired and jetlagged that we could spend a little more time together. It’s morning, though, and I’ve been on a plane all night. Jetlag catches up to me, and I find myself yawning nonstop as I wave at the girls as they head back to the truck they borrowed from Marian.
“Remember, Dalton’s made plans for us to meet up later in the evening. You’ll get your first chance to eat one of Marian’s famous dinners!” Aubrey calls back to me at the door.
Dinner sounds so far away, but I know it’ll be here before I know it. A nap is critical. I never believed in staying up to adjust to time differences. I love my sleep. I need my beauty and brain sleep, so I go to the largest bedroom and crash.
Or I try to. Sleep simply doesn’t come, and when construction noises start up outside, it’s impossible to relax at all.
“I know you’ve got your business ventures,” I grouse as I stare at the ceiling, “but I didn’t realize you meant they were happening on your land!”
My headphones don’t block the sounds. Slipping in my earbuds doesn’t cut it, either.
I try to find a Zen place and ignore the distant distraction, but it just does not work.
Fed up, cranky, and about to snap, I growl as I get to my feet. I go to the sliding glass doors and wrench them open. They’re stiff to move, but with some elbow grease, I manage a wide enough gap to step through. Mindful of the wet wood, I walk across the deck and wave both arms to capture the attention of the construction crew at a cabin adjacent to mine.
No one notices. Not a single damn man can see me jumping, waving my arms, and shouting. My throat is raw from shouting. Clearly, their ear protection is foolproof. Their noisy tools don’t help me either.
There’s nothing left for me to do but stomp over there and beg them to have some consideration.
“Hey!’ I shout grumpily at the first burly man I come across. He doesn’t turn off the drill, just peers up at me with raised brows.
“I’m talking to you!”
“What?” He scrunches his face, showing his struggle to hear me without considering shutting off his tool.
“For the love of…” I turn to see another man approaching. “Hey!”
He’s younger, and with every step that brings him closer, I see more of his handsome features. Tall, muscled, tanned, and with a sexy, smug smile.
He faces me, towering over me, and slips his sunglasses up to reveal striking green eyes that suggest he’s highly amused.
Still, I can’t help but lose my train of thought. I came over here to say something, but locking my eyes on this hunk, I clap my mouth shut and frown.
He runs his hand through his thick brown hair, and as he smiles deeper, showing me a dimple, he rakes his gaze up and down me, from my heels to my bed hair.
That does it. I will not let this construction idiot ogle me like that, like I’m some freak show interrupting his day. I don’t care how hot he is. I refuse to acknowledge how…aware of him that I am at first glance. And I don’t want to remember that these guys must be here doing their job for my cousin.
“How can I help you?”
Dammit, even his voice is sexy. Deep and husky.
I set my hands on my hips and breathe in deeply, gearing up to light into him. “I just got off a plane from Paris, and I can’t sleep with you all carrying on like this!”
He smirks, pissing me off even more, so I point at his face, making sure he hears me and knows I’m not anything to ignore.
“I’ve had a couple of really shitty, hellish weeks, so if you could keep it down out here, that would be great.”
Because I’m about to reach my breaking point, and I’m tired of staying strong to keep it together.
He extends his hand to me. “How about we start over with some manners this time?”
I look down at his calloused, dirt-covered hand and feel my lip curl in a scowl.
“I’m Sawyer Cameron. How can I help you?”