Chapter 4
She’d blocked him at every turn for two weeks.
Nathan had even tried phoning for a massage appointment, not giving his name, but she’d assured him she didn’t have any openings.
While it might be true her clinic was that popular, he doubted she’d turn away business that bluntly with anyone else. She must have recognized his voice.
But the rain had stopped, and the sun shone on a neighborhood that turned from brown to green practically overnight.
Today a guy named Logan Dermott was coming up to the house to install the garden shed he’d been building in Basil and Alex’s dad’s workshop, a storage unit much needed by the fledgling Bridgeview Backyards.
Nathan had offered to give the guys a hand building raised garden beds over much of the remaining lot.
It wasn’t like he had anything better to do on a Saturday morning.
This would be the day Jasmine would need to decide if she was going to work in the business she’d helped create, or abandon it on account of him. He wouldn’t let her do that, of course. He’d step back if he had to, but not too quickly .
He padded into the suite’s small kitchen and poured himself a coffee, unable to shift his thoughts from Jasmine.
Like Basil, he’d thought his previous relationship with Jasmine wouldn’t be a big deal when he returned.
She’d have moved on, as he had. She’d treat him cordially, even if not throwing herself at him, and they’d get over the minor hiccup and be friends, or at least acquaintances who didn’t snarl at each other.
Nathan had hurt her more deeply than that. He still couldn’t muster regret at the decision to run, but he could have been nicer about it. Could have done more than ghost out of her life with no warning.
Voices and the slamming of truck doors on the street alerted him that the day was about to get underway.
He gulped a mouthful of scalding coffee then jogged back to his bedroom for a pair of faded jeans and a gray T-shirt.
Then he filled his thermal mug and headed up the outside steps to the carport. Breakfast would have to wait.
Jasmine set a box of cinnamon rolls and a carafe of coffee from Bridgeview Bakery and Bistro onto a folding table in Alex’s backyard.
The treat would be gone in five minutes flat, no doubt about it, with her two brothers, her cousin, and Logan gearing up for a day of manual labor.
She glanced toward the carport as footsteps approached.
Oh. And Nathan.
Had she forgotten to tell him rule number one about not wearing gray Henleys?
That should be abbreviated. No wearing gray, period.
Not unless it was the color of baggy sweats instead of a snug T-shirt that stretched across his chest and brought out the stormy gray in his eyes.
How did a guy pushing computer keys get muscles like that, anyway?
Not that she cared.
She’d made a decision. She wasn’t going to let Nathan Hamelin push her out of the business she planned to build with her family. Marketing guys could come and go — any day now — but she’d regret it forever if Peter and Basil ran Bridgeview Backyards without her.
Chin up.
“Hi, Jasmine. You’re here early.” Nathan sounded wary, and with good reason.
“We have a lot to do today, now that the yard is dry enough to work in. Want a cinnamon roll?”
“Uh, sure. Thanks.” He reached into the box with a tanned hand, fingernails neatly trimmed, and removed a roll. California boy.
The other men joined him, jostling around her, inhaling cinnamon rolls and caffeine while Logan briefed them on how the shed would come together.
Why was Nathan standing so close? She didn’t want him there. She might have accepted his apology — sort of — but it was going to take longer to actually forgive him, if ever. She’d thought she was well over him — eight years was a long time — but apparently not. And that was super annoying.
When Basil filched the last cinnamon roll, Jasmine folded the box flat and carried it over to the recycling bins in the carport. Then she tugged on a pair of work gloves and eyed the pile of lumber cut to length for the garden beds.
Alex poked his boot at a board. “Hey, Jas.”
She grinned at him. “Hey, little brother. Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?”
His brown eyes widened in surprise. “Uh, thanks. I think. What did I do to deserve that?”
Jasmine waved a hand around the yard. Logan, Peter, and Basil were already setting the garden shed’s base on the concrete pad they’d poured last week. “I don’t know too many guys your age who’ve bought their own house.”
He shrugged. “It was time to move out of Mom and Dad’s basement.”
“For most of us, the first step is an apartment.”
“And waste all that money? No way. But I wasn’t expecting to find this deal quite so quickly. Dad loaned me ten grand of the down payment.”
“Most likely to be rid of you,” she teased.
He chuckled. “Probably. I’ll get him paid back within the year. And it gets Basil out of their hair, too.”
Basil. He’d dropped out of college and drifted from one job to the next for a few years until landing one with City of Spokane Public Works.
He’d done everything from shoveling sidewalks to fixing manhole covers to watering flower boxes.
No wonder he’d been more than ready to jump on Peter’s idea for a family business.
Alex shook his head and lowered his voice. “Between you and me, Jas, I only hope he doesn’t mess up Bridgeview Backyards.”
She’d never figured out how the second-born of five kids could be so different from the others.
Marco, the eldest, had been married for years to a great gal, and they had three little boys.
He had a degree in geography and worked for Spokane’s planning department.
In fact, it had been Marco who’d gone to bat for Basil working for the city.
Jasmine was sandwiched smack in the middle, with Alex two years younger.
Maybe Basil’s cavalier attitude toward the future had helped spur Alex to studying hard.
He was a junior accountant in a prestigious firm downtown, and was definitely focused on getting ahead, right down to buying a house at the age of twenty-four.
Sure, it wasn’t a mansion, but it was solid.
Their youngest brother, Evan, was in law school.
He’d be in their parents’ basement for a while yet.
So, yeah, she was proud of Alex. How could she not be, for helping Basil with one more chance to redeem himself? “He’ll be fine. He just needed something to focus on. I think he’s ready to do that.”
“Sure hope so.” Alex glanced at her. “So you know, Basil talked to me about the budget for hiring a marketer. He didn’t tell me whom he had in mind. I would’ve made sure you were consulted in advance.”
“I know.” Jasmine sighed. “Basil thinks it’s a big joke. I just don’t get him sometimes.”
“Yeah. Are you okay with it being Hamelin? Maybe he’s grown up a bit over the years.”
“It’s too late for my opinion to have any weight, but maybe it’s best this way. I didn’t realize how much bitterness I was still holding until I saw him again. Now I can move on.”
Oh, didn’t that sound great? So mature. So unlike the battle going on inside her, which was more related to the way her brothers had wrestled as kids, knocking over lamps and destroying furniture.
She shrugged. “Sounds like he’s run some innovative campaigns in L.A., so I guess we’ll see what his ideas are for Bridgeview Backyards. It will probably be a short-term contract, anyway.” She was counting on it.
“You two going to jaw all day?” yelled Peter. “Build a garden bed while you talk!”
Alex chuckled. “On the other hand, I think we’re all in good hands with Peter at the helm.”
Something else Jasmine was counting on.
Nathan grabbed a two-by-twelve and carried it over to where Jasmine had just pegged the corner of the second garden bed. What Logan and Peter were doing with the shed was beyond his experience level. “Where do you want this?” Maybe he could build on that almost-truce first thing this morning.
She spared him a glance. “Along this side.”
“I’ve got the drill to attach the boards.” She wouldn’t fight him for an eighteen-volt cordless, would she? The thing was heavy.
“Good. Basil cut everything to length in Dad’s shop, so it’s just a matter of assembly.” She arranged a shorter two-by-twelve at right angles to the one he’d brought.
Nathan took the hint and drove four stainless steel screws into the corner. They moved to the other end, and he screwed the next section to it. A few minutes later, they shoved the rectangular box into place and started the next one.
“How’d you guys come up with the idea to raise vegetables for sale, anyway?” Least he could do was be sociable. A truce was one thing, but friends would be better.
“It seemed a natural step. My nonna raised her kids on garden-fresh vegetables and fruit she’d canned. My parents and most of my aunts and uncles raised us the same.”
“And now it’s the in thing to do again. ”
“Seems to be.” She didn’t look at him, but at least she was talking.
“You used to like picking berries and scouting for mushrooms.”
Jasmine’s face pinched.
Drat. Why had he forgotten all the kissing they’d done out by the berry bushes? But they’d managed to bring back full buckets anyway. Jasmine had always been dedicated to whatever task she was doing.
“Still do. Hiking in the wild country makes me feel closer to God.” She shoved the squared ends of two boards together. “And gets me away from people.”
Nathan took the hint and zinged in another screw. “People aren’t so bad.”
“I beg to differ. People let me down all the time. So far, God hasn’t.”
He was definitely one of those who’d let her down.
But, seriously, they’d been kids. They’d have been divorced by now.
See? He’d spared her that painful end. Everyone in his family who’d ever been married had at least one divorce to show for it.
Pops led the way with three. That was all Nathan knew, so how could he do differently?
Jasmine’s family? Not so much. They were stuck together with superglue. Maybe Marietta put the fear of her disapproval in them all. Or maybe it was their faith that did it.
“About God,” he said at last.
She shot him a glance, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”
“I’ve made some stupid mistakes, but He’s given me a fresh start. That’s partly why I’m back in Spokane.”
“That’s great. Really. But don’t think you can come back into my life and pick up where we left off, because that’s not happening. ”
A bark of laughter erupted before he could choke it back. “Are you kidding? That wasn’t in my mind at all.”
Jasmine straightened, and her hands went to her hips. “Then why have you been following me around like a lost puppy?” Her narrowed eyes pierced his.
He hadn’t been that bad, had he? “Because you’re mad at me, and I can’t stand it.” He’d always sought approval. Rarely gotten it until he landed in marketing and swung some terrific proposals to his boss, making for some ecstatic clients, but it had never stopped him from striving for it.
“So it’s all about you? I should have figured.”
Nathan eyed her. “Sounds bad, I guess. But doesn’t the Bible say we’re supposed to forgive each other in love?” He held up both hands. “And it’s not talking about romantic love there, from what I can figure out. Just Christian love.”
“I accepted your apology two weeks ago.”
“But you haven’t forgiven me.”
Her shoulders flinched as her mouth drew into a tight line. “Look, it’s not like I can flip a switch, okay? I never expected you to barge into Bridgeview, move in with my brothers, and expect to be part of my life. It’s been a bit much to take in.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Just stop already. I’ll get over it. Let me do it in my own way, at my own speed.”
Both his hands were still in the air. He lowered them slowly. “Fine.”
“Peter convinced me that you have what it takes to help us launch Bridgeview Backyards. So how about we pretend the past never happened and carry on from there? I’m a business partner. Your client. That’s it.”
Nathan shrugged. “Sure. That’s what I’ve been trying to do all along.
Leave the past where it belongs.” He had a whole lot of regrets parked there, more than he’d ever want to dump on someone like Jasmine.
He didn’t need to hear her scathing disapproval to know he’d blown it a thousand times over.
Now, it was between him and God. Hope You’re listening, Big Guy.
“Good. Now pass me that drill. This screw is sticking out a little.”