Heron's Landing

“As it turns out, I’m going to be doing it here.” Brianna blew out a breath. This was the first time she’d said it out loud. And it sounded good. Good, but a little scary.

“Really? Wow!” Kylee’s face lit up like a sudden sunbreak during a long winter of gray days. “And your timing’s perfect because Herons Landing is for sale.”

“I saw it on the website the other night. Other than paint colors on the exterior, it looks in pretty good shape compared to the last time I was in town.”

“That paint was the previous owner’s idea. While those painted ladies may fit into San Francisco’s street scene, the pink and purple look ridiculous with the wooded backdrop. And photographs can be deceiving,” Kylee said. “Especially in these days when everyone knows how to Photoshop. The sales photo exterior shots only look good because Seth spent the entire last year fixing up the outside. Then the couple who’d hired him broke up and the place went into foreclosure.”

Which explained why the price had seemed lower than Brianna would’ve expected. The real estate ad hadn’t mentioned that little detail.

“The inside is definitely a work in progress,” Kylee said.

“Which is a polite way of saying wreck,” Mai murmured.

“True. But so was our new place not that long ago,” Kylee reminded her. “Seth is a miracle worker. Even though his father is a bit of a challenge.”

“He likes you,” Mai said.

“That’s because the caterers always let me keep the leftover wedding desserts. Which I take right over to the job. The man’s got a serious sweet tooth,” she confided to Brianna. “In his case, my mom was right on the money about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach. You can never go wrong with cookies. Or doughnuts. I’m not sure I could have convinced him to put coffering on the ceiling were it not for the fritters from Cops and Coffee.”

Knowing how Ben Harper felt about her family, Brianna felt that even the entire contents of that towering glass case next to Cops and Coffee’s take-out counter wouldn’t be enough to win Seth’s father over. Not that she was going to allow any negative behavior to dissuade her from hiring Harper Construction to create her dream.

“Anyway, Mai and I looked at Herons Landing while we were house hunting, but decided it was a lot more of a project than we wanted to deal with. And more rooms than we’d ever need. Even now that we’re planning a family.”

“You are? That’s wonderful.” Brianna shot a hard look at her only remaining friend. “Yet you accused me of holding back news? After, as you pointed out, we only talked last week.” A conversation that had mostly been about the unexpected and ongoing trials with the Folk Victorian that Harper Construction was remodeling for them.

“I didn’t want to risk jinxing things.” Kylee ran a hand through her curls. “A few months ago I photographed the wedding of a woman who works with state and private organizations matching potential parents with children who need families. Which was when we decided to adopt.

“Meanwhile, our baby’s birth mother isn’t due for another month and we’re hoping to move into the house beforehand so we don’t have to bring her home to the apartment, then move again. It’s not easy, but we’re trying to stay patient.”

“Which is proving a bit easier for me than her,” Mai said with a laugh.

“What can I say?” Kylee shrugged. “We Scots have never been ones for red tape.”

“I’d imagine there’s quite a bit when it comes to adoption.”

“Miles and miles of the damn stuff,” Kylee agreed. “And it’s a risk because the birth mother can always change her mind. However, despite some construction setbacks, like having to redo all the wiring in the place and getting rid of some asbestos, we’re up for the challenge. The house is going to be perfect when Seth finishes.

“Speak of that handsome devil,” she said as she saw a truck approaching. “There he is now.” She stepped out into the street to wave him down.

Fortunately, the pickup had good brakes. He stopped on a dime, then pulled over next to the sidewalk. Brianna watched as the two exchanged a few words through the open driver’s window. Then the door opened and the man she’d spent her entire adolescence fantasizing about climbed out looking like a cover model for Hot Construction Guy Monthly.

Over the years, partly in loyalty to her best friend and partly to keep her own hormones in check, she’d tried to convince herself that Seth Harper was just another guy. Okay, better-looking than most, but still, it wasn’t as if he were movie-star handsome like Chris Evans. Or any of the other hot Chrises: Hemsworth, Pine or Pratt.

But she’d been wrong. As he strolled toward her across the street, she decided that just maybe he topped them all. He was tall, lean and lanky, which only emphasized the intriguing ridges visible beneath the black T-shirt he was wearing under a flannel shirt. Brianna didn’t think it was possible to have a zero body fat ratio, but if it was, he was definitely pulling it off.

A black ball cap worn backward covered his hair, but his eyes were that same melted-chocolate brown she remembered, and above the hollows in his cheeks, his jaw bore a sexy scruff. Though, as he neared, she could detect lines fanning out from his eyes that hadn’t been there two years ago.

“Hey, you.” She hugged him, just as she had Kylee. But this hug was different. Even as Brianna reminded herself that he was her best friend’s widower, despite all those years of telling herself that the man was off-limits, and not to even be fantasized about in her most secret moments, her breath caught in a way that could not be good.

“Hey, you.” Was his voice deeper? Rougher? She wasn’t sure, but it had definitely caused something inside her to jitter. He broke the brief hug off. “It’s been a while.”

“It has.” They’d been standing side by side at the love of his life’s funeral. She’d had no jittering that day. No unsteady breath. Just a deep, aching pain that went all the way to the bone.

“I’ve been meaning to get back for ages, but somehow days flew by, then weeks, then months, then a year had passed, then two, and...”

She slammed her mouth shut. Of course he, of all people, would know how many days, weeks, months and years had passed. That wretched day had to have been etched forever in his mind. And in no way that had anything to do with her.

“Anyway, I’ve quit my job and come home for a lifestyle change.”

“That’s a surprise.” His cocked brow echoed Mai’s. “Zoe always talked about how much you loved your work in the fast lane.”

“Well, you know how it is.” Determined to appear casual, even as those butterflies in her stomach had turned into giant condors, she waved an airy hand. “Or possibly you don’t, not because Honeymoon Harbor isn’t exactly in the fast lane...”

Terrific. Now she was implying Seth Harper was some small-town rube. Could Mount Baker please just erupt and cover her in ash and lava now before she made things worse? “But you always knew exactly what you wanted to do.”

Hadn’t he built the tree house he and Zoe would hide out in with his own two hands from wood reclaimed from Harper Construction dumpsters? No. She was not going to think about what the two of them might have been doing in that house that Zoe had hung curtains in, because any thoughts of sex concerning this man were off-limits.

“I mean, you were the only person I’ve ever met who probably knew the difference between Italianate, Gothic Revival and Queen Anne styles of Victorians before the rest of us mastered long division.”

She remembered, while they’d been running wild in Herons Landing, he’d stop and point out architectural details one of his ancestors had originally installed. Her brothers, intent on adventure, had never paused to listen. But she had. Though, to be honest, back then she would’ve been more than happy to listen to him recite the tide tables.

Her thoughts were spinning even faster than she was talking. Even Kylee was looking at her strangely. She was saved from making a total fool of herself when a huge brown-and-black dog leaped out of the truck’s window and came bounding toward them.

“Bandit!” Seth shouted. The dog’s only response was to run faster, its tail wagging like a metronome. “Stay!”

Whether it was intending to obey, or it had finally reached its target, the dog came skidding to a halt in front of Brianna and, in way of greeting, thrust his huge nose into the crotch of her jeans.

“Hell.” Seth grabbed its collar, and tugged. “I’m sorry. We’re still working on manners.”

“That’s okay.” She reached down and rubbed his broad head, scratching behind its ear. Her family had always had dogs, which, needless to say, hadn’t been possible for her once she’d left home. Even if she had found a small couch potato breed, her long working hours wouldn’t have been fair to any animal. “Aren’t you a handsome boy?”

Moaning with canine ecstasy, he collapsed on the ground and rolled over for a tummy rub, exposing his male parts in all their proud glory.

“Don’t get him started,” Seth warned. He yanked off his cap and stuck it in his back pocket, revealing shaggy hair, streaked with the rich, golden brown of big-leaf maple leaves in fall. “Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile.”

“And probably deserves it.” Crouching down, she obliged as eighty-plus pounds of dog wiggled on its back, huge paws waving in the air, a picture of pure canine bliss. “His name is Bandit?”

“Yeah. Because he’s a thief. I adopted him partly to stop him from swiping all the workers’ lunches. And not just food. Shoes, socks, toothbrush, you name it, he’ll take it. Last week he swallowed an entire dish towel, which involved a trip to the vet.”

“Ouch.”

“Bri’s going to buy Herons Landing,” Kylee said, jumping into the conversation.

The dark brow climbed again, practically disappearing beneath the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. And you sound skeptical.” Now that they’d moved to talking about work, Brianna was back in her comfort zone, her mind returning to a more familiar organizing and planning mode. “Kylee said you restored the exterior. Which looks wonderful, by the way.” She decided not to risk offending him by mentioning the exterior paint colors. “At least from the ad on the website.”

“The rough edges on that ad were smoothed out by the real estate agent doing some Photoshop magic,” he confirmed what she’d already been told. “Though that part’s close to being done. The interior, however, is definitely still a work in progress.”