Heron's Landing

“Which, I’ve learned over the course of our job, is contractor speak for ‘It’s going to take twice as long and three times the money,’” Kylee said.

“Especially when clients keep bringing up new ideas they want,” Seth responded pointedly.

Bandit, realizing that he’d gotten as much tummy rubbing as he was going to get right now, was sitting in front of Brianna, his brown eyes giving her an adoring look she guessed often worked to his advantage.

“I can’t deny that,” Kylee said with a laugh.

“I keep telling her to step away from Houzz and Pinterest,” Mai said. “But she’s like an addict. Just one more picture. And the next thing you know, it’s two in the morning and she’s printed out a stack of photos and suggestions.”

“I’m not that bad. And fortunately, Seth knows how to do everything.”

“Far from everything. But having grown up on work sites, it’s probably in my blood. I always knew I’d work to keep the town’s old buildings from being turned into parking lots or strip malls.” He turned to Brianna. “The same way you knew you wanted to work in hospitality. Whether it was finding a family the perfect Christmas tree, or creating a special hotel experience.”

Brianna was surprised he’d listened to any of her grand plans when they’d all hung out together back in high school. Every atom in his body had always seemed to be honed in on Zoe.

She stood back up and shrugged with a feigned casualness she was a long way from feeling. “I did love my work. Especially in the beginning.” Which she hadn’t taken time to appreciate, being so focused on racing past each rung of the hospitality ladder. “But after a while, it became more a case of ‘Be careful what you wish for.’”

“It happens.” He didn’t look all that surprised. On the contrary, his eyes, which she now noticed had deep shadows beneath them, turned sad. “So, what’s your new plan?”

“She’s turning it into a B and B,” Kylee answered before Brianna could. “So why don’t you take her over there and give her a professional opinion so she’ll know what she’s getting into when and if she ends up negotiating a price?”

“That’d probably be best for her contractor to discuss with her.”

“I was hoping you’d take on the job,” Brianna said, looking up at him in surprise. She’d never considered the possibility that anyone but Harper Construction would do the remodeling.

He put both his hands on his hips, his long, work-roughened fingers framing a part of his body that Brianna never allowed herself to even think about. Which was a lie. There’d been a time, during her freshman year of high school, when she’d first started having those feelings, that she’d definitely imagined what Seth Harper was hiding beneath those five metal buttons. He glanced over at her car with its back seat loaded with luggage and boxes. “Did you just arrive today?”

“On the four-o’clock ferry,” she confirmed. “I’m staying with my folks for the time being until I find a rental in town. But I’m sure you have better things to do right now, so perhaps we could set up an appointment, since Kylee’s idea for me to find out what I’m in for before I buy the house is a good one.”

A silence hung between them. Everyone, including Bandit, whose gaze had begun going back and forth between them, seemed to be waiting for Seth’s response.

“I don’t have anything else to do,” he said finally. A shadow had moved across those sad, dark eyes, like clouds drifting in from the coast before a storm. “If you don’t need to get straight out to the farm, I’m up for showing you through the house.” He looked down at her, studying her, his face unreadable. “Though I’ve got to warn you, it’s a long way from being livable enough to open for guests anytime soon.”

“It couldn’t be any worse than back when we used to sneak in,” she said.

“Got a point there.” And then he almost smiled. At least that’s what she thought that twitch at the corner of his lips might have meant to be. Though that could just be wishful thinking.

“I’ll meet you there,” she said.

“Works for me.”

All three women watched as he walked back to his truck. “I’m not into guys, but I’ve got to admit, that’s one damn fine butt,” Mai said on a long sigh.

“It’s all those squats,” Kylee said. When Brianna shot her friend a look, she lifted her hands and said, “Hey, he’s working on our house. I’d have to be blind not to notice him picking up all that lumber and stuff.”

“And those back muscles when he’s pounding nails,” Mai said on a sigh. “He’s like a living work of art. You should shoot him,” she told Kylee. “In the nude.”

“I’ve thought about doing a calendar of Honeymoon Harbor Hotties to raise money for the food bank. Not entirely nude. Just suggestive enough for those of us with dirty minds.” Kylee flashed a wicked grin. “He’d definitely fit right in.”

“You could have a showing and auction of the photos at Mike Mannion’s gallery,” Mai said. “It would boost interest in the calendar. Especially if you had all the guys standing next to big, blown-up photos of their months. The place would be packed with women from all over the peninsula. Not counting our brother gays.”

“She shoots. She scores. And the crowd goes wild,” Kylee, who’d played center for the town’s high school hoops team, said with a laugh.

“I’d buy it in a heartbeat,” Brianna said. It would be the closest she’d gotten to a naked man in too long to remember. “And, as much as this has been fun, I’d better get going.” Just the thought of a nude Builder McDreamy was raising her temperature.

“Good luck,” Kylee said as Brianna opened the driver’s door.

“Thanks. You know I’ve always loved that house.”

“Oh, yeah. The house.” Her friend’s knowing look reminded Brianna of all those times when they’d talked about her secret crush on the third member of the Three Musketeers’ boyfriend. “Good luck with that, too.”

CHAPTER SEVEN (#ue863acc8-22fb-58a3-a098-408b0c188a21)

DRIVING OVER TO Herons Landing, Seth passed two kids, about nine years old, racing their bikes down the quiet street lined with bright pink flowering plum trees and waved back at Otto and Alma Karlsson, who were sitting in rockers on their front porch. They’d celebrated their sixtieth anniversary in the town hall this past Valentine’s Day. The party had originally been planned to take place in the friendship hall of the Swedish Seamen’s Lutheran church, but when so many townspeople wanted to join in the celebration, it had been moved to the larger venue.

Turning left on Mountain View, the sight of Mellie and Jake Johnson pushing their two toddlers in a double stroller had him rubbing his chest. If he and Zoe had been successful in their baby-making plan, their child would be about the same age as the Johnson’s twins. It also occurred to him that, in a space of less than three minutes, he’d witnessed a circle of life. From the babies and their parents, to the preteens, to the elderly Karlssons.

Although she might have arrived in Honeymoon Harbor from Astoria, Zoe’s father’s family, like Seth’s own and the Mannions, were early settlers. From time to time he’d be dragged into pioneer celebrations, which he’d always enjoyed growing up, but the last few times had only made him all too aware that Zoe wasn’t there with him.

Putting that thought away in the mental lockbox, where he kept all things Zoe, he made another turn that took him past the high wrought iron gates of the cemetery, and along the water to the house in question.

The Queen Anne–era Victorian boasted three stories, four fireplaces, a turret and a curved porch with a view of both water and mountains. Back when it had been built by a timber baron in the late 1800s, at least two of the five acres it sat on had been gardens, which had long ago gone to weed.

He was standing on temporary gravel that had been planned to be a stone paver driveway, hands on his hips, looking up at the new slate roof that had cost an arm and leg but was historically accurate, when Brianna pulled up behind his truck.

The first thing he noticed when she climbed out of the snazzy red convertible, which wasn’t all that practical for the rainy Pacific Northwest, was how long her legs were. Why hadn’t he ever noticed that before? She was wearing a pair of cropped skinny jeans and a shirt blooming with hibiscus blossoms open over a white tank top. Her turquoise flats had little bows on the toes like the ones he remembered on Zoe’s ballet slippers during those years her mother had made her take dance lessons. Hopefully, Zoe had complained, with a roll of her expressive dark eyes, to make her more girly so she’d give up any idea of being a soldier.

Which, duh, hadn’t worked all that well since once Zoe Robinson got an idea in her head, it was impossible to shake it out. Still, those pale pink slippers with the lace-up ribbons and scuffed-up soles she was always having to clean were why those combat boots he’d last seen his wife wearing at her deployment ceremony at JBLM had always seemed so out of place.

Seeing his new best human friend again, Bandit loped over and jumped up, putting his paws on Brianna’s shoulders. At the same time a cloud overhead started spitting rain, making her colorful Las Vegas–style outfit all the more impractical. Which, even as he yelled at his dog to get down, had Seth wondering if it would really be possible for a woman who’d harbored such glamorous, big-city dreams to come home again.

The sudden cloudburst had soaked her, revealing a lacy bra beneath the white tank clinging to her lean body. It had been nearly three years since he’d seen a woman’s bra that wasn’t on a commercial for the Victoria’s Secret fashion show that’d pop up every year on ESPN. As an unbidden and entirely unwelcome feeling stirred, he snagged one of the emergency slickers he kept on hand for clients—usually Californians who didn’t understand the concept of weather changing on a dime—from his truck’s club cab back seat and held it out to her.

“Thanks.” She shrugged into it, covering up that see-through tank. “I remembered to put the top up on the car when I crossed the border into Oregon, but forgot the cardinal rule of never being without a rain jacket.” The sleeves fell nearly over her hands, which were tipped in coral lacquered nails that matched the flowers on her shirt. Each ring fingernail had a tiny white blossom with rhinestone centers painted on it, which was something he couldn’t remember ever seeing in Honeymoon Harbor.

“You probably didn’t need a slicker all that much in Vegas,” he said.

“That would be true. I know people up here dream of retiring to the desert, and a lot do, if all those gray-, blue-and purple-haired elderly ladies who’d camp out at the slots were any indication, but I never got the appeal. Natives would say there were two seasons: hot and hotter. I always thought there were three: hot, pizza oven hot and hell.” She lifted those colorful fingertips to her cheek. “And the lack of humidity, while good for hair, was horrible on the skin.”

Her skin looked just fine to him. When he found himself wondering if her smooth cheek felt as silky as it looked, the resultant stab of guilt jerked his mind back to their reason for being here.

“The color leaves a lot to be desired,” she said, looking up at what Seth personally considered an abomination, but the previous buyers had been adamant about wanting their very own painted lady.

“It’s undoubtedly visible from space,” he said.

“I would’ve gone with blue, to echo the water. Or perhaps yellow, to brighten the winter days. With crisp white trim.”

“Both of which I suggested.”