One Good Reason

Not in this house.

“Move,” Jon demanded.

“He’s dead. And even if he wasn’t, he’s not worth it. Not in a million years.”

A surge of anger gave Jon new strength. He wrenched his brother to the side. Shoved past him and into the hall and out the door.

The air was cool on his face, the grass still damp from the morning dew. He dropped the bag on the ground and stood half-turned away from the house, chest heaving from the exertion, aware of his brother in the open doorway, watching him.

This wasn’t about his father. Jon refused to let him hold that much power over him. He was simply making the most of the house. Fulfilling its potential. It was what he did—he was a builder. He made homes for people. Until recently he’d co-owned a construction company in Toronto. This was business as usual.

His gaze found the recycling bin, filled to overflowing with various liquor bottles.

Too many bottles for one person. Way too many.

He swore. Ran a hand through his hair, fisting his fingers in it and pulling so tightly that it hurt.

Why couldn’t Tyler have left him here to rot, or whatever it was he was doing? Why couldn’t Tyler have left him to battle it out on his own with the ghost of a dead man?

He laughed, a short, hard bark of bitter amusement.

If this really was a battle, according to the tide of bottles spilling onto the lawn, he was making a pretty poor showing. He was in full retreat, utterly routed, on his way to surrender.

Tyler’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“Let’s patch it up and sell it. Then never look back.”

Jon knew his brother was right but he hated the understanding in his voice. He twisted from under his brother’s grip. Moved away from him.

“We should focus on the kitchen, knock it off first. The bathroom won’t need too much time if we stick to the original layout.”

Carefully not looking at his brother, he strode toward the house.

CHAPTER ONE

March

GABBY WADE BELTED OUT THE chorus to Sinéad O’Connor’s classic “Nothing Compares 2 U” as she pulled into her usual parking spot in front of T.A. Furniture Designs, her voice echoing loudly in the small space. She waited until the final notes of the song had faded before turning off the ignition with a contented sigh.

There was nothing better than a really good angst-ridden ballad to kick off a Monday morning, and no one was better at it than Sinéad. Gabby grabbed her bag then twisted to collect the jumbo box of doughnuts from the backseat. The smell of chocolate and strawberry wafted to her as she walked toward the showroom door. It was barely eight o’clock, so the entrance was still locked, and she balanced the box on her knee as she struggled to get her key in the lock. The doughnuts nearly hit the dust before she got the door open, but she managed to keep her grip on them. Not that it would have made much difference to the guys—they would probably eat cardboard if it had chocolate frosting on it. A little gravel would hardly put them off.

She locked up behind her, then passed through the showroom, making a mental note to rearrange the display sometime this week. Even though she was officially only the office manager, she’d been stepping into sales a lot more lately and a static showroom wasn’t doing anyone any favors.

Heaven knew, Tyler was too distracted these days to notice those kinds of things. It was just as well she had his back.

The sharp whine of a power saw hit her as she entered the workshop. Dino was ripping some red gum, and Paul was setting up the router to bevel the edge on a cherry dining table. Carl was marking up some wood, squinting like crazy because he still refused to admit he needed glasses.

“Morning, boys,” Gabby hollered over the noise.

Dino grunted without looking up, while Carl ignored her altogether. Paul glanced up briefly, throwing her a token wave. She waited for his brain to register what she held in her hands.

One cat-dog, two cat-dog, three—

His head whipped up again and his mouth curled into a sweet smile. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yes, my gallant prince, it is. Two dozen of Krispy Kreme’s finest for the fairest gentlemen in all the land.”

The saw stopped abruptly. Suddenly all eyes were on her.

Nothing like refined sugars and fats to get a man’s attention.

“Gabby, you’re a gem.” Dino started toward her, dusting his hands together.

“What he said,” Carl echoed, his eyes on the box as he followed in Dino’s footsteps.

“Try to leave some for Tyler and Kelly,” Gabby said.

Paul took the box from her hands. “Of course. We’re not animals.”

Dino had a doughnut in each hand.

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said.

Dino laughed sheepishly as she turned toward her office. Then, as though it had only just occurred to her, she swung around.

“I almost forgot—we really need to get that boardroom table out tomorrow. So anything you guys could do to finish it would be really appreciated.”

Dino froze midbite. “So these are bribe doughnuts? Nice. How cheap do you think we are?”

“I got chocolate custard, your favorite.”

Dino’s aggrieved look faded a fraction. “Fine. We’ll do what we can. But no promises.”

Gabby hid her grin as she walked to her office. If she knew Dino—and after three years of being Tyler’s office manager, she was pretty confident she did—the table would be ready for the afternoon’s deliveries. And all it had cost her was a trip to Krispy Kreme.

United Nations, eat your heart out.

She pushed open her office door—and froze.

A complete stranger—a man—sat at her desk, his back to the door as he used her computer.

She stared at his broad shoulders, strong neck and close-cropped dark hair. What the hell was he doing in her office? Making himself at home in her chair?

“Um, excuse me …?” she finally said when she’d gotten over her initial surprise.

He held up an imperious hand, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder to see who it was. “Won’t be a minute.”

She stared, incredulous, as whoever-he-was continued to tap at the keyboard.