A Time to Build (Love's Time Book 2)

by Dora Hiers

  Something was wrong. Had something happened to their mother? Or Ryan?

  He took a step toward her.

  “We’ll be right there.” Remi covered the receiver with her hand and mouthed. “Jillian.”

  Jillian?

  Alarm flared, and he struggled to breathe and swallow. In two long strides, he was by Remi’s side with his hand out, but she’d already disconnected.

  “Jillian was in an accident on her way to work this morning.”

  Dread careened straight to his gut, heavy and unyielding. He’d promised her that they’d catch up later. What if—

  “The nurse said she’s stable.” Worry lines etched Remi’s forehead. Her shoulders slumped.

  Mason curled her against his side and pressed a kiss against her hair. “I’m sorry, love. I can rearrange my schedule on the way to the hospital.”

  The racecar driver had a plane to catch.

  “I can take Remi.” Carson tugged the front door open and glanced over his shoulder. Adrenaline pumped through his limbs, the urge to run to the car overwhelming. The panic wouldn’t release its grip until he saw Jillian with his own eyes.

  Remi hopped on one foot, tugging her sneakers on. “No. You go on. Mason can catch a later flight.”

  She didn’t need to tell him twice.

  What if he was too late? Lord, please let her be all right.

  ****

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  If she hadn’t allowed herself to be so distracted with thoughts of Carson while she was driving, she wouldn’t be stretched out on this hard bed, underneath these stiff white sheets.

  The doctor informed her that she was in for an overnight stay.

  “Of all the—” She jerked the sheet and mashed it down over her hips, adjusting it to cover her scars. She eyed the clothes hanging over the chair. If she could only force her jelly-like legs to move, she could—

  “When I told you that I’d catch up with you later, I didn’t expect it to be here.” Amusement blended with concern in the deep voice that came from near the door.

  Carson!

  As if she didn’t already know who was standing there with a shoulder propped against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, looking all wonderful and masculine in denim that hugged his long legs, his leather tool belt slung low over lean hips. His hair touched the collar of his cotton tee. His lips curved in the lopsided grin that always spiked her heart rate, his dimples winking through his heavy beard.

  She shot him a glare and blew out a breath, flipping the wispy bangs dangling over her aching forehead away from her face. Feeling exposed and especially raw emotionally, she tugged the sheet back up to her neck, wishing she could cover the purple marks on her face.

  Was this how Maria felt?

  Shame burned up her neck, followed by compassion for the teen. Jillian had always been able to hide most of her scars, but Maria would wear them like a badge of courage on her face and neck. Determination to help the girls on the burn unit ignited anew.

  “So today’s my lucky day, huh?” He’d waited two long days to fulfill his promise to catch up with her. And he chose today of all days? She shook her head at the irony, but the motion hurt too much. So much for ditching the hospital.

  A moan escaped. She covered her face with her hand and rubbed the ache in her forehead.

  He was by her side in an instant. Concern darkened his face. “What happened?” His fingers grazed her forearm, his touch gentle and soothing yet sparking tingles to dance along her arm. Some emotion flickered in his eyes. Raw, untapped, unfamiliar, and she couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

  She gulped and tamped down the hope that blossomed in her chest, refusing to allow it to take root. After all, he’d be leaving soon.

  And then where would she be? Right back where she’d always been.

  Alone.

  ****

  How could he not have realized how very much he loved this sweet, shy woman before now? Why did it take her pain and suffering for him to wake up and recognize the depths of his love?

  His eyes devoured her, taking in every detail. The waves of emotion that flitted across her face. The way those specks in her eyes morphed from forest green to a warm brown. The beautiful bow-shaped curve to her lips. The deep purple bruises on her cheek and the hollows of her neck. Those silky strands of thick blonde hair.

  He traced an imaginary line on her forearm, satisfied when a slight tremble rippled through her shoulders and goose bumps spiked along her arms.

  He loved her.

  He let that sink in along with all the repercussions that loving someone brought. Could he dig roots deep enough to live in one place indefinitely? Could he stare at the same person across the dinner table for the rest of his life? Could he cope with the little ones that would eventually come along?

  He slid his hand to where her hair splayed against the stark white pillow. He stroked her hair all the way to the tips then rubbed the silky strands between his fingers and thumb. His gaze settled on her face, at the dark smudges circling her wide eyes, her parted lips.

  Sitting across the dinner table from Jillian for the rest of his life? Crawling into bed together every night? Waking up to this beauty? Like that would be a hardship.

  But…

  Providing for his family might be. And the job that he didn’t have, yet.

  His hand dropped back to the bed rail with a bang.

  Sadness and resignation lined Jillian’s clamped lips. Her nostrils flared, acknowledging what he hadn’t said in words.

  He’d disappointed her. Again. But this time couldn’t be helped. With nothing to offer her, he refused to make promises he couldn’t keep or live up to expectations he couldn’t meet.

  Lord, help me to be the man she needs. Give me the means to provide for her and our family, and a love that lasts into eternity.

  Her heavy sigh lifted the blanket. “A car ran through a stop sign. The fog was so heavy and dense. I’m sure the guy didn’t see it until it was too late. Thankfully, neither one of us was going too fast. Just fast enough to crumple my door and land me in here for the night.”

  He squeezed his eyes closed and offered a silent prayer of thanks that Jillian had been spared serious injury, especially since the car slammed into the driver’s side of the truck.

  “Hey. It’s okay.” The soft tone and brush of her fingertips along his jaw zapped his lashes open. Surely, she’d glimpsed the anguish in his eyes.

  He swallowed the heavy lump forcing its way down his throat. He’d finally reached the point where he longed to share his journey, to face life’s daily pressures and responsibilities, literally ached to wake up every morning and fall asleep every night with this sweet woman by his side. Surely God wouldn’t bring him to this place if it was too late for them. He had to believe the Lord’s plan was for the best, wherever it took him.

  “You could’ve been killed.” With a shaky breath, he threaded their fingers together, loving the contact, needing to know that she was still with him.

  His breath trapped in his lungs.

  She. Was. Still. With. Him.

  Unlike that horrendous Halloween day. The day his father hung himself.

  The day Carson had understood that kids weren’t as important as winning golf tournaments. The day he’d discovered that fathers didn’t keep their promises. That love wasn’t enough.

  He’d heard the hypocritical platitudes as people shook his mom’s hand at the funeral. That heaven had gained a wonderful man. At twelve years old, Carson decided he didn’t want to go to heaven. Not if heaven stole dads.

  It had taken years for Carson to reconcile that his father’s final act had nothing to do with loving Carson and his siblings enough to plow through his problems until he got to the other side.

  Did he really want to waste any more years than he already had?

  When Jillian reached up to arrange her hair to cover the purple bruises on her forehead, he stopped her with a gentle touch. He leaned in and g
razed his knuckles across her cheeks. “You’re beautiful. You know that?”

  She scoffed and turned her head to the other side, away from him, so he couldn’t see her face. Would he see sadness? Insecurity? Shame?

  Shame roared through him like an angry lion. He’d done that to her. Made her feel worthless and ashamed of her body because of her scars. It was up to him to repair the damage.

  He nudged her back to face him. Tears tracked a dark line down her cheeks.

  His jaw clenched and unclenched. He’d been so young and immature, so angry at the world, and he’d taken it out on his best friend.

  His fingers curled around her neck, and he leaned in, close enough for her breaths to tantalize him. “Jillian Sutthill, I have been from one end of this earth to the other. You are the most beautiful woman on the face of the planet. Don’t you ever believe otherwise.”

  She sucked in air. Her eyes shifted again, from scared and lonely to warm and inviting. Then her gaze dropped to his lips, and hers parted.

  Cradling her cheek with his palm, his lips brushed hers, gentle, undemanding, just a whisper of a touch. When she responded, her arms circling his neck and tugging him closer, he deepened the kiss. As if their hearts melded together, connecting on a higher plane than just physical, their past and present wove into a beautiful tapestry sealed with a promise for the future. Finally, when his lungs threatened to give out on him, he feathered tiny kisses along her jaw and cheek.

  Sneakers slapped the floor behind him. At first, the sound didn’t sink in, but the startled voice and the rubber skidding against the tile stopped him cold. “Oops. I’ll just slip down to the cafeteria for a few minutes—”

  Remi. How could he have forgotten that his sister was coming?

  A deep breath blew against his face. Apparently, Jillian was as unhappy with the interruption as him. Her arms dropped away from his neck.

  Bummer. He kinda liked them there. But now wasn’t the time or the place.

  Would You reveal Your path soon, Lord? Please?

  18

  “Hold still.” Remi dangled the scissors too near his eyes, trying to pull off a stern look.

  “I need to see to make it to the interview tomorrow morning.” He gave her hand a gentle push.

  He still hadn’t forgiven her for cutting short that toe-tingling kiss earlier today. That Jillian had seemed just as aggravated with the interruption, though, made it easier to pardon his sister. Plus she’d agreed to give him a haircut.

  Remi arched dark eyebrows. “Yes, but do you want any hair left? Or should I just pull out Mason’s electric razor and shave it all off?”

  “No need to get prickly about it.”

  “I’m not. But if you keep fidgeting, I’m sure to mess up.”

  Mason’s deep chuckle sounded from the recliner. He glanced up from the electronic tablet, smiling, his hand automatically reaching to stroke Goliath, the golden retriever always at his master’s side, who was sporting his summer ’do. “Better watch it, Carson. Goliath here found out that she can just shave it off way better and faster than she can trim.”

  Remi shot her husband a glare, but even Carson could see the love shining from her face, the way her lips curved up at the corners.

  Mason’s only response was to laugh harder. He gave the dog a hefty pat on his flank, set the tablet on the side table, and walked into the kitchen barefooted, the bottoms of his jeans making scuffing noises against the hardwood.

  Remi leaned into Mason’s kiss, forgetting all about Carson’s haircut.

  “Hey, no smooching allowed. I’m paying for a haircut here.”

  Remi snaked an arm around her husband’s waist, the other brandished the scissors in the air. Mischief gleamed from her eyes. “I could have said those exact words to you earlier today.”

  “What? What did I miss?” Mason draped an arm around Remi’s neck and drew her closer to his side.

  Carson sighed, longing for that camaraderie, that sense of belonging to someone. To Jillian.

  “Carson was kissing Jillian.” Remi spilled her guts.

  Mason’s jaw dropped. “Ohhh. Must have been at the hospital.”

  Remi nodded. “You wouldn’t have known they were in a public place by the way they were lip locked.”

  “Lip locked? That’s not—” What could he say that wouldn’t give his sister more fodder? “Hey, what happened to my haircut?”

  “You just don’t want to admit that you have a thing for Jillian.” Remi’s teasing tone and expression faded into something serious. Her scissor hand dropped to the counter. “You’ve always had a thing for her.”

  Mason squeezed his wife’s shoulder and kissed her forehead. “Sorry to leave this conversation just as it’s getting interesting, but I need to get going if I hope to make this flight.”

  “Sure. Throw me under the bus.” Carson smiled at Mason’s back.

  “Nah, I think you managed that all by yourself.” Mason flashed a wicked grin over a shoulder as he headed into the bedroom.

  Carson glared back, but Mason only closed the door. He had to admit. His brother-in-law was pretty cool.

  “Why don’t you finally do and say what you should have years ago?” Remi sounded exasperated. She picked up where she left off, but this time, she whacked at his hair. Huge clumps dropped to the floor.

  This wasn’t looking good. His chest heaved with his sigh. “I can’t.”

  “Why not? What’s stopping you?” Whack. Whack. Whack. More hair plunged to the floor.

  He rolled his eyes. “A job, for one.”

  “You’re working on it, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” He averaged submitting about twenty applications a day, but other than the interview tomorrow and the offer from the one in Raleigh, no other bites.

  “Do you think Jillian minds that you don’t have a job?”

  His spine stiffened. “I—”

  “Hold still. And doesn’t our remodel count?”

  “It’s a start, along with Randolph’s, if—”

  “What? Corbin offered you a remodel job?”

  “Not yet. He called about getting a bid to expand his building. I was supposed to go by this morning, but—” He shrugged. He didn’t need to tell her that Jillian came first. “I had to reschedule for tomorrow after my interview.” And before he picked up Jillian from the hospital. He just hoped nobody beat him to it.

  Remi bobbed her head, and he noticed that less of his hair was fluttering to the floor. Was that because she was close to being done or because he didn’t have much left?

  He reached a hand up to check, smoothing his fingertips down the length of his neck. So far, it didn’t seem like she’d butchered him.

  She swatted at his hand. “I’m not done, yet.”

  “With the haircut or the lecture?” he teased.

  “Smartie.” She bopped him on the head. “I have quite a few years to make up for in the lecturing department.”

  “Well, I think you’re going to get it all out in one night.” He didn’t really mind. Kinda enjoyed the sibling squabbling. It had been too long.

  Her breath puffed against the nape of his neck as she snipped at the bottom of his hair. “So, tell me about this interview tomorrow.”

  “It’s with a real estate firm.”

  “Really? Doing what?”

  “Overseeing the remodel of some properties listed with them, and then the staging afterwards.”

  She stretched to her full height, the scissors dangling idly at her side, her expression thoughtful. “Wow! That sounds perfect, especially for your skills.” The scissors slashed through the air, encompassing the kitchen. “You did a fabulous job with my kitchen.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Did you take some pictures of my kitchen for your portfolio?”

  “Portfolio?”

  “Yeah. Pictures. So you can dazzle them with your handiwork, show them what you’re capable of.”

  Hmmm…that wasn’t a bad idea. He had references and let
ters but no pictures.

  A door opened, and Mason stepped out of the bedroom.

  “Honey?” Remi glanced over Carson’s head. “Would you mind grabbing my tablet from that side table there? We need to take some pictures of the kitchen for Carson.”

  “Sure.”

  Remi set the scissors on the counter and unlatched the towel draped around Carson’s neck.

  “Thanks.” He rose and brushed the loose hair off his shirt.

  “Come on, Carson. We need to get the kitchen cleaned up for the pictures.” She handed him a broom and dustpan.

  He swept while she put things back in order.

  He was all for dazzling Justine Silver with his handiwork. Especially if it meant getting the job. Which meant staying in town.

  And then?

  Follow through on his commitment, on a lifetime with Jillian.

  ****

  Carson handed Justine Silver his sister’s tablet, open to the pictures they’d taken of the newly remodeled kitchen last night. Remi had even scrounged up some “before” pictures to show the difference. He owed her. Big time.

  Especially when Ms. Silver’s eyebrows arched. Wonder glazed her face as she took her time flipping through the pictures. She handed the tablet back. “Impressive.”

  “Thanks.”

  She scooped his application from her desk and scanned through it again, leaning back in her plush leather chair, her shoulder-length gray hair sleek in a stylish bob. The impeccable business suit must have cost a fortune.

  He crossed a leg over the other and swiped his palms against the newest, cleanest pair of jeans he owned.

  “You’ve been around.” She glanced up briefly with a slight frown marring her forehead, then back to the paper in her hand.

  He nodded but didn’t say anything. What could he say? It was true.

  His erratic employment history had never really been an issue with getting a job until now. Most of his previous employers were more than happy to find someone willing to step in immediately and hired him on the spot. Besides, he had a feeling Ms. Silver wouldn’t appreciate any justification on his part.

  “So why should I give you the job?” Her gaze flicked past him, toward the door, dismissively as she dropped the application back on the desk.