by Holly Jaymes
His death had taken the spark out of my mother. Out of all of us actually. But my father was a man who lived his life to the fullest, and our goal was to honor that by trying to live too. So even though seeing his empty chair made us all extremely sad, we sat at the table and strived to live fully.
“So, your rehab is starting tomorrow?” Will asked as mom served us pot roast and red potatoes.
“Yep.” I shivered as Samantha’s dance with death on the roof came to mind.
Nate laughed. “You don’t seem happy about it.”
I shook my head. “The house is fantastic. The bones are gorgeous and she could be a masterpiece.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Mitch asked, loading his plate with potatoes.
Her name stuck in the back of my throat. “The owner.”
“It’s not like you haven’t dealt with difficult owners before, dear.” My mother handed me the basket of bread.
I inhaled a breath, knowing I was going to get grief from my brothers over this bit of news. “It’s Samantha.”
Will choked. Nate laughed. Mitch snorted.
“Oh my,” my mother said, her brows pinched together in concern.
“How she look?” Will asked.
I frowned at him.
He shrugged. “She was always a looker.”
“She was on her fucking roof—”
“Gabe.” My mother chastised me.
“Sorry. She was on her fricking roof in a thunderstorm. We’ll be lucky if she survives the rehab.”
“Good thing you’ll be there to protect her,” Mitch said while buttering his potatoes and bread.
“I may end up throttling her.”
“Now, Gabe.”
“I won’t really, Mom.” I sometimes liked it rough in bed, but I’d never hurt a woman.
“I know.” She put her hand over mine. “After all this time though, do you really feel so bitter? You were just kids then.”
I swallowed and nodded. “You’re right.”
That’s what everyone had thought. We were just young in love kids that would eventually grow up and move on. At the time, I was sure Samantha and I would be together forever. Sure, I’d dated a lot of girls before her, but she’d been different. So different that I’d taken much of the first big check I’d received after I started my show and used it to buy a diamond ring that had sapphires as blue as her eyes. But the joke was on me because she was hooking up with her ex while I was trying to prepare for our future. I returned the ring and used the money for a down-payment on a home I flipped in Florida. Real estate never failed me or broke my heart.
I shook my head free of the negative thoughts. Mom was right. I had to let the bitterness go.
“Can we come watch?” Nate asked. “I like fireworks.”
Will and Mitch laughed. My mom cut them a look, but I saw the upward twitch of her lips. I laughed too. “You’ll love this, then.”
Book 1: Chapter 3 Samantha—Rehab Day One
Samantha
It took me a long time to go to sleep. I was excited by the start of the rehab of my house. At least that’s what I told myself. The fact that Gabe kept showing up in my dreams may have had something to do with it. I wanted to say it was a nightmare, but he was always shirtless with that cocky grin, and in my dream state, I found that quite arousing.
Finally, I fell into a deep sleep where I didn’t remember any more of my dreams. It seemed like I was only there for ten minutes when I was woken by a loud bang on the door and then my cell phone buzzing on my bedside table.
“Hello?” What the hell time is it? I wasn’t ready to open my eyes to find out, so I laid in bed in the dark with my eyes closed and the phone to my ear.
“Ms. Taylor, this is the Budget Rehab team. Did you forget we said we’d be here this morning?” I didn’t recognize the voice but I knew it wasn’t Gabe.
I looked at the clock which read 5:45 am. Geez, it was still the middle of the night. “I thought filming didn’t start until 8.” I wiped my eyes with my free hand.
“Yes, but we like to tour the home, check our schedules, get started clearing rooms—”
“I’ll be right down.” I was used to getting up early, although, during the summer when school was out, I liked to sleep in a little bit. But today my home was getting a much-needed start on the makeover and so I couldn’t be too upset about being woken before the sun was up.
Normally, during the hot humid summer, I’d wear shorts, but since I was going to help with the rehab of my home, I slipped on jeans and a seafoam green tank top. I splashed water on my face and pulled my hair into a ponytail, deciding against makeup. I had no one to impress. Then I made my way downstairs.
“Sorry about that,” I said as I opened the door. I mentally prepared myself to see Gabe, but he wasn’t there.
His crew entered my foyer, his assistant introducing the people with her. The only two I was able to keep track of were her - Megan - and another guy, the contractor, Steve.
“Today, we’ll have the electrician and plumbing guy to check out your systems to get an idea of what needs to be done. The good news is that a central air system was put in already, although this one is way old.” Megan was the epitome of efficiency and I suspect she was the reason things got done. She was petite with dirty blonde hair cut short. She wore overalls rolled up to her calves, with a white t-shirt and a red bandanna in her hair. She accentuated it all with bright red lipstick.
“I’m not sure how it’s still running,” Steve added. He was handsome in a clean-cut sort of way. His brown hair and beard stubble were well groomed. He dressed like Gabe; jeans and t-shirt although he didn’t exude the same sex appeal that Gabe did. Not that I thought Gabe was sexy. Well, I did, but I also hated him.
“So we’ll have a guy out to see about replacing it. Gabe also said that we needed the roofer here ASAP.” Megan referred to her notebook.
I nodded. “I’ve got a leak.”
“Filming-wise, we’ll do the exterior and the walkthrough today.” She looked me over. “You look fine, but if you wanted to put makeup on, you won’t look so tired on camera.”
I pressed a hand to my face. Seriously? This makeover was for my house, not me. Then again, she was wearing bright red lipstick. “Sure.”
“We’ll also do some clearing out.” Megan looked into the rooms off the foyer. On one side was the living room and the other a library. “Although most rooms look pretty empty.”
“I knew I’d be working on the house so I haven’t fully furnished it.” Of course, all the money I had, had gone into the house, so I didn’t have a lot of furniture. I’d moved from a small eight-hundred square foot apartment into this large three-thousand square foot Victorian home. Everything I owned could probably fit in the library, which would have been fine since I loved that room.
I heard movement on the roof and looked up.
“That’s Gabe,” Megan said. “He’s checking the tarp. Like I said, the roofer will be here a little later. We can’t do any actual work that makes noise until seven. County noise ordinance.”
“You weren’t really up there during a storm yesterday, were you?” Steve asked, his expression suggesting it couldn’t possibly be true that I’d have done something so crazy.
Reluctantly, I nodded. “I didn’t want more damage that would eat into my budget. I suspect it’s already tight.”
They both looked at each other like I was an idiot. I wondered if Gabe and they had shared a good laugh about it.
“That’s crazy,” Megan finally said.
“That was my thought too,” Gabe said as he strode into my house, wearing jeans and a light gray t-shirt that fit snug over his muscles. I had to remind myself I hated him because my hormones were wanting to rip his shirt off and run my tongue over his hard chest. Did he have a six-pack or a maybe a twelve-pack? I shook my head to get rid of the unwanted thoughts.
His eyes scanned me. “Ready to work, princess?”
I frowned. “I don’t re
member you being such a sexist.”
Megan’s eyes widened as she looked at Steve, who shrugged.
Gabe’s jaw tensed in what I supposed meant he didn’t like being called out for being a jerk. Then don’t be one, I thought.
He turned to Megan. “We on schedule?”
She nodded. “We’re ready to walk through. The crew will be here soon to set up the interior shots. Exterior is set for eight.”
Gabe nodded. “Let’s take another look.”
“You’ve all been through the house several times,” I said as Gabe walked to the front living area.
“Measure twice, cut once,” Gabe said as he walked the room. He lifted the corner of the hideous brown shag carpet. I knew that underneath there were hardwood floors. I hoped they were in good enough condition that I wouldn’t have to put in a new rug.
“I bet you’ll be glad to see that go,” Steve said.
“Yes.”
Gabe ran his hands over the plaster wall, stood on the daybed nestled in the bay window to analyze the windows, and looked at the boarded-up fireplace.
“Did you get a chimney expert scheduled?” he asked.
“End of the week,” Megan responded.
Gabe nodded and then walked out of the room, across the foyer to the library. I was especially excited about that room and couldn’t wait to fill the gorgeous oak bookcases with books.
“I’ve found a beautiful green baroque wallpaper that I’d love in here,” I said as Gabe moved through the room, checking the bookcases, window seat and windows.
“Baroque is a little early for Victorian,” Gabe said as he squatted down in front of the fireplace.
“It’s pretty.” I understood that there was some control I’d have to give up in this home renovation by having a TV show do it for me, but surely, I could have some say in the décor?
He stood and stared at me for a moment. Then he turned to Megan. “Did Candace meet with her?”
Who was Candace and why was he talking like I wasn’t in the room?
I stepped into his eyeline. “No. Candace has not met with me.”
Again, his jaw tensed but he moved closer to me, almost too close for propriety. His eyes drifted down to my lips and then up to my eyes again. This close, I could feel the heat of his body. Inhale the scent of his soap. My brain short-circuited back to four years ago when I used to lay in his arms savoring both of those things.
“She met with Darryl,” Megan said. “Candace… She wanted time off.”
Something flickered off in Gabe’s eyes that made me wonder if he and Candace had been more than colleagues. If that was the case, I couldn’t blame Candace for wanting time off. She probably discovered he was putting his hands on more than renovation projects when he traveled.
“He’ll be here Wednesday,” Steve added.
There was sound in the foyer and another man walked in.
“Oh, Mr. Beemer.” Megan motioned with her hand for him to enter. “Gabe, Mr. Beemer is the electrician.”
Gabe abruptly stepped away from me to meet the electrician. I took the moment to catch my breath. How was I going to survive eight weeks of this?
“Steve, can you finish walking through with the homeowner? I want to check things with Mr. Beemer.”
“Call me Joe.”
“Joe.” Gabe smiled and shook the man’s hand.
“Gabe is always a little intense at the start of a rehab,” Megan said to me once Gabe and Joe Beemer left.
Steve nodded toward the door. “Let’s look at the kitchen.”
Several hours later, Gabe was outside with a camera crew filming the introduction of my house. I watched him talk about the architecture of the home, noting the gleam in his eyes as he explained the history of the home and this area of Virginia. Some of the information I didn’t know and I felt a little guilty. It didn’t seem right that he’d know more about my house than I did.
His delivery was smooth. He smiled a lot, joked a little, and looked completely at ease. It reminded me of the Gabe I used to know.
But when he came inside for my introduction and to do a tour of the home with me, his demeanor changed. He was stiff and closed off. I scoffed at his attitude that seemed to suggest I was the offending party in our relationship. He was the one that messed things up for us, so why was he acting like I’d done him wrong?
When the tour was done, the roofer started on my new roof, and we worked to empty rooms of furniture and gnarly carpet. In the living room, it took several of us to roll it up because the room was so wide. I ended up next to Gabe in the task, and had to endure watching the muscles in his arms bunch and flex as he pushed the carpet. The guy was too sexy for words. Why did he have to be a jerk too?
At the end of the day, my muscles were screaming for a hot soak in Epsom salt and a large glass of wine.
“You did good work today,” Steve said to me as the crew packed up for the day. As the day went on, he was the one I spoke to the most. I got the feeling he noted the tension between Gabe and me, and he wanted to smooth it over.
“Thank you.” I looked around the living room. The carpet was gone, revealing beautiful hardwood. It needed to be sanded and restained, but already the room felt like it was nearing its former glory.
He stared at me for a moment like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure he should or was nervous about it.
“Steve, let’s meet,” Gabe called from the foyer into the living room.
He nodded to me. “See you tomorrow. Bright and early.”
“I’ll be up this time.” I walked out with him. Everyone made their way out the front door until only Gabe was left.
“Don’t distract my men,” he said.
I frowned at him. “What’s your problem?”
“This work is dangerous and I don’t want my men distracted, especially by women who are accident-prone.”
I pursed my lips at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He leaned closer to me, and again, I felt the heady sensation of his nearness. Shut up, hormones. To my credit, I didn’t flinch or back away. I held his steely gaze with a bravado I didn’t quite feel.
“Ahem, Gabe,” Megan said from the doorway.
“Yeah?” He didn’t take his eyes off mine.
“Neal is on the phone.”
He inhaled a breath and then broke the stare-off, stepping back. “Stay off the roof,” he said before walking out the door, taking the phone from Megan as he did.
I rolled my eyes and shut the door. I dragged my weary body upstairs and filled the large, beautiful original clawfoot tub with water and Epsom salt. My muscles sang as I lowered myself into the steamy bath.
I dropped my head back and closed my eyes. What a day. I hoped that as the work went on, I wouldn’t have to spend as much time with Gabe. The tension with him was thick. He clearly didn’t want to be around me, which was good, because I didn’t want to be around him either.
My heart sank as the memory of how good we’d been originally flooded my brain. The summer four years ago had been magical. That first kiss after he saved me from being locked out in my underwear had always stayed with me. It was why most of the men I’d dated since him never had more dates with me after the first kiss. None of them curled my toes like Gabe’s kisses had.
I remembered hassling him about his treehouse and the no-girls rule, and then one night, when he was house-sitting while his parents were out of town, he took me up there. It was the first time we’d made love. My body went soft and pliant as the memory of his hands caressing my body and his lips skimming over my skin came back vivid and real.
I’d thought he was a different sort of man. I thought he loved me and wanted a life with me. But in the end, he was like so many men who were unable to avoid the temptation of other women. Perhaps we’d been naïve to think we could survive a long-distance relationship. My parents thought so. They even tried to hook me up with my ex-boyfriend, Dean. We hung out a few times, but no romantic feel
ings ever resurfaced, at least for me. Still, Dean had been a great source of support as I worked through my heartbreak over Gabe.
I thought I’d gotten through all those feelings, but seeing Gabe and the onslaught of hate and yearning were confusing, and showed that maybe I hadn’t dealt with it after all. Ugh.
This rehab was going to be hard if my emotions clouded everything up. Weirdly, he seemed to be having trouble too. Was he feeling guilty? Good. That man had done me wrong and he deserved to feel bad.
Book 1: Chapter 4 Gabe—Near-Misses
Gabe
I got off the phone with the home office of the network after letting them know the first day of shooting and the rehab went well, although I wasn’t sure that was true. The actual work itself went fine. Working alongside Samantha… Well, that was a different story.
I walked into the office set up in my rental home. Megan and Steve were already there, each with a drink in hand and chatting.
“Good first day, Gabe,” Megan said as I strode in and took a seat behind the desk.
I nodded. “How are we on permits and orders? This needs to be done eight weeks to the day, no delays.” It was going to be hard enough to work with Samantha as it was. I didn’t want to have to continue past the eight weeks I’d committed to the project.
Steve cocked his head slightly; a clear indication that he noted my frustration. “So far everything is on schedule, but it’s early.”
I took a deep breath knowing he was right. I hadn’t been on a rehab yet that didn’t involve something that put a crimp in the plans. The basement leaked or there was mold or the flooring didn’t arrive or was the wrong floor, and so on. Even so, I usually finished on time or within a day or two.
