Love Under Construction

by Britney M. Mills

  “Good morning. You’re up early.”

  Colton’s deep voice caused her to jump, sending a quick surge of adrenaline through her. “Did you sneak up on me?”

  He shook his head. “No. I wasn’t trying to be quiet. I think you were just too focused on that paper in your hands. What is that anyway?”

  She pulled it to her chest, covering it with both hands. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up, and he reached a hand forward, lightly pulling at her wrist to see the paper. Again with the sparks from his touch. “It wouldn’t happen to be a miniature map of the land now, would it?”

  Becca tried to hide a grin and turned away, feeling the absence of his touch. “Maybe.”

  She was turned around completely, peeking over her shoulder to see where Colton stood. Using his height, he reached his long arm around her shoulder, his mouth near her ear. “Let me take a look at that.” His fingers grabbed onto the paper and tugged upward with a little bit of force. Becca tried to hold on but gave up, letting him have it.

  “Well, now that you’re here with the contractor, what can I help you with? Do you have any questions about the property?”

  “What are you planning on doing for water?” Becca leaned in to look at the map, her head lightly resting on his upper arm, sending her senses running out of control. Taking a step back, she swallowed once before looking him in the eye. “Do we have enough wells, or can the houses be hooked up to the town water without running everyone else dry?”

  He wagged his finger at her. “That’s a really good question, actually. We—”

  “Wait. Did you think I wouldn’t ask good questions?” She took a step toward him, both hands on her hips and her head tilted back enough to stare at him. She was baiting him, and the worried expression on his face made it hard to keep her own face neutral. He was cute when he was flustered.

  He chuckled. “No. Not many people outside of contractors understand the importance of water systems. Because we have the lake up in the hills—”

  “Pond,” she cut in.

  “Sorry, pond,” he said, emphasizing it while smiling at her. “With the pond up there and Sage Creek running just on that side of the subdivision, those are options for an emergency. There are several natural springs running through the town that came up in the tests. The proposed lots would be using wells, unless the town allows for extra shares to hook into the town water system.” He paused and glanced at her. “Was that too much?”

  Becca shook her head. She liked that he didn’t phrase it as a done deal just yet. Another part of her was in awe at how open he was about all of this. Peter had always kept things so hush-hush, making it hard to know when she could ask about something. Colton’s face showed his excitement as he talked about it.

  “Do you like your job?” she asked.

  “I do. I mean, I know I can’t be the carpenter forever, and overseeing a project is a new challenge I want to take on,” Colton said, avoiding her gaze and stuffing one hand into his pant pocket. “I like seeing things put together. I can drive by several places in the suburbs of Denver and say, ‘I worked on that house.’”

  “That’s cool.” She’d never thought of building houses in that way, always thinking it was about the profit made and how quickly the job could be done. She paused a moment before turning around. “How big are the lots? I know they’re a certain amount by looking at the plat map, but can you show me how big an acre is?”

  Colton’s face brightened as a smile spread across his face, and he leaned into her as he pointed to the stake to her right. “Sure. We have these stakes set here by the surveyors in the hopes that we will get this passed through.” He pointed to a large rod right next to them and then signaled the ones positioned down the land. She was surprised at how big even a half-acre looked from this angle. Sure, it might not be the same with a house on it, but it was more property than most homes in town had.

  She glanced around, unable to think of any more questions at the moment and trying to keep her mind from running back to the protective nature she felt when she was around Colton. Now, looking at the map, she realized things were fairly well drawn out. There went one of her reasons to dispute the whole thing. “Well, thank you for your help. I need to get back and open up the shop.”

  “Do you need a hand? I don’t really have a lot to do until the council makes a decision.” With his head tilted to the side and his smile emphasizing the scar on his chin, she was surprised at how much she wanted him to hang out a little more.

  Coming to her senses, she shook her head. “I appreciate it, but I don’t have any big orders today, and everything with the wedding is close to done, so it might be kind of boring for you.”

  Colton held up his hands and took his wallet out of his back pocket. “No problem. Just let me know if you do need help.” He pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “My cell is on there. Call or text.”

  Becca smiled and nodded. “Will do. Thank you.”

  He walked her back to her bike, strolling alongside her as she took the handlebars. They chatted about menial things as they moved along the road, Colton saying goodbye once they reached the hotel.

  He waved to her before disappearing through the front door, and Becca couldn’t get the imprint of his bright smile and chocolate-brown eyes out of her head all the way back to the flower shop.

  Chapter 11

  Going for a stroll down the street an hour or two later, Colton glanced at the shops as he passed them. He’d thought of this as a small town because it was nowhere near the size of Denver, but it wasn’t like they had nothing. They had all the modern conveniences of a normal city, just in a more compact area.

  The sign above the hardware store reminded him of Becca’s words to include local businesses if the subdivision was passed. He stepped through the door and browsed the shelves, looking at the gleaming tools and random gadgets stocked there.

  Someone stopped him and asked, “Can I help you with something?”

  Colton shook his head. “No, I’m just checking out what you’ve got here.”

  The young man pointed at him. “You must be that new contractor, right?”

  When Colton nodded his head, the man smiled, holding out his hand to shake, which Colton did. “I hope when the subdivision gets approved, you’ll look at using some of the supplies I have here. I know sometimes it’s cheaper to ship from the bigger cities, but us little guys can always use a little leg up, you know? And I have several contacts to be able to order in bulk and get a great price.”

  That was something Colton could get behind. “When I get all the information, I’ll give you a list to bid, and we’ll go from there. If I can use things locally, I’d prefer that.”

  The man’s face lit up. “I’m Tanner Hart. What was your name?”

  “Colton Maxfield. To be honest, this would be my first time being a project manager. I’m just hoping the town council passes it.” He let out a strangled laugh, realizing how much work this kind of building would be. He’d only ever worked on one home at a time, and arranging the subcontractors for each phase of building for several projects at once would definitely be a challenge.

  “Me too. Well, it’s great to meet you. I’m the owner of this shop as of three months ago when my father decided to retire, so I’d like to get some more work going and get this place built up.”

  There was nothing Colton liked better than working with people of the same mind. And working locally sometimes had its advantages.

  A customer came in, and Tanner moved away, helping the man at the front desk.

  Colton walked even slower through the aisles, picking up nails and screws, trying not to think about how bored he was without work. By the time he made it up to the front desk, the man Tanner had left to help was there with several supplies.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to get this done,” the man was saying to Tanner. “I don’t have much knowledge in building, but my wife thinks I
do. And my budget tells me we can’t hire anyone right now.” He looked to be in his late 60s or early 70s.

  Stepping forward, Colton asked, “What is it you’re working on?”

  The man turned around and shook his head. “My wife’s been watching those home renovation shows and thinks she needs more character in our living room.”

  “Let me guess…she wants more shiplap?” Colton said with a smile.

  “Do you know what that is?” the man asked.

  When Colton nodded, he continued, “I had to ask her, and she made me watch one of her shows. These new terms. I was an accountant for years, but when it comes to building stuff, I’m lost.”

  “Well, I’m a contractor, and I have some free time. I can come along and help you.”

  “You would do that? I can give you a little bit of money, but I don’t have much more in the budget this month for it.”

  Colton waved him off. It wasn’t like this was a complete remodel, and it might help pass the time until more people were out and about or off work. “Don’t worry about it. You can just think of it as a service for helping this bored guy to stay out of trouble.”

  “I like your way of thinking.” The man grinned, tapping his pointer finger against the side of his head and directing it at Colton. “If you’ll grab the tools, son, we’ll get going. Don’t want to burn too much daylight.”

  Colton picked up the tools on the counter, and Tanner motioned for them to meet around back in the lumber yard. After pulling out several one-by-six pieces of lumber, they loaded them into the man’s well-kept but dated Ford.

  “Hop in, kid. We just live a few streets up.”

  Colton smiled and slid in. He hadn’t been called kid in quite a while. “What was your name, sir?”

  “Gordon McCready. And yours?”

  When Colton told him, he smiled and nodded, maneuvering the truck through the narrow lumber yard and out onto the street. “You’re the one who’s supposed to build a bunch of homes, right?”

  Nodding, Colton chuckled a bit. “Yes, that’s what brought me to your town. Are you for or against the new subdivision going in?”

  Mr. McCready smiled. “Honestly, I’m so old it wouldn’t really matter to me. But there are a lot of us older folks, and if we don’t get some new blood in soon, it will be tough on the younger ones. A bunch of them are already having to cover several things at once, so I’d say I’m for it.”

  A jolt of hope shot through Colton’s chest. He was starting to see that maybe he wasn’t doomed at getting the right signatures. Maybe more people in Sage Creek realized how critical it was for new development.

  As they drove up the road, he thought about the conversation he’d had with Becca that morning. She’d seemed determined to figure out a way to derail the whole thing, but by the time she left him at the hotel, he’d gotten the feeling she was starting to give in to the idea.

  They pulled into the driveway of a small home, the outside a faded sage-green trimmed in white.

  “How long have you lived here?” Colton asked, unbuckling his seat belt.

  “Over forty years, son. It’s still standing after five sons and one daughter, so I think if I can make it through a few more years of my wife’s remodeling ideas, it will have survived just about every phase of our married life.” The man chuckled as he slid out of the truck.

  Walking into the McCready home, Mr. McCready introduced Colton to his wife, and she grinned.

  “Gordon thinks I’m the craziest person ever, but I just love the style of that one gal. Everything she does just turns out gorgeous. I figured a little sprucing up wouldn’t be bad for our little cottage.”

  Colton smiled and nodded, waiting for her to explain her vision. Life was always easier when he listened to what a client wanted first before trying to get things put together.

  Several hours later, Colton stood back to admire the work. It would still need to be painted, but he’d gotten all the wood hung.

  Mrs. McCready brought him in a glass of lemonade, and he was grateful for her kindness. She’d brought him lunch earlier and had given him several compliments throughout the day of work.

  “Oh my goodness! This looks amazing. Now with a little paint, it will just finish off this room.” She clapped her hands together, close to bouncing on her feet.

  “You’ll probably want to caulk the edges before you paint. That way, it’ll give you a smoother finish.” Colton walked forward and pointed to the small gaps.

  “We appreciate all your work, son. Take this.” The man reached out his hand and tried to give Colton some money.

  Taking a step back, Colton raised his hands and shook his head. “Oh, no, no. I can’t take your money. You just saved me a day of boredom in the hotel room, plus lunch.” He looked back at the wall and ran his hand over some of the boards. “This was a lot of fun, too. I haven’t been able to do specialty pieces like this in quite some time. So, thank you.”

  “Are you sure, hun?” Mrs. McCready asked with a serious look. “You did a lot of work here for us today.”

  “No. Like I said, it was good for me. If you need some help with that painting, let me know. I just might have a few more empty boring days ahead of me while I’m here.”

  Mr. McCready slapped him on the back. “Of course, kid. It’s nice when someone else is willing to do the work for me.” The old man grinned while his wife elbowed him in the side, causing him to double over.

  Checking his watch, Colton saw it was near five. He wasn’t sure what he should be doing, but his thoughts went to Becca. He wondered if she’d closed up shop already. With a grin, he said, “Mr. McCready, you should use that money to buy your wife some flowers.”

  Mrs. McCready held on to Colton’s arm. “Oh my! You’re quite the catch. Are you married? Do you have a girlfriend?”

  And with that, he was ready to go. When those questions started popping up, he knew he was destined for a blind date if he didn’t tread carefully. “No, ma’am. I’m not attached, but I’ve really got to get going. Have a great night, and I’ll see you around.”

  Once down the steps, he took a few strides and then jogged, hoping Mrs. McCready wouldn’t chase him down until he gave her all the details of his personal life. He turned south at Main Street and knew where he was. That was another great thing about a small town. He didn’t get all turned around like in Denver.

  Sticking his hands in his pockets, he walked by the flower shop, seeing a light on and several people inside. A sudden anxiety filled him as he realized how much he wanted to see Becca again.

  After pausing for a few seconds of internal debate about whether or not she’d be weirded out that he popped in again, he walked to the front door of the shop and opened it, feeling the air conditioning versus the balmy weather outside. There were at least ten people milling about the front section, some of them sitting on the chairs in the room while others looked into the coolers placed along the wall or stared blankly at their phones.

  Becca came out with two boxes and a small bouquet of white flowers, her face flushed and the hair on the side of her head splaying out like a small halo.

  “Mr. Perkins, here are your two orders. One dozen long-stemmed roses and another of lilies.” She tapped a few keys on the cash register and looked up at him. “Forty-five twenty-one.”

  The man stepped forward with a card stretched out, and Becca took it, swiping it with ease. Once the transaction was done, she scanned the room, her eyes resting on Colton for just a moment. A quick smile graced her features before she searched the room again.

  “Sally, here is your bouquet.”

  After the transaction was over, Colton took several steps forward. “Are you all right? I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many people in a flower shop, even in a big city like Denver.”

  Becca groaned and walked through the swinging door to the back room. Colton thought about it and then followed her in.

  “The truck that was supposed to be here when I opened at eleven was delaye
d, meaning all the orders from today couldn’t be put together until it got here. I’ve been scrambling to get it all done, and my one employee just left to go to some overnight activity for school.”

  Colton stood next to her at the long table, watching her work with the flowers. “Put me to work. Do you have another apron?” He usually wouldn’t mind trimming flowers and doing whatever she needed without it, but he could feel the sawdust clinging to him from a day of working with wood, and he didn’t want to ruin the flowers.

  She pointed to the wall near the door to the front, never taking her eyes away from the several flowers she’d already placed in the large vase.

  He tied the strings around his waist and walked to stand next to her again. “I guess at least the truck made it. Otherwise, you’d have some unhappy customers.”

  Becca squinted, and her jaw moved to one side as she rearranged a couple of the flowers. “That’s actually a good point. I’ve been over here fuming because of the delay, but with all the orders set to go out tonight and the wedding in the morning, it would have been tough to pay the rent this month without them.”

  “I’m sure it would be hard letting the people of this town down. You seem to care about them all a lot.” Colton picked up the scissors and started trimming some of the stems in the piles surrounding the bouquet. At least he could help somewhat, even if he didn’t have an eye for colors. For wood and making a clean cut, he was almost a master. Flowers, not so much.

  She nodded and glanced in his direction, her eyes sad. “I owe them all a lot. They came together to help me when I was at my lowest of lows. Twice, even. There are so many people here who I consider a surrogate parent or grandparent because they’ve always taken an interest in my life. That saying about a village raising a child? I think it applies to adults too.”

  Colton nodded, surprised by the revelation. He knew how hard it must have been to have her parents die, but what would have been her second low? A girl with as much fire and grit as Becca made it hard for him to picture her as having a hard time with anything long term.