All My Heart (The Clover Series)

by Stewart, Danielle

  It looks like my mama was right. Sometimes a man just needs that small kernel of faith and forgiveness even when he might not deserve it. Something about it means more when they don’t see it coming.

  Chapter Four

  Devin

  I’m glad my relationship with Rebecca was never a business transaction. If it had been I wouldn’t have made a penny. I’ve been shocked and blindsided every step of the way since I first walked back into Clover and found her tending bar. I haven’t been able to get one step ahead. I haven’t been able to guess what’s coming next. She just keeps surprising me, challenging me, making me question everything I thought to be true in my life.

  We’re all settled into the house now, spread out on the two couches and a chair from the kitchen table.

  “How did you do all this, Rebecca?” I ask, taking in all the little details of the house.

  “Some of it was here,” she says, shrugging it off.

  “Don’t be modest, Rebecca,” Jordan chimes in. “All of this was tucked away in the barn and the garage. She’s gotten this place cleaned, fully stocked, and looking like home. It’s about ten times the size of my apartment in New York and already looks more welcoming. Thank you again for making a room for me here. It will be easier to function if we’re all in the same place. I’m guessing the sale of your company went well and everything is still on track here?”

  I can feel Click, Jordan, and Rebecca all biting their lips and holding their breath. Being out of communication with me for the last eight days had to have been nerve-wracking for all of them, each for their own reason.

  “The sale went through fine and the new leadership of the company have agreed to leave me on as the liaison for this project. They aren’t sending many assets, only what was agreed upon in the original deal. You know how it goes, if we get this off the ground they’ll swoop in here and get behind the deal as if it were their idea. If we don’t, they’ll say I forced it on them and they knew all along it wouldn’t work.”

  Even though no one is speaking, I can feel relief fill the room. I started all this and everyone needs to know I’ll be here to finish it. Jordan brings me up to speed. “Well, we’re waiting for Nick. He called this morning and said he had an important update.” She sinks into the couch and crosses her legs. It’s so comical to see the transformation that’s begun to take place in her. Gone are the designer clothes, replaced by some tattered jeans and an oversized Marine Corps T-shirt I’m sure I can figure out who really owns. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail with loose strands falling around her face. Even her posture has settled into something comfortable.

  “He’s here now,” Click says as he peers out the window. “Let’s hope it’s good news.”

  “We all have such a good track record, I wouldn’t take that bet.” Luke’s smug humor is a familiar language to me and I realize how much I appreciate having him here. I wouldn’t want to be here without him. Which sounds very mushy I know. Don’t get me wrong, next time the opportunity arises I will certainly give him shit about how long his hair is getting or how that girl at the club dumped her drink in his lap three weeks ago. That’s who we are. It’s how we communicate.

  Nick knocks lightly on the door and Rebecca scurries over, Adeline on her hip. She really has made this place feel like more than just some abandoned house I bought in a hurry. I don’t know why I’m so introspective today, so in touch with who these people are and what they mean to me. It’s out of character and, honestly, it’s frustrating, but I can’t help myself. I see Rebecca, smiling in the doorway to welcome company into this place, and I hope she can work that same magic on me, on my heart. Can she take that empty place in me and turn it into somewhere she can stay, a place she can live? I shake the thoughts from my head, reading Nick’s expression and already knowing his news is bad.

  He pulls off his hat, tucks it under his arm, leans in, and kisses Rebecca’s cheek, then Adeline’s. I watch as the little angel hugs his neck and slips from her arms to his.

  “Hey there little birdie,” he says as he tosses her, squealing, into the air and catches her.

  “Where are da boys?” she asks, looking disappointed.

  “They are with their mommy today. I’m just here for work. But if you have your crayons you could draw them a picture and I’ll take it back to them.” The consummate daddy, knowing how to distract the child so the adults can talk business, all while making her think it’s a fun project. I wonder if that’s one of the skills you just wake up with the morning after you have your first child or if it’s something you have to practice to perfect.

  Adeline scurries to the kitchen and I hear a waterfall of crayons hitting the table.

  Nick walks solemnly into the living room to join the rest of the group. He tips his head at Jordan. “I feel like I’m always the bearer of bad news here.”

  “At least you’re consistent,” Luke says as he extends his hand to Nick.

  “I know you have your security team fanned out trying to monitor the land and make sure Hoyle doesn’t dump any more chemicals out there, but I think we need to switch gears. The work going on at the mill has some problems. This morning there were two accidents. Cliff Wollins’s ladder gave out while he was working on the electrical system and the doc thinks his foot is fractured. Then the brakes on one of the forklifts went out and it crashed into a large lumber pile. The operator, Skip Lincoln, has a concussion. But it could have been much worse. I went down there this morning when I heard about Cliff. We go way back, me and him. I think it’s sabotage. Looks like things may have been tampered with on the site.”

  “I know Skip; he was one of my customers at the coffee shop. He came in every morning for years. He has two little girls at home. Is he going to be all right?” Rebecca asks, tossing her dish towel over her shoulder.

  “They’re keeping him overnight for observation right now. He’s a tough guy; I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  “He might be the only one who comes out of this fine,” Jordan says, the rigid posture returning to her back as she shoots to a standing position. “The construction company is considered a subcontractor, an extension of my company. That means their accidents are my accidents. I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of a recordable injury rate before? It’s public information and if it gets too high we can lose opportunities to even bid on jobs let alone win them. As a company we normally don’t average more than five injuries a quarter, and here we’re talking about two separate instances in one day? That’s unacceptable. We need to get security to the site now and double-check all the employees to make sure it’s not one of them with an ulterior motive. Otherwise this whole thing is going to fall apart and my company will pull out.” Jordan’s pitch is one laced with anxiety. She’s spiraling for a minute and I can see Click take a few steps closer to her.

  “That’s what Hoyle wants,” I say, trying to keep my voice level and non-combative. If the circumstances were different I’d be throwing my weight around, telling Jordan to get her emotions in check.

  “This is a nightmare,” she says as she turns toward Click, looking like she wants to fall into his arms, but she hesitates. “Can you take care of this?” The question isn’t one from boss to subordinate. It’s from a woman to the man she needs to reassure her.

  Click flips open a small notebook to give everyone an update. “I just got a report this morning from the security team that’s fanned out on all the land we’ll need. They’ve come across seven trailers, all the same model, tucked away on very secluded acreage, clearly something someone is trying to hide. The trailers have been under surveillance, but at this point they have nothing conclusive. There is some activity, a few trucks coming and going. I’ve instructed security to plot the coordinates on the map but not to approach. I wanted to talk to you first, Nick.”

  “Could be what Collin was implying, the something bigger going on,” Nick speculates. “Could be drugs—making them, or distributing them. Or it could be as simple as some squatters. I�
��ll take it to my boss and see if it’s something the Marshals can investigate while you secure the job site. I hear what you’re saying, Jordan, but more than the corporate implications, there are folks who need the work and are getting hurt.”

  Jordan’s face tightens in frustration. “I wasn’t implying it was more important, I was just letting you all know the damage it could cause if it progresses. If the deal goes under no one has a job. Not even me.”

  Luke lets out a sarcastic cough, “How would you like being the PR guy? This was supposed to be a homerun, now I’m going to be facing folks wondering why we don’t have a culture of safety on our jobsites. It’s not going to be an easy spin. It’s not really what I signed on for.”

  “I’m surprised you even came back,” Jordan snaps.

  The room is silent and I can feel the tension filling it like a balloon, pushing us apart, consuming all the free space. Her comment was directed at Luke, but I take it as a direct hit myself. I’m the one who left and dragged Luke with me.

  “We are going to fail,” Click says, drawing confused looks from everyone in the room. Since I met Click he’s been an optimist, a motivator. If anyone were going to make a statement like that, I wouldn’t think it would be him.

  “If we keep this up, we are going to fail. This is a mission, and if there is anything I know, it’s how these things either work or don’t. I haven’t known you all for very long, but I judge people on their actions and their character. I trust everyone in this room. But if you want to be successful, we do this together. We do this as a unit, or we don’t do it at all. I walked away from my family and flew halfway across the world to go fight a war. I survived because the people I fought next to became my family. Now, short of Nick here, I don’t see any kin banging down your door. You’re all in need of people you can count on when shit goes bad. So decide if you’re willing to look out for the guy next to you and believe he’s doing the same for you.” Click’s face is oddly stoic and more commanding than I am accustomed to seeing. I think he reads us all pretty well. He can tell I’m accustomed to being the boss and he handles me accordingly, but in this moment he’s all business and sounding very in charge.

  He turns directly toward me as he continues. “That means no leaving without a word, without the rest of us knowing what your next step is. It means finding a solution instead of trying to figure out who has the hardest job here. The only thing that is going to keep us ahead of Hoyle and his men is the fact we have loyalty to each other, because at some point that’s what this is going to come down to. Will his men stand with him when push comes to shove? Will we stand together when the same happens to us?”

  Heads are hanging in embarrassment, and then nodding in agreement. It reminds me why Luke hired Click to guard me in the first place. He’s a unique combination of intelligence and effectiveness. And he’s right; we have work to do and it won’t get done if we’re squabbling with each other, if we’re leaving, if we’re fighting.

  “Well said, Click.” Rebecca smiles. “I could use some people in my corner right now. I think the only way we’ll get rid of Hoyle and get Clover back to its glory is if we do it together. I’m in.”

  “Me too,” Nick says, nodding his agreement. Luke and Jordan look begrudgingly at each other and, with rolls of the eyes, they agree, practically in unison. They are more alike than they realize I think. They both take their jobs very seriously and have sacrificed some of their personal lives in order to get ahead. If they can find a way to move in the same direction on this project, they could be unstoppable.

  Suddenly, every eye in the room is on me. I’m the guy who left them; I’m the guy who started all this shit but doesn’t seem stable enough to finish it. I’ve never put out vibes of needing anyone else, probably the exact opposite. Maybe that’s why I can’t manage any words—I can’t muster even a “yep.” Instead, I nod my agreement, a subtle almost imperceptible movement of my head that seems enough for everyone, at least for now.

  “I’m done,” Adeline’s voice sings as she comes barreling into the living room with a picture in her hand.

  “It’s beautiful,” Nick praises as he squats down in front of her and looks over the drawing intently. I need to take notes from this guy if I ever plan on having Adeline and any other kids in my life. “I’ll take it home to the boys. I’ve got to get going now.” He pats her shoulder and places his hat back on his head as he moves toward the door. “I’ll get you an answer on those trailers, Click.” He’s out the door and the rumble of his truck is the only noise filling the living room now. No one has much to say. No one seems sure where to start.

  I watch Adeline reading the room, the discomfort, and the awkward air. “Are you pwaying the quiet game?” she asks with a scrunched-up nose and furrowed brows.

  “Yes, honey,” Rebecca says over everyone’s grumbling laughter.

  “Click, can we pway tea pawty again? You can wear the tiara.” The room erupts in laughter as Click’s face burns with embarrassment.

  “I have a really nice necklace that would match your eyes, Click. Or should we call you something else, like Miss Teddykins?” Jordan jokes and the laughter grows a little louder.

  Click shrugs his shoulder and scoops Adeline up into his arms. “One quick tea party. Let’s go, kiddo, I’ll get those cookies you like.” I watch as he passes Rebecca, who is still trying to compose herself.

  “You asked us to be like family,” I hear her say and I smile. This is an odd mix of people. Maybe we never would have given each other a second look under different circumstances, but we’re here now and we have to stick together.

  “I’m not normally a jealous guy,” I say as I watch Click and Adeline storm up the stairs. “But I’ve got to say, not getting invited to the tea party stings.”

  “You’re all she’s talked about since we got back. Click’s just the flavor of the week,” Rebecca jokes as she runs her long nails across my shoulder. God I’ve missed her. I’ve missed them both.

  Chapter Five

  Jordan

  Click is standing over a map of Clover, marked up with different points representing the trailers that had been found as well as other suspicious areas. He’s caught up in his own mind. He’s doing that thing he does when he’s trying to think of his next move, when he’s plotting. I can see him evaluating the situation and weighing risk versus reward. I like watching his mind work. He gets quiet for a moment and I feel like he’s flipping through all his years of experience, listening to what his gut is telling him in order to come to the best answer possible.

  I’d love to climb in there and see how it works. Actually I’d settle for just climbing into bed with him. It’s not like me to get lost in lusty fantasies when I should be working, but that’s what happens when you’re holed up with a guy like Click for days on end. I’m forced to watch him work out in the morning. There’s no equipment here so he improvises, lifting jugs of laundry detergent like weights, doing sit-ups, then an unimaginable number of push-ups. Breaking a sweat . . . a hot, sexy sweat. All I can think about is his stamina. The man has so much stamina. Damn, I’m doing it again.

  When he kissed me that day in the car, I felt something come over me. I can only describe it as a need. I didn’t care that we were in the front seat of a car. I didn’t care that traffic was passing us, watching us. I just needed him.

  I thought when we moved into this place something would happen. Rebecca made spots for everyone and asked if I wanted to share a room with Click. She was polite enough to ask me when we were alone, telling me she’d do whatever I was comfortable with. Normally, I would have saved face, told her I’d like the privacy of my own room, maybe even taken the insulted route of expressing vehemently that I was not that kind of girl. But my lower regions seemed to take over my brain. I was going to share the room with Click and with that I thought would come all sorts of hot, sweaty, mind-blowing sex. But so far nothing has happened.

  At first he looked shocked when he walked into the room Rebec
ca had set up for us, his duffle bags in hand, his toes frozen on the imaginary line that was the doorway. “Are you sure?” he asked timidly.

  I could have come back with something seductive here, a wry smile and sultry turn of phrase.

  Instead I panicked and shrugged as if it was no big deal. “There are only four bedrooms. If Devin and Luke come back we’ll need the space,” I told him, and in that moment laid the groundwork for the next few days of miserable celibacy and very distracting fantasies. Click, the southern gentleman, took my answer very literally. He saw my levelheaded approach to maximizing square footage as anything but an invitation. His makeshift bed on the floor was a shock. I didn’t have the words to talk him out of it. I’m not that girl. Or, historically, I haven’t been. I don’t make the first move. I may be assertive in my work life, but in bed I am the opposite. The problem is, Click is too much of a gentleman to make it either.

  My patience, however, is running out. It’s been three nights of this junior high sleepover crap and I can’t take it anymore. After his speech downstairs we all scattered and got to work. We lined up what we needed to, made our phone calls, and started acting the way he’d described, like we actually cared about this thing succeeding. He was right; it was what we needed. While the words had inspired the group, the tone had done something completely different to me. It had turned me on in a way I haven’t felt before. The rally cry, the pep talk—it all made me want to rip his clothes off and run my hands over the rigid muscles of his huge shoulders, down his chest, across those damn abs. Here I go again. I’m staring at him intensely, to the point that if he looked up he’d probably be nervous.