Build it Strong (The Ballard Brothers of Darling Bay Book 2)

by Rachael Herron

  She reached for another tile. Aidan kneeled next to her. This was all for the camera, of course—Tuesday didn’t have to do a good job. The Ballard crew would take over and finish when Felicia got the shots of Tuesday she wanted.

  “I’m all wrong for this,” she whispered.

  Aidan didn’t hear her. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Her parents fell in love with each other on their first date. It had always been both embarrassing and a point of pride for Tuesday. They’d gone out with a group to the movies, and had peeled off by themselves by the end of the night. Her father drove her mother home in his car and introduced himself to Margo’s father as the man who would be asking for her hand as soon as he could save for a ring. They were married within three months, and Tuesday had come along ten months later. Ron and Margo still made out on the couch. Tuesday had hated that when she was thirteen. But it was that fact—knowing that her parents were truly happy together—that had allowed Tuesday to leave in search of a new life. If either of them had been unhappy, she might have stayed in Minnesota forever.

  They’d been taking care of her so much this last year. After the accident, it had almost been full-time care for the first two months. It was high time not only for her to start a new life, but to give them an honest-to-God break from worrying about their daughter.

  Her parents.

  Diana and Nicholas.

  People did fall in love at first sight.

  But Tuesday had always known she wouldn’t be one of those people. She was careful. She was thoughtful. She would choose when she fell in love. She wouldn’t trip over it, like she’d tripped over Aidan the last time she’d tried to squeeze around him to get more tiles.

  The room smelled of mortar and chalk. Out in the hallway, the air smelled of dust and plaster and old, newly uncovered dirt.

  Aidan himself? He smelled like a pine forest. She didn’t know if it was his deodorant or his shampoo—she didn’t know if he was the kind of guy who splashed aftershave on his jaw. She only knew this: he smelled like something she wanted to wrap her legs around and climb.

  That had to be the pine scent.

  Right?

  He’d tried conversation with her a couple of times, but she’d frozen up—her tongue felt tied with nervousness ever since she’d overheard him say he was in love with her.

  On camera.

  Who did that?

  “Me, I guess.”

  Startled, she dropped yet another tile with a clatter. “Did I ask that out loud?”

  He smiled, the right side of his rugged mouth tilting upward. “Unless I’m reading your mind, it was out loud.”

  God, imagine if he were reading her mind. Just like that, his clothes disappeared as she looked at him.

  Her face went red hot.

  Aidan said, “At some point we should talk about it.”

  “Talk about what?” Could she keep playing dumb forever? Sign her up. She was willing to give that a good college try.

  “About the fact that I said I was in love with you.”

  Tuesday gave up the pretense of fiddling with the next tile. “Why did you say that?”

  “Because I am.” Aidan had been kneeling, but now he moved to sit with his back against the wall next to the tub.

  “You can’t be.”

  He held out his hand.

  She wouldn’t take it.

  She wouldn’t.

  She would not—yeah, there her hand was. In his. Goddammit.

  Traitorous hand. Did she have even a scrap control over herself at all? If this kept up, she’d be straddling his lap—

  Yeah, it was her whole body that was traitorous.

  She sat on his lap, her right knee on new tile, her left knee on the old wood. “I’ll hurt the tile.”

  “You won’t.”

  “I will.”

  “Then I’ll fix it for you.”

  She sipped a breath of air. “I want the black enamel hardware.”

  Aidan shook his head. “The chrome is better.”

  “My house.” She had to say it. “And I want the black enamel.”

  “But chrome is way better. It’ll last longer. Never goes out of style.”

  “Black enamel.” So far she’d been listening to him on the design choices. But it was her house. Not his.

  “Hmmm.” He looked amused, and it kind of pissed her off.

  Only a little, though. It was hard to stay angry at him while sitting on his lap.

  His eyes weren’t just plain dark blue, she realized. They were deeper, like smoked cobalt. Bright blue cloaked in thick gray. His lips were an inch from hers, and she’d probably end up kissing him if she stayed here, but luckily she was going to die first because there was no way in hell she would remember how to breathe before she could get up and off him.

  “Tuesday, are you okay?”

  It broke the spell, and she sucked air into her lungs. “You can’t be in love with me.”

  “A week ago, I would have agreed with you. Love at first sight doesn’t exist. And then I saw you.”

  She snorted so loudly she bounced a little on his lap.

  He winced. “Ow!”

  “Not my fault.”

  He shifted slightly underneath her hips. “Actually, it is.”

  Warmth raced to her cheeks as she realized what he meant, but she managed, “That’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard anyone say in my life. Then I saw you?”

  He raised and lowered his shoulders, rubbing them against the wall. “Yeah, well. I didn’t see it coming, either.”

  What was Tuesday supposed to say to that? She looked over her shoulder. Yeah, there was Anna and her camera, probably catching every word of it. At least Anna was far enough away she probably wouldn’t be able to hear what they were saying until later, when they were going over the footage, pulling the audio from the mic packs Aidan and Tuesday wore.

  When they played it on TV nationally.

  Lord have mercy. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

  “Let me take you out tonight.”

  “And do what?”

  He arched an eyebrow and ran the back of his hand along the inner part of her arm. “I can think of a couple of things.”

  The heat in her torso grew hotter.

  But she had a point, damn it. “I get it. We’re attracted to each other. This—” she tapped his chest and then hers—“this is just lust. Comes and goes. I’ve felt it a million times before.”

  “A million?” He looked at her in mock horror. “Really?”

  “You know what I mean. Lust is fun. We can have a good time. I’m not a prude.” As the words left her mouth, she realized that only a prude would claim to be not a prude.

  “Oooh, honey.” He kept the stroking motion on her arm. Had the skin of her inner elbow ever been so sexually charged? “I like the sound of that, don’t get me wrong. I, too, have lusted a million times. I’ve got no problem with acting on it, either.”

  No, he didn’t. She knew that much.

  “But I’m just saying, this is more. So much more. I’m in for the long haul.”

  What? Tuesday hadn’t figured out how answer the kid question. That stupid lie—she had to tell him. Soon. She just hadn’t figured it out yet. She was working on it…She scooted backward again. “Long haul?”

  “You go any further back and you’re going to break my kneecaps.”

  She couldn’t do that. He had such sexy kneecaps. She moved to the side and sat on the tile, leaving her legs draped over his. “Long haul,” she repeated. “Can I ask what your plan is?”

  “Sure. It’s easy. I’m just going to hang around until you fall in love with me back.”

  “Just to get a house?”

  He didn’t even blink. “I thought that was why. But I’ve inspected my heart, and that’s not it.”

  “You can do that? Just lift out your heart and look at it?” Could he do that to hers if she asked?

  “Sure. I know how to fix thing
s.”

  “And if I don’t fall in love back?” It was another lie of omission.

  He shrugged. “I’m doomed. Already gone. I’ll just enjoy it as much as possible.”

  That was it? “You make it sound so simple.”

  “I never thought it would be, honestly. I thought the idea of choosing one woman for the rest of my life would be pretty hard.”

  “And it’s not?”

  He shook his head slowly, back and forth. His eyes never left hers. He lifted a thumb and brushed it against her lower lip.

  Tuesday could practically feel her eyes losing focus, her knees softening, her insides heating up again.

  No. She was not going to have sex with this man in an unfinished corner of her new upstairs bathroom. On camera.

  But hell.

  She might complete the fall into love with him in that same corner. On camera.

  Even with eyes wide open, she hadn’t seen that coming at all.

  She stood. “Black enamel hardware.”

  “Chrome is better,” he called as she fled around the cameraman in the hall.

  Chapter 29

  T

  uesday was coming as unhinged as the door to the second bedroom that hadn’t been fixed yet.

  She made her way to the back porch and considered throwing herself down the hill, through the gate, and into the hot spring. But if she did, and he followed, then they’d end up making love again, and she would probably not let him leave her again. She’d have to become a true Californian and do some dryad ritual to make themselves into spring benefactors, and their fairy selves would cling to each other into eternity.

  “Oh!” She pressed her hands to her cheeks in an effort to cool them down, but they felt as hot as her face.

  “Boy trouble?” Felicia was sitting on the swing, her iPad in her lap, her notebook in her hand.

  “I didn’t even see you there.”

  Felicia shut the cover of her notebook. “I was hiding.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

  Sliding the iPad to the swing seat next to her, Felicia said, “No. Please don’t go. Come sit with me. Off the record.”

  With a sigh, Tuesday lowered herself to the swing. “How are you feeling?”

  Felicia looked startled, her eyes wide. “Um.”

  “I overheard you yesterday. I know you’re pregnant.”

  “I guess I’m okay.” She touched her stomach. “I’m just not used to the idea of it yet.”

  “But you’re happy?” Tuesday wanted to take back the words as soon as they left her mouth. “I’m sorry, of course you are. That was so stupid.”

  “No, that’s not stupid. I honestly don’t know. I mean, I’m happy. But I’m way more terrified than I thought I would be.”

  Surprised, Tuesday said, “Really?”

  “Yeah. I know that’s not what people want to hear.”

  “What about Liam?”

  “He’s like me. Equal parts excited and terror.” Felicia leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees. “How does a person take entire, complete responsibility for another person?”

  The faces of Maddee and Maggee flashed into Tuesday’s mind. “I have no idea. Maybe they shouldn’t.”

  It was a huge thought. What if a person shouldn’t take complete responsibility of another person?

  “You don’t think I should have a baby?” Felicia looked startled.

  “God, no! That’s not what I meant. I only meant…Maybe you just have to accept you’ll never be fully responsible for another person.”

  “But isn’t that what a parent is?”

  Tuesday would have thought so, once. “You can’t protect them from everything, right? You can’t stop an earthquake. Or a plane falling from the sky on top of your house.”

  “You are really freaking me out.”

  Oh, no, she hadn’t meant to do that. “I only mean you can’t control everything, so just concentrate on taking care of what you can. I bet you’ll be a wonderful mother.”

  There was a pause. A small airplane whined high above mixed as a basketball was being somewhere down the street. The chain of the porch swing clanked quietly every time it moved forward.

  Felicia pulled her bare feet underneath her. The way she looked at Tuesday—it wasn’t like a person ‘producing’ her. It was more the look of a friend. “Enough about my neuroses. How are you doing, Tuesday? Off camera, like I said.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Ahhh.” Felicia’s smiled stayed in place as her head tipped back. “I remember that feeling.”

  “You do?”

  “I was terrified.”

  “You’d never been here before, either, right?”

  Felicia nodded. “I only came as a scout. I was never supposed to be on the show.”

  “But you fell in love with that treehouse.” It was her parents’ favorite episode—the house with the enormous redwood tree growing up and through a two-story house.

  “I did. And then the guy.”

  “How long—” She couldn’t ask. She wouldn’t.

  “How long did it take to fall in love?”

  Dumbly, Tuesday nodded.

  “I walked into the kitchen at his office and saw the backs of his wrists moving as he slathered peanut butter on about a million sandwiches. I fell in love with him from behind. Before he’d said one word.”

  “See?” Tuesday groaned. “I appreciate what you’re saying, I really do. But hyperbole isn’t helping me here. When did you actually know?”

  “All at once. After I’d lost him. That was the only time I knew I’d been in love with him since the first moment. It was like falling off a bed. You don’t know you’re doing it till you hit the floor.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you can’t really help me on this one.”

  Felicia laughed and patted her flat stomach. “You’re not helping me with this, are you?”

  “Not so much.”

  Chapter 30

  T

  uesday looked down off the porch and saw Ella coming up toward them. Ella waved cheerfully. “Hey!” Today she was dressed in all red: red shirt, red jeans that were too big for her and cuffed multiple times at the ankles, and scuffed red sneakers. Her hair was pulled on top of her head in a red scrunchy. She’d clearly dressed herself.

  Behind them, Aidan banged out of the house and clomped to the top of the steps. “Ella! Best power forward of them all!” They exchanged a high-five secret handshake thing that ended with a sideways hop.

  God, the man was adorable. How was a girl supposed to deal with a man who was built like a lumberjack and who also knew how to hop like a bunny?

  Then he looked at her, and Tuesday forgot she’d left the bathroom to run away from him. Those eyes. They melted her.

  “Hey, check out the bathroom before you leave the site today, okay?”

  “The bathroom I just left?”

  “If by just you mean thirty minutes ago, yeah.”

  Surprised, Tuesday glanced at her phone. It had been half an hour that she’d been sitting with Felicia. She’d forgotten how good it felt to chat with a girlfriend, how fast the time sped by when she was.

  Diana, I miss you so much it hurts.

  In two years, the girls would be Ella’s age.

  In one year, they would have been in her classroom.

  Tuesday’d had to leave. She cleared her throat. “What’s up, Ella? You look like you’re on a mission.”

  Ella nodded firmly. “I am.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mom’s at work, like always, but she told me to come talk to you.”

  Next to Tuesday, Felicia looked at her cell phone and gave a quiet groan. She stood, slipping into her sandals. “Editing snafu. I’ll be back.”

  Tuesday patted the seat of the swing. “Want to sit with me?” She ignored Aidan, still leaning on the porch rail.

  “Yeah, okay.” Ella wound her way up the porch like a cat, slowly a
nd carefully, but with enough assurance that she didn’t look nervous. She sat next to Tuesday and gave the swing a tentative push.

  Aidan was smoldering—she felt her cheeks heating. He smiled. The creases at the corners of his eyes were almost as sexy as the ones at his mouth. Tuesday’s mother had a saying for people like him. He’s growing into his face.

  God, she was growing into his face.

  He’d said something that she’d missed. “What?”

  “I said, I’ve done something in the last thirty minutes.”

  “Hmmm. Why does that make me suspicious?”

  He just smiled at her.

  Was this what Darling Bay was?

  Sitting around outside, neighbors and friends gathering on the porch?

  Because not even Minnesota was that friendly, and Minnesotans were known for their niceness.

  It felt good, this gathering.

  It felt kind of…

  It felt right.

  “Tuesday?” Ella poked her gently in the thigh. “Are you listening?’

  “I’m sorry! I’m spacing out today.” Spacing out, imagining that this could be her place. Right here. “What did you say?”

  Ella’s expression was two parts confidence, one part worry. Her mouth smiled, but her eyes stayed wary. “Mom said to come over and ask if you could show me the geometry thing with the angles. She says this afternoon would be perfect because she’s got to work, and she’s trying not to leave me alone in the house as much. Like, I guess it would be babysitting, but I’m not a baby, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

  Tuesday’s first, immediate urge was to say yes. Obviously. This was a girl who needed tutoring, and something in her face said that she needed more. She needed to matter to someone. Tuesday had known so many kids like that in the past.

  But her second urge thumped the first with a huge, heavy fist. I can’t.

  She couldn’t just say no, not like that. “I want to help you, but oh, this just isn’t a good time. You know.” She waved a hand behind her. “The remodeling.”