by Jen Peters
Brandt nodded. “You’ve grown quite a bit.”
Dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Plenty of room for you to come back, son.”
Brandt shrugged and followed his father around the office being introduced to agents and a new office manager, listening in on discussions about clients and contractors. He wandered in the lobby area, examined a scale model of a new subdivision, and watched a 3-D home tour on a big screen television.
They’d done a nice job on the video, but he remembered showing new homes to clients and their trouble envisioning living in a house from just the pictures. What would have been nice was…
“Hey, Dad?”
His father finished a conversation and ambled over. “What’s up?”
Brandt tipped his head toward the television. “The visual tour is great, but it doesn’t give a client the feel of the home. What it’s like to actually walk though it. And you know how tedious it gets for them, going to house after house after house.”
“And?”
“Well, what if you could set this up using virtual reality? Set aside a room for them to put on headsets and actually walk around the houses they’re considering?”
Dad’s face scrunched a bit. “VR? Wouldn’t that be complicated to do for every listing?”
“Just the new construction.” Brandt perched on the back of a couch. “What if you had someone set up VR for each floor plan, with different modules for different options. People would be able to know what fits them the best, and I’ll bet you could upsell a lot if they could “stand” inside a home with everything on their wish list.”
Dad looked at the TV, then back at Brandt. “Vaughn will love this! See, that’s why we need you back here. We need your fresh ideas.”
Brandt sighed. “Look, Dad, Vaughn is here and doing great. And he’s tired of still taking a back seat to me. He’s very successful, and he loves it, and you need to reward him.”
Dad shook his head. “He’s never been an ‘outside of the box’ thinker like you. No, we need both of you. Can’t you give up on this pipe dream and come back where you belong?”
Brandt shoved his hands in his pockets. He watched the people coming in and out of the office, the agents on the phone, the ones carefully packing briefcases to meet with clients. He looked at the model of his father’s new project, and thought of the too-manicured park and the rank odor of traffic fumes from his morning run.
“Nope. You’ll have to get along without me. And you’ll do great. Vaughn will be a millionaire in no time.”
His father huffed. “He already is, several times over. He can afford the worthwhile things in life.”
Brandt thought of the wine, the fine food, the comfortable home. And then his own small home, the majestic mountains outside his door, the friends that were fast becoming family. He shrugged. “Maybe we have different ideas of what’s worthwhile.”
Chapter 16
Raine parked in the Coopers’ driveway and turned the engine off. She didn’t get out, though, just stared at the front of the house and wondered how this would go.
She knew that Robin was close to starting her animal shelter. She knew that her old friend had a good start on the funding from Mitchell Blake and some other investors, but needed more for ongoing expenses. She knew Robin had a puppy calendar in the works as part of her fundraising. And she knew she had never apologized for the role she had played in Robin’s humiliation.
What she didn’t know was if Robin would even open the door to her.
Raine clenched the steering wheel and imagined just driving off again. Did she really need to stick her neck out? After all, it had happened years ago. She could just let it go.
Except she couldn’t. Tori’s words came back to her: show them she’d changed by how she lived her life. Now that she’d realized just how much her actions had hurt Robin, that included Raine sticking her neck out and eating some humble pie.
She took a deep breath, smoothed her hair down, and made her way toward the front porch.
The door jerked open before she got there. Ree, not Robin, blocked her way with crossed arms. “You’re not welcome here.”
Raine froze. The slight softening evidently hadn’t stretched to even the beginning of forgiveness. She pulled strength from somewhere deep inside and took another step. “I can’t apologize to her from across town.”
Ree tossed her long black curls across her shoulder but didn’t move.
“Let her in,” came Robin’s soft voice from inside.
Hope crept into Raine’s heart, but Ree was still blocking her way. Raine squeezed past the over-protective young woman and into the living room, where Robin was cuddling a soft lapdog with too much hair to see its eyes. A slender greyhound lay by her feet.
Robin looked at her but didn’t say anything.
“Look, Robin,” Raine began. The smidge of hope shriveled with nervousness, and staring down at her old friend made it doubly awkward. “Can I sit down?”
Robin motioned her to the empty end of the couch.
“Look,” Raine repeated, wondering if she knew any other way to start a conversation. “I know nothing I say can make up for what I did to you. But I want you to know I regret it all, especially how it destroyed what should have been your best year of high school.”
Robin nodded, but remained silent.
“I, um, I’ve made a lot of bad decisions in the last few years, some of them worse than that, believe it or not.” Raine laughed nervously. “But I’ve changed. I’m trying to change. And I’m sorry.”
“She’s not just an item on a 12-step checklist!” Ree muttered from her chair.
Raine turned to her. “I know. And I have no checklist. And I’m apologizing to you too, for everything I did to ruin our friendship. And I know we probably can’t have that back—“
“Ya think?” Ree snapped.
“—but we’re all in the same town, and it would be nice to at least be able to say hi to you.” Raine finished.
Robin’s attention was all on the dog in her lap. She scratched it behind the ears and under the jaw, and pulled it up into her arms. Ree just looked between the two of them.
Raine waited a few moments, then stood. “I’d better be going. Thanks for letting me in.” She made her way to the door.
“Lorraine?” came Robin’s voice.
Raine stilled, her hand on the knob. “Yes?”
“Thank you.”
That was all, but it was something. “Bye.” Raine blinked back tears and walked to her car.
* * *
Brandt and Javi piled tools in the back of his truck and headed up to the trails. After yesterday with his family, Brandt had forced himself to spend the morning on the computer. Hours of staring at it, willing it to do what he wanted, left him eager to do some digging and cutting. And to be able to see some results for his efforts.
Javi led the way to where their last stopping point. They planned to get three more berms laid out with an obstacle or two, but as they started up the hill Brandt kept noticing sections where an easy, flowy trail could be laid. Something Raine could ride.
He shook his head. It was unbelievable the way she’d gotten under his skin. He reminded himself that she was too smooth, too polished, too sassy. Not to mention that she wanted to steal the event money from him. Hmm…stealing might be too harsh a word, but he did not need to be making a trail just for her, especially when he needed to get as much done for the experienced riders as he could.
But he liked sassy.
Besides, a lot of the new club members would use an easy trail, and many of them might stay with cross-country rides, with no desire for the downhill excitement. He could also run clinics for the beginners. Get them started, help them practice on simple obstacles. Yeah, it would be worth doing.
He muttered under his breath and veered downslope to examine a deer trail that ran relatively horizontally.
“You talking to me?” Javi asked, turning around. “Where are you going?”
“Just checking out some other possibilities.” Brandt pointed along the line he was considering. “What about a beginner trail along here?”
“Beginners?” Javi shook his head, not an easy feat with a mattock on one shoulder and clippers on the other. “I thought we were focusing on trails for next year’s event. And you know, we can’t keep calling it ‘next year’s event.’ It needs a name!”
“I know, I know. But this—I was thinking that there’s no place for beginners to ride up here.”
Javi shrugged. “Right now, you either bike or you don’t. And you’ve always said we need to focus on the ones who do.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Brandt pivoted around his shovel and started back up.
He looked up to find Javi’s brown eyes studying him.
“You got somebody in particular in mind for this trail?” Javi said. “Somebody you might have had a public make-out session with last week?”
“No, not at all,” Brandt said quickly. “Just thinking ahead. It would be good for business.”
“Right,” Javi answered. “You keep telling yourself that.”
They followed the new trail up another ten minutes until they reached the pile of branches they had cleared last time. They decided on a line to take—a fairly tight turn, down a cluster of roots, and between two trees.
Javi took the clippers and opened up the space, while Brandt dug the bank for the berm. He imagined riding the line, knowing it would be a little challenging but not too much. He wondered if Raine could possibly be serious about biking, and how long it would take her until she could ride this trail if she were. Then again, maybe she would never get on a bike again.
He hoped otherwise. Despite her city-girl image and her physical resemblance to the girls he’d dated in Portland, he had to admit he was drawn to her. She didn’t take any guff, and she wasn’t afraid to get dirty. Take her spunk and add in a little craziness—nobody in their right mind would go down Devil’s Hill with absolutely no experience—and you got one unpredictable and beautiful woman. Someone worth getting to know.
On the other hand, she didn’t get him at all. Sure, a new trail system and an annual event would benefit him and his shop. But she hadn’t been around the town for a long time. She didn’t know how they were pulling together to make a comeback. She didn’t know how much any out-of-towners would help, no matter if they came for some prissy Christmas party or some down-and-dirty biking.
She’d sure gotten under his skin, though.
He looked at the curve he’d built, nodded in satisfaction, and began tamping the dirt in. One small section done.
Javi came back while Brandt was clearing debris away from the root section. They would be some fantastic, twisty bumps if the riders didn’t get out of their saddles on the way down.
“Looks good, bro,” Javi said. “Ready for the next section?”
Brandt nodded, stretching his back out.
“I was thinking,” Javi continued.
“Thinking? You? Amazing!”
Javi shouldered him. “Pruébala alguna vez.”
“What?”
“‘Try it sometime,’” Javi translated, grinning. “Something my uncle used to tell me frequently, especially about thinking. Anyway, we’ve got, what, two more miles of trail to do? And then another one?”
Brandt looked through the forest. “Yup. And this’ll be covered in muck pretty soon. We’ve been lucky with a dry fall so far.”
“Yeah, so tell me again why you haven’t gotten the others together for a big work session?”
Brandt huffed as he hiked, more than he needed to, but it kept him from having to answer right away. Why were they doing it without the others? Shauna had wanted to help more, and Mitch and Justin.
Because he kept too much to himself, he realized. He was too independent, too driven to succeed on his own and not be beholden to anyone. Because that could lead to being pushed into something he didn’t want to do. Thanks a lot, parents.
He stopped and pulled out his phone. One bar of service wasn’t much, but it let him check the weather.
“Hey, Javi—you working tomorrow?”
“Nope, off all weekend. But let me check my social calendar.” Javi laughed. “Nope, no dates. I can come.”
Brandt bumped him. “And why don’t you have any dates? There are plenty of girls around.”
Javi shrugged. “Espero la unica.”
“Come on, English, man.”
“No hablo ingles.”
Brandt shoved him again. “Weather looks good for Saturday. Let me see if Rudy can take the shop in the afternoon. If he can, let’s get as many people out here as possible.” He pocketed his phone and started up the hill again.
Chapter 17
Brandt dropped Javi off and headed home, dirty and sweaty and tired, but also feeling good. They’d made a lot of good progress. Rudy was available on Saturday, and things would move forward quickly tomorrow. He hoped.
He stopped in the driveway and eased out of the pickup. A familiar shape was walking up the sidewalk.
“Hey, Raine, I didn’t know you lived around here.”
She scowled. “A few blocks over. Sometimes I walk around the neighborhood if I don’t have time to go hiking.”
“Still at Tori’s?”
“Why? You think it’s dumb to keep living with my cousin? She converted her office into a bedroom for me, and I help her out with Tyler on the mornings I’m not working.”
Brandt took a mental step back. Raine obviously wasn’t a happy camper today—time for him to move on to a safe subject. “How are the cuts?” he asked.
She looked at her arm as if she hadn’t checked it for a while. “They’re fine.”
“Just fine? No gushing thanks for an award-winning bandaging job? Or even an ice pack wrapped in a polka-dot towel?” He’d get a smile out of her one way or another.
She touched her face lightly, and he could see when the thought of the pink polka dots touched her. But the corner of her mouth turned down again.
“I turned in my application for the tourism grant yesterday.” She looked up at him and her eyes were not sparkling with fun. “It’s not fair that you know all the committee members personally. Not only that, but some of them are actively involved with your project. I’d say that’s a strong case of bias.”
Brandt had seen the stubborn side of her when she rode Devil’s Hill, the soft side as she handed out Halloween candy, the determined side as she faced old “friends.” Now he got to see her belligerent side. He crossed his arms and stared her down. “So I’ve made friends since I got here. Sue me.”
She gasped and stepped closer to him, green eyes flashing with anger. “You don’t rule here. I’ve got every bit as much right to put on an event to help the town as you do. More even, because mine isn’t selfishly helping my own business.”
His hackles rose to meet hers, and they squared off as if to fight. “My rally and my business, Ms. DiMarco, are things that will bring people up here. People who will spend money in other places, too.” He couldn’t look away from those eyes of hers—intense, emotional, darkening to storm level with every moment.
She drew up nose to nose with him. Or rather, nose to chin. “They’ll come for burgers, maybe. Mountain bikers aren’t going to buy clothes or knick knacks or come back to stay a weekend at the Inn.”
He could feel her breath as she looked up at him, and his pulse raced. He didn’t know if he wanted to turn her over his knee or kiss her. He really ought to just walk away. “On the contrary. It’s not a cheap sport, and the serious athletes tend to have money to spend on what they want. And since you don’t like having people make assumptions about you, don’t make them about other people.”
She took a step back, her mouth opening, but nothing coming out.
Brandt sighed. “Look, I don’t know how it was when you were growing up, but I’ve learned that people in this town pull together, not go to battle with each other. So rebuild
your old friendships, start new ones, whatever you like, but don’t go knocking other people’s businesses. Besides—”
Raine huffed and interrupted. “There are a lot more businesses here than yours.” She babbled on with curt comments and suggestions of what he should do with his business.
He knew he should just walk away, but he found himself reaching up to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. “Raine,” he murmured.
The words stopped, and her body softened. The anger in her eyes changed to confusion. Her shoulders slumped, and then she took a step toward him and leaned her forehead against his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her, felt her shuddering breaths.
“What are we doing?” she whispered. “Why can’t I stay angry with you?”
He smoothed her hair. “I don’t want you to be mad at me. And I think there’s something deeper here that we didn’t expect.”
She shook her head against him. “Someone’s going to get hurt. You can’t mix money and relationships.”
He tilted her chin up and kissed her lightly. “We can try. We’ll just have to work hard. Maybe we could actually help each other.”
She didn’t answer. He held her for a long moment before she pulled away. “It’s never going to work. I have to go. And you need a shower.”
“See, commenting on personal hygiene means we’re in a relationship already,” he joked.
Raine finally laughed. “Except that your personal hygiene is a community health hazard, so I’m just giving a Public Service Announcement.” She gave him a finger-wiggle of a wave and walked off.
Brandt swore that woman was going to drive him crazy. Beautiful and sassy, yes, but man, could she be stubborn! Public Service Announcement and all. Then he took a good whiff of himself, wrinkled his nose, and headed straight for the shower.
Hot water pounded over his tired muscles, washing the grime away and leaving him pondering a possible relationship. Had he been right, and it was time to quit fighting what he—they—felt? Was there enough connection between them besides desire? Or was she right, and anything they were starting would be demolished by becoming winner and loser?
