Hawthorne Harbor Box Set
Page 63
“This is Wilson,” Trent said, and he yipped at the dog before it came trotting forward to greet Lauren.
Wilson sniffed and she crouched down to give the dog a healthy pat around his jowls and ears. “Oh, you’re just a big softie, aren’t you? I bet your dad lets you sleep on the bed and everything.” She grinned up at Trent, stunned again by his good looks.
So maybe she’d been glad she hadn’t run into him in three years, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try again. Did it? He was single, she knew that. Not really into dating, from what she’d heard.
But she wasn’t in the gossip circles much and could only rely on what she heard from Gillian. And Gillian had a long-time boyfriend and didn’t know as much as she used to. Other than her, Lauren spent all of her time with men, and they certainly didn’t know the last time Trent had gone out with someone.
One by one, each dog came over and got some love from Lauren, and she caught Trent looking at her with a strange glint in his eye. She couldn’t interpret it before she cleared her throat and got back to business.
“So, tell me about this deck.” She turned to survey the open area at the back of the house. “How big are you thinking?” She pulled her tape measure from her tool belt and flicked it out.
She was the best general contractor in town, but she didn’t work nearly as much as some of the other companies. She didn’t want to think it was because of her gender, but she couldn't think of any other reason.
Trent detailed the kind of paradise he wanted, and Lauren could see it come to life in her mind.
She used her tablet and the expensive construction software she’d bought to draw up some quick plans as he took the dogs inside to get them a fresh bowl of water.
Twenty minutes later, Lauren felt confident she could tap “generate” and her tablet would give her a timeline as well as a quote for this dreamy man she really wanted to work with.
She didn’t need to ask him out today if she could land this job. And the truth was, she needed another big project once she finished the wing up at Magleby Mansion.
“So where are we at?” he asked, coming down the steps and exhaling heavily. “My son will be done at school soon, and I have to go pick him up.”
Lauren’s chest squeezed on the word son, but she didn’t let it show. “I can email this to you.” She raised her eyebrows in a silent question.
He joined her at her side, the scent of his skin hitting her like a heavenly punch of cologne and sweat. She kept the swoon under control, but his voice rumbled through her when he said, “I have time. Let me see it.” He peered at her tablet, and Lauren reminded herself to get the job done.
“Okay.” She cleared her throat, wishing he didn’t make her so nervous. Maybe if she’d gone out with anyone whose name she could remember in the past three years, her heart wouldn’t be hammering quite so hard right now.
She detailed the project, the hawthorn wood she’d use to mirror the trees, the swing, the benches, the place for the permanent umbrella to be secured so the bay winds wouldn’t disrupt his back yard barbeques.
“And what does this cost?” he asked, taking a step back. “It’s beautiful. Exactly what I want. I just….” He gave a chuckle that sounded nervous. “I’m on a budget.”
“Of course,” Lauren said. “We can do three payments. One-third up front. One in the middle. And one at the end once you’re one-hundred-percent satisfied with my work.”
Their eyes met, and Lauren wasn’t sure if she was hallucinating or not, but she felt a quick spark of attraction between them. Fine, it was more like a lightning bolt.
Could he feel it too?
The seconds stretched, and she finally shook herself out of the depths of his eyes. “Here’s the price and timeline.” She tapped the button and the drawings changed to the quote. She handed him the tablet and stepped back. “I have to finish my great-aunt’s place first, so I’m not available until probably the end of October.”
And then she had the Festival of Trees after that. She opened her mouth to say she couldn’t start until the new year when Trent said, “This looks great,” and handed back her tablet. “You’re hired.”
Happiness flowed through Lauren, and not just because she’d gotten another job to keep her in business for another few months. She’d learned to take things day by day, month by month. Doing that, she’d kept Michaels Construction in business for six years.
“Is your great-aunt Mabel Magleby?”
“That’s right.” Lauren tapped a few more buttons and added, “I’ll get this printed. Do you want to stop by my place to sign it? Or I can bring it over here at your convenience.” She was so professional, and while she might want to take Trent to lunch, she also wanted him to recommend her to all of his friends who might need something done, whether it be a bathroom remodel or a new addition to their house.
“I can come to you.” He smiled, and honestly, such an action on such a handsome face should be illegal.
“Great.” Lauren stood there, though she had no reason to stay for another second. And Trent needed to go get his son, but he didn’t move either. Perhaps the lightning had struck him too.
“What’s Mabel doing up there?” he asked.
“A complete renovation of the west wing,” Lauren said, seizing onto an opportunity and hoping she didn’t mess it up. “She’s having a big party for the reopening. You should come.” She added a smile to her face, thinking her invitation could be interpreted as friendly. Like, Hey, the whole town is invited, so you should come.
She started for the corner of the house and the fence, but he said, “Lauren?”
Lauren turned back to him. “Yeah?”
“Have we met before?” He tilted his head, those eyes harboring so much intelligence.
Lauren wanted to deny it, but she also really wanted a second chance with him. So she let herself emit a light laugh—not a giggle. A businesswoman such as herself did not giggle—and toss her ponytail over her shoulder.
“I asked you out once,” she said with a quick one-shoulder shrug. “I didn’t think you remembered that.”
Trent looked like she’d thrown a glass of ice water in his face. “I don’t remember that. When was it?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Three or four years ago.”
Something dark crossed his face, and Lauren took it as her cue to leave. “It was no big deal.” She rounded the corner and had her hand on the latch when he practically yelled her name.
He came around the corner, almost colliding with her. She blinked at him, all the shadows gone from his eyes. She really hoped her invitation to dinner four years ago wouldn’t jeopardize this deck now. She not only needed the job, she really wanted to work on this specific project.
“I’d like to take you up on your offer,” he said. “That is, if you don’t have a boyfriend.” He reached up and rubbed his hand up the back of his neck in the most adorable way.
Lauren’s face burst into a smile. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Trent grinned too. “Great. So I’ll stop by and sign those papers and we’ll chat then. I really am late to get my son.”
“I’ll be at the Mansion most of the day tomorrow, if you want to stop by up there.” Lauren didn’t usually feel so shy—as evidenced by her bold move to ask out the new bachelor in town all those years ago—but somehow, in this small patch of lawn, with Trent, she did.
“I’ll see if I can get up there,” he said. “I’m on duty tomorrow.”
Lauren nodded and got her slightly shaky legs to get her off his property and back to her office before she blew her second chance with the deliciously handsome Trent Baker.
Chapter Three
Trent sat in the parent pick-up line, his heart thumping in some strange way it hadn’t in so long, he couldn’t even identify what kind of beat it was.
But he knew it had everything to do with the beautiful Lauren Michaels. Had she really asked him out before? How could he have forgotten a woman like her?
r /> He’d almost texted his sister to find out if she remembered Lauren, but he didn’t need her asking questions. And Eliza would. She was as keen as their mother, and the last thing Trent needed was either one of them asking about his love life.
When he’d picked up Porter on Friday night, Eliza had asked, “So?” and all Trent had been able to do was shake his head. He’d tell her about Kathy’s boyfriend eventually, but Trent didn’t need to relive the humiliation right now.
The back door of the SUV opened, and Trent put on his daddy smile. “Hey, bud, how was school?”
Porter climbed into the backseat, his backpack huge and getting stuck on the top of the doorframe. He yanked on it and finally settled in the middle of the bench seat.
“Joey brought a lizard,” he said, his voice high and full of excitement. “And Miss Terry chose three people to hold it, and I got to!”
“That’s great, bud.” Trent eased the truck out of the line and into the drive-through lane. “What was the lizard’s name?”
“Chicken.”
Trent scoffed. “What?” He glanced in the rear-view mirror and met Porter’s eyes. At least they were his and not Savannah’s. No, Trent saw her in the shape of his son’s face, the roundness of his nose, and the way everything seemed to be made of magic. Including, apparently, lizards named Chicken.
“Yeah, Chicken,” Porter said.
“Put your seatbelt on, bud.” Trent stopped at the sign before pulling out of the school driveway and waited for his son to click his buckle.
“I guess lizards are born from eggs,” Porter said. “And Joey thought that it would be a chicken, so he named it Chicken even after it was hatched.”
“Okay, then.” Trent turned toward Main Street, wondering if it was too early to grab dinner. Then he wouldn’t have to leave the house again that night. He wondered when he’d become an old soul, as a thirty-seven-year-old shouldn’t want to eat dinner at three-thirty in the afternoon.
“Are you hungry, Porty?”
“No, it was Baylor’s birthday, and his mom brought doughnuts.” He just looked out the window, but Trent felt like someone had stabbed a toothpick into his heart.
He hadn’t been able to take a treat into Porter’s class last year, because he’d been on duty. This year, he’d already put in for a vacation day in March, so he could be Mister Mom and take cupcakes to Porter’s classmates.
“Maybe we could grab sandwiches and take the canines to the beach.”
“Will you teach me that word for find?” Porter asked.
“Yeah. You can work on it with Tornado. He’s still trying to learn it.”
“Wilson always takes over.”
“Yeah, well, Wilson is the pack leader.” Trent turned down Main Street. “Pick a place, and we’ll stop and get something and go.”
Trent took the dogs everywhere with him. Sometimes he leashed one or two and made them work among pedestrians. Wilson and Pecorino had performed brilliantly at the Lavender Festival a few months ago, and then Trent had paired Wilson with Brutus for the Fall Festival.
Tornado was still a bit excitable, but he’d done really well with Lauren. That’s because Lauren has calm energy, Trent thought. As he’d been working with his police dogs—and taking training courses from the K9 Unit in Seattle—he’d learned a lot about a person’s energy.
And Tornado hadn’t whined once with Lauren, so she definitely possessed an energy that spoke to Tornado’s.
“Pizza,” Porter said as Trent drove by The Slice. Simple things like that used to frustrate him, but now he just flipped around and parked across the street. If his son wanted pizza, they’d get pizza.
Trent held his son’s hand as they crossed the street—properly, in the crosswalk. He didn’t need anything getting back to his boss that he wasn’t a law-abiding citizen when he wasn’t on duty.
They joined the line for family night pizza, and by the time they had their two boxes and were ready to head to the beach, the sun was already sinking fast. Trent sighed. He really disliked winter, and it seemed like the season was nearly upon them.
As he set the pizza boxes on the seat on the passenger side and then turned to move around the front of his truck, his eyes caught a flyer taped to the lamppost.
“Magleby Mansion grand unveiling,” he read aloud. He pulled down the paper and searched for the date. It was next weekend, and he heard Lauren’s voice saying, “You should come. You should come.”
Surely she didn’t mean as her date, but when Trent thought about those few charged moments in his back yard, his thoughts turned muddy.
He folded the flyer and put it in his back pocket before he got behind the wheel. He’d simply ask her tomorrow when he went to sign the work contract.
The beach brought relief to his soul in a way that nothing else could. Savannah had loved the sound of the surf, the feel of sand against her bare feet, and watching the sun sink into the waves.
Trent had tolerated the beach while she’d been alive, but now he treasured his time there, especially when he went with Porter. He felt closer to her there than anywhere else, and he often told his son stories about her while they ate or threw a Frisbee for the dogs.
Tonight, Trent felt weary though he hadn’t even put on his uniform and gone into work. He sighed as he sank onto the blanket he kept in the back of the truck.
“Wait,” he told the dogs, who quivered with anticipation of running out into the waves. Several other canines ran around the sand, but Trent’s dogs couldn’t go until he released them. And they better come back as soon as he whistled.
Wilson sat, which helped Pecorino and Brutus to do the same. “Tornado,” Trent said as if he didn’t care at all if the dog sat or not. But he did, and Trent said, “Yep.”
All four dogs sprinted toward the ocean, with Tornado barking every other step. Trent shook his head and laughed as they met the water and sent splashes several feet into the air.
“Your mom used to make the best chocolate mint brownies,” he said to Porter as the boy opened the lid on the first pizza box. “And we never came to the beach without them, even though I used to tease her that they’d melt.”
Porter picked up a piece of pizza and paused before he took a bite. “Do you know how to make the brownies?”
“I have her recipes, yeah.” But Trent hadn’t made any of them. He made boxed macaroni and cheese, or spaghetti, or hamburgers and hot dogs. Savannah used to make delicious pasta casseroles and the best soups and stews on the planet. But Trent hadn’t been able to bring himself to pull out her binder and look at her handwriting as she made adjustments to the measurements or left herself notes for what to do next time she made the dish.
Because it was too painful of a reminder that there would be no next time.
“We should make them,” Porter said. “Maybe for Aunt Eliza’s birthday.”
“Yeah.” Trent ate and kept watch over the dogs while the sun sank. When they had just enough time to get back to the truck before it was too dark to see, he packed up and took his son home.
* * *
The next day, Trent showed up to work to find Adam Herrin in a less-than-joyful mood. “What’s up with him?” Trent asked out of the side of his mouth. Sarah, Adam’s personal secretary, glared at the Police Chief’s door. “Oh, someone called and asked about the security plan for the Festival of Trees, and you know how the Chief feels about that.”
Trent did know, and he also understood Adam’s frustration. “The Fall Festival ended ten days ago.”
“That’s exactly what Adam said.” Sarah gave Trent’s hand a pat. “How’s Porter?”
“He’s doing great.” Trent started to move over to his desk, hoping he didn’t have any paperwork to deal with from his day off.
“Didn’t you have a date over the weekend?” Sarah asked, and Trent cringed. He’d enlisted almost everyone around him to help him find a girlfriend, and while it had sounded like a good idea at the time, now Trent was really regretting it.
> “Yeah, it isn’t going to work out.”
“I have a neighbor—”
“I think I’m going to try it on my own for a while.” Trent gave Sarah a smile he hoped would soften his words. He wasn’t sure if he was saying he’d find his own dates or if he’d just like to stop dating for a while.
Until Lauren Michaels had shown up at his house yesterday afternoon, Trent would’ve chosen never going out again. But she had him reconsidering his decision.
Thankfully, he only had a couple of reports on his desk, and he flew through them before heading outside to work with his German shepherds.
As he set up a new “bomb” for Tornado to find, Chief Herrin came through the gate. “You got a minute, Trent?” he asked.
“Sure thing, Chief.” Trent paused in his prep.
“I’d like you to run point on the Festival of Trees security,” Adam said without looking away from Trent. “How do you feel about that?”
Pride swelled in Trent’s chest. “Sure thing.”
“I need a report by the end of the week.” He finally glanced around the dog training arena. “I know it’ll take you from this more than you’d like. But with Janey pregnant, I’m not sure I can handle another event right now.”
“Janey’s pregnant?” Trent rarely knew any town news, and he grinned at his boss and good friend. “That’s good news, right?”
“It is, yeah.” Adam smiled back. “But she’s high-risk, and I’m trying to juggle things at home, and with Jess….” He blew out his breath. “I can’t take on the Festival of Trees.”
“I’ve worked it for three years, boss. I can do it.” Trent really wanted to do a good job, not just for Adam, but to feel like he was doing something good with his life.
He’d never struggled before Savannah passed away, but now he felt like he really needed to make something of his life. The problem was, he didn’t know how, and often simply reverted to keeping Porter fed and bathed, his yard and garden in tip-top shape, and tried to get his dogs to find trace amounts of explosives in pull toys.