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“Sir?”
His cheek ticks up and his gaze steamrolls down my torso. I narrow my eyes on him.
“Can I help you with something?” he asks.
Wouldn’t you like to, I think to myself. I wait until his eyes are back on my face before I say anything. He likes what he sees and that riles me senseless.
“I’m good.”
The wordsI’ll betare so obviously on the tip of his tongue that I can practically see them. I give him anI dare youexpression and he shakes his head, smiling.
“You sure? You look a little lost.”
So they weren’t expecting me. I’m yet to decide if this is good or bad news.
“I’m not lost,” I tell him, lifting my chin a little higher. “I’ve been here many times.”
“Pine Hills is closed until the New Year. It’s under construction.” He taps the side of his large black truck, where the wordsColeson Construction Companyare printed on it in thick orange script.
I groan inwardly. This is the guy heading the reno? My mom spared me the fine print but I know the gist. Coleson Construction has already been here for the past two months, fixing up the plumbing, electrical, and external framework issues, and now the joinery team is going to be here for two more, kitting out each cabin with new flooring and bespoke furniture, handmade on-site here at Pine Hills.
I blink myself back to the here and now.
The laid-back smile on this guy’s face makes my eye twitch, but I’m a professional and I can handle this. I choose to shake off my irritation and outstretch my hand towards him.
“Mitchell Coleson? I’m Harper. Harper Ray.”
He looks down at my outstretched hand and understanding suddenly dawns on his face. So hewasexpecting me. Now he realises that he just softcore-flirted with the keys to his pay packet, and for the second time in the space of two minutes I’m being regarded with the cautiousness of a ticking time-bomb.
He looks at me with newly hardened features. He’s all business now.
“I’m not the man you’re looking for.”
My brow creases in confusion and I drop my hand. “Oh?”
“Mitch already left. He’s been working with the crew and I all summer, but this is his baby now. He’s the joiner, and it’s pretty much interior stuff from here on out. My work here’s done.”
Thank God.
“And you are?” I ask.
He pushes his tongue in his cheek and flashes a look to one of his co-workers. “Jason, his brother. You can call me Jace.”
I won’t be calling you anything.
“So you’re the eyes that they sent up here to keep us in check?” he asks, one big shoulder resting against the side of his truck.
Now that I know that this isn’t the man that I’m looking for I turn away from him and start scanning for my bungalow again. It’s been over a decade since I was last here so it’s hardly a surprise that I can’t quite remember its whereabouts. Pine Hills is heavenly, a series of small wooden cabins set up against a backdrop of lush encroaching forest. There’s a Nature Trail running parallel to the land for visitors who want to explore the woods more deeply, plus a little town up the mountain, a small drive away.
Despite the rolling black clouds the sky behind them is a dusty blue, and the high-climbing trees are startlingly emerald. The temperature is mild and it gives me that early-autumn feeling. I inhale deeply as a wave of nostalgia washes over me.
After a few moments of taking in the landscape my eyes finally land on the bungalow up ahead. It’s a little different to how my teenage brain remembered it. It’s one-level and it’s longer than I recalled, with two doors set near the centre. They are two attached living spaces, which means that technically I could spread my stuff across both of the halves, but I’ve travelled so light that it renders that option unnecessary.
My eyes flicker back to Jason, the construction head who has just finished his stint of demo-recon. That makes sense, considering the fact that the weather will be turning soon and the outdoors work is better executed in dry conditions. If he’s about to leave then there’s no need for him to know where I’m going to be sleeping.
But he seems to understand what’s happening right now, my thoughts unspooling directly into his, and he nods his chin over to a nearby portacabin, saying, “Everything you’ll need is up in the office – keys, blueprints.” He ticks them off on thick tan fingers. “I can show you if you’d like, and you can have the keys for the cub.”
I inconspicuously chew on my bottom lip, disinclined to accept his assistance but also aware that there’s no ‘i’ in ‘team’. Even though my mom allowed me up here to secretly salve my soul after the break-up, on the official books it looks like I’m here to supervise the Pine Hills renovation. If it isn’t me checking that Ray Corp’s plans are being brought to life it’ll be someone else, so I may as well get off on the right foot with the people who are involved.
