Page 13 of Restored By You

“So,” Callie says softly

I groan quietly. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

She lifts her mug, hides her grin behind it, and delivers it anyway, sweet as pie. “I was just going to say, that was an awful lot of blushing over a consult.”

Tyler pops in one earbud, glances between us, and sighs like he’s seen too much. “Gross,” he announces, and seals his second ear.

Oh, dear stepbrother, one day you’ll understand.

Five.

Rhett

I’ve driven past this place my entire adult life, saw it being built nearly thirty years ago, partied with friends on the second-floor when it was just a construction zone. I even tried my hand at skiing here once they opened their doors, and nearly broke my foot. I’ve attended weddings here and even a yoga class if you’d believe it.

But Winton’s Ski Resort & Mountain Spa looks a hell of a lot different from the inside of a boardroom.

I’m standing in the third-floor conference room with rolled blueprints under one arm and coffee in my hand. It feels less like home turf and more like a final exam I didn’t study for.

“Gentlemen.” Jenn Paul, the resort’s general manager, sets both palms flat on the table. She’s got the kind of handshake that announces itself before it arrives and a haircut that costs more than my truck payment. “We’re glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Levi says beside me, already leaning back in his chair like he owns the room.

I set my coffee down and unroll the blueprints. “We pulled the existing floor plans for the top level and sketched out two possible configurations for the presidential conversion.” I smooth the corners flat and turn them toward Jenn, her two managers flanking her. “Currently you’ve got three large suites up there. What we’re proposing takes the two end units and expands them outward, absorbing the middle suite entirely.”

Jenn leans forward, studying the plans. “Square footage?”

“Each presidential comes in just under twenty-two hundred square feet,” I say. “Private entry foyer, separate living and dining, wet bar, master with a spa bath, and a secondary room that could function as an office or second bedroom depending on guest needs.”

One of the managers—young, eager, probably fresh out of some hospitality program—raises a hand. “What’s the timeline look like?”

“We’re estimating sixteen weeks for full completion,” Levi says smoothly, sliding into his easy, client-friendly mode. “Demo starts as soon as permits clear, and we’ll phase the build to minimize disruption to the floors below.”

Jenn nods slowly, still studying the blueprints. “And both owners are committed to being hands-on for the duration of this project?”

The question lands in the room and I feel Levi go very still beside me. “Absolutely,” I say without hesitation. It’s not only the right answer—it’s the only answer.

Landing this job wasn’t easy. My brother and I have built a damn solid reputation over the years, but when it came to this gig? The promise of owners being the main leads on the project sealed the deal. Discretion, timeliness, care, and tact—to a place like this, all of that matters just as much as the finished project.

And we’ve already heard whispers of more work coming our way if this goes smoothly.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I don’t reach for it.

“The millwork alone on a project this size—” I continue.

A second, then third vibration, and Levi’s mouth twitches.

“—is going to require our full attention. Which is why we want to get eyes on the space today, if that works for your team. Walk the floor, take measurements, get a real feel for what we’re working with before we finalize the bid.”

The general manager seems satisfied with that. She straightens, extending her hand across the table. “I think we’re going to work well together, gentlemen.”

We shake hands around the table, exchange cards, and agree to reconvene on the top floor in twenty minutes for the walkthrough.

The second the managers file out ahead of us, Levi turns to me with a smirk. “You gonna check that?”