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Attraction was one thing, but he’d learned the personal cost it would require when it became a disaster. He already had one potential business disaster, with the mansion’s reputation teetering under the weight of weirdness. He couldn’t risk another failure, especially not one that combined both business and his personal life.
Focus.
He checked his phone as he reached his truck. A reminder glowed on the screen: Pick up the twins from school—2:45 p.m.
He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. Right. His weekend with the nieces. It had been on his calendar for weeks, but he was no more prepared now than when his sister had first asked. He’d have to leave the site early, grab groceries, maybe a pizza or three, and make the house somewhat kid-friendly before the chaos hit. And now he owed Amy a door alarm.
One thing at a time.
He noticed a familiar pickup parked alongside his. A man stood beside it, head tipped down, hands buried deep in his jacket pockets.
“Morning,” Sully called.
Garrett looked up, offering a tentative nod. “Hey. You’re out early.”
“Same to you.” Sully stopped beside him. “What brings you by?”
Garrett shifted his weight, scraping his boot through the gravel. “Wondering if you got any work. Things’ve been slow since I left the crew.”
Sully studied him for a beat. Garrett had jumped ship midweek after the whole “ghost in the cellar” incident. But he was a decent hand and, truth be told, Sully really needed the help. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up with the extended hours and weekends.
“The work is the same as it was before,” Sully said slowly. “Still the mansion job.”
Garrett rubbed the back of his neck. “Heard the ghost hunters are around. Figured there must be something to it after all.”
“I doubt it,” Sully said dryly. “But yeah, Ms. York invited them out.”
“I’d be glad to talk to TV people if they’re interested,” Garrett offered, a hint of excitement edging his tone.
Sully stifled a snort. “That’s between you and them. If you want your job back, I’ll take you on. But if you start chasing ghosts, it’s on your own time, and you clear it with Ms. York before you have anything to do with Mason and his crew. I won’t have anyone ticking off the client.”
Garrett nodded quickly. “Sounds fair. I can start today, right now, if you want.”
Relief loosened the tension in Sully’s chest. Maybe this was the tide turning. If Garrett came back, maybe a few others might follow suit. Mason’s ridiculous TV circus might end up good for something after all.
“Great,” Sully said. “First thing, you remember that door alarm we put in for Mrs. Murphy? The one that sets off lights and bells when her husband tries to wander?”
Garrett grinned faintly. “Hard to forget. Could hear the damn thing down the street, woke the whole house every night for a week.”
“That’s the one. I need another like it for Ms. York’s cottage this morning. The hardware store should have one in stock. I’ll give her a heads-up you’re coming by.”
“Got it.”
“Good.” Sully nodded, tugging open his truck door. Two problems solved before his second cup of coffee. He’d take the win.
As Garrett walked off toward his truck, Sully climbed into his own and sat for a moment, hands resting on the wheel, eyes drawn back toward Amy’s cottage across the field.
Whatever was happening there—whatever this… thing between them was—he’d have to keep it contained. Work first.
The engine coughed to life, and he headed home to shower and change, the sound of the surf fading behind him.
Chapter 19
Amy was halfway through straightening the throw blanket on the sofa when her phone buzzed with a text from Sully:
Garrett’s coming by this morning to install a door alarm. Says he can get it done before lunch.
She stared at the message a moment longer than necessary, thumb grazing the screen. Of course he would handle it immediately. Typical Sully, efficient to a fault in a way that made her both grateful and annoyed.
