Broken Ground: (Broken Series Book 1) (7 page)

Her obvious interest made me keep going. "It was a talent born of necessity, really. I broke something of Gran's when I was barely thirteen, something really important that her husband had given her. I couldn't fix it, which I hated, so I took the pieces and made it into something else. That way it wasn't really gone. Just different. After that, I discovered that I liked building things out of old broken pieces. Been doing it ever since."

"I'd love to see your artwork in person sometime. Do you plan to do any special pieces for the house you're building here?" She sounded excited at the prospect. For some reason, it pleased me that she was interested in my work. I'd never cared what people thought before but, as I was discovering, Ali was different. I wanted to share things with her because she was so willing to share with me. Well, I'd share some things, but certainly not everything.

Some things weren't meant to be said out loud. To speak of them gave them substance and made them real.

Did I plan to do a piece for Gran's build? I'd already started on something, but I wasn't sure it would ever leave my shop. "I'm not sure yet. Still brainstorming ideas." I felt like an asshole as soon as the lie left my lips. "Gran hasn't asked for anything particular so anything I made would be my own concept. Trust me, if she wanted something made, she'd have told me by now. That woman is not afraid to speak up." I smiled at the truth of that statement.

Ali laughed. "She sounds like a lot of fun." I glanced over at her, sarcastically raising one brow until she continued. "Seriously, any little old lady that can make you and Spencer shake in your work boots is worth knowing."

"You'll see for yourself at some point." I smiled at the thought. She had no idea what she was in for with Gran.

After our meals had been eaten and our coffee cups were empty, we decided to put in a few hours at the property.

Ali worked at the lake and I worked in the old barn at the back of the property, trying to turn it into a suitable workshop to house my personal projects, just in case I should decide to bring them here.

Neither of us infringed on the other while we worked — artistic courtesy — and just as the sun was on its downward arc below the mountaintops, Ali emerged from the lake path with her supplies neatly gathered beneath her arm, her canvas and easel casually held in her other hand as if she did this all the time.

I rushed forward to help her load her things and stood by her Jeep while she situated herself behind the wheel.

It was a little surprising when she invited me to have dinner with her and Talia, whom I'd never met, but I was so enamored with her that I gave an immediate and resounding 'yes'.

Anything to stay close to her.

THE DAY JUST
kept getting better and better.

I was introduced to Talia, who was in full-on chef mode when we arrived. She wiped her hands on her floral apron and gave me a mega-watt smile that was genuine and welcoming. Ali laughed at her and muttered to me that her friend loved feeding people, so my attendance was a happy surprise.

Talia was a few inches taller than Ali, with long blond hair and whiskey-brown eyes. She had a dancer's body, willowy and flawless. Everything about her screamed model, not chef.

And, while her beauty was obvious to me, I didn't feel the first stirring of attraction. It was kind of jarring to look at a woman that stunning and not get a twinge of arousal. For a split second, I wondered if my dick had lapsed into a coma.

A moment later Ali giggled at something Talia said, and I had my answer.

Her singsong voice sent a jolt straight to my cock.

Nope. All systems 'go'. As long as it was Ali.

I had to force myself to focus on where I was and not what I was feeling. Soon I was swept away in the conversation and the food. Talia prepared an amazing meal. I could see why she had a restaurant. She told me that she had tried to incorporate some of her dishes at the diner, but the locals didn't seem to take well to change. With the exception of her desserts, they loved those.

Watching Ali and Talia interact was interesting. They acted more like family than best friends. From what I gleaned during the conversation over dinner, Talia had sworn off dating for the foreseeable future.

And so had Ali.

When Talia joked about me being the only man to grace their tiny Denson apartment in all these weeks, I quirked a brow at her statement.

She wryly assured me that she and Ali were just friends. They weren't switching teams, just taking a much needed break from the game. Ali chuckled and agreed with the analogy. Neither of them looked the least bit worse off for not having a man in their lives, either.

While I was watching
them
, Talia watched
me
. She was subtle about it, but I caught her on more than one occasion. It didn't feel like attraction, or even suspicion was her motivation. She just seemed to be studying me, especially when Ali and I were talking. It would have been unnerving if she wasn't such a pleasant person otherwise. She laughed and joked, seemingly comfortable with my presence.

When they asked about my background, I gave my standard answer, letting it roll off my tongue the way I'd done countless times before. "I grew up in a small town halfway between Fredericksburg and Richmond. No siblings. Met Spencer when I was ten and became fast friends. We attended college together; I was on the swim team, and he was on the Dean's list, which is a fitting analogy for the two of us. I like anything that gets my blood pumping — running, swimming, whatever — and he's all business; planning, studying, networking. That combination worked out well for us in the long run. After graduation, Spencer and I started CBD with our friend Brant and have been working to the exclusion of nearly everything else ever since. Brant and I are always on site working up a sweat and Spencer is behind the scenes keeping it all together."

They asked a few more questions, and I answered as vaguely as possible until they seemed to realize just how much I hated to talk about myself and switched topics.

After that, we talked about inconsequential things and drank wine late into the evening. By the time I was ready to leave, even Talia felt like an old friend. It was nice, so much so that the girls insisted that we repeat the gathering every Sunday. I wholeheartedly accepted the invitation.

And so it went for the next couple of weeks.

Working at the property on Saturdays while Ali painted became the highlight of my week; dinner with her and Talia on Sundays running a close second. The food, the conversation, and especially the company were all spectacular.

Ali handled the job site beautifully in my absence on those rare days I needed to go back to Richmond for meetings. She juggled the schedule like a pro and made sure the contractors had all their materials, and everyone was happy. Much to Spencer's relief, she also took quickly to his anal-retentive way of handling all the bookkeeping associated with a build of this size. With Spencer tied up doing all the administrative work for Brant's build in Charleston and handling the office in Richmond, she was a godsend. He never would have been able to keep all that shit coordinated on his own.

For her part, Ali couldn't be happier. She swore she enjoyed the work she was doing for us. It wasn't hard work, not for her, but it was busy work and that was something to be valued when you were stuck in a one-horse town like Denson. It made the days go by so much faster.

Construction of the house had begun. The foundation had been poured, encasing the basement structure. Soon framing would start. I was excited to be making progress but checking each item off the list just reminded me that my time with Ali was limited. I dreaded the day we finished the house.

The irony was not lost on me.

I'd started out my time in Denson counting the days until the job was done so I could get the hell out of there, now the idea of leaving brought with it a profound sadness.

BY THE FIRST
week of June, the heat had set in to stay. Up until that point, the mountain air would cool things down in the evening but that luxury was over. For the most part, Ali seemed to take the soaring temperatures in stride. She claimed that she was used to it, having grown up in the south. It amazed me that she didn't even seem to perspire. Once in a while there was a thin sheen on her neck or the exposed portion of her chest but that was it. I'd wondered on several occasions what it would take to get her drenched with sweat.

I had several scenarios on my list.

Despite my mounting attraction, our friendship had taken the forefront. Which was why I knew something was wrong the moment I laid eyes on her that Friday afternoon.

I'd taken a conference call at the cabin that morning, getting to the property after lunch. The crews were hard at work, nail guns popping, drills and saws whirring, the sound ricocheting rhythmically. Making my way to the back of the partially framed structure, I spotted Ali in the distance. She had her back to the house, arms folded over her chest as if she were cold, which was not her normal posture. She never appeared as closed off as she did at that moment, and I found it odd.

When she heard my approach on the gravel, she turned. Something was definitely off. She gave me a thin smile, starting in my direction. "I didn't expect you so soon. How did the conference call go?"

"Fine. Boring as usual." I waited for her to reach me. "Everything alright here?" If someone had given her trouble... My fists clenched at the thought. I'd hate to kick someone off the site, but for her I would.

She looked over at the house, crewmen busily working in various areas. "The guys are doing a great job. Everyone is progressing on schedule, and there haven't been any issues." Her expression told me her mind was a hundred miles from this place.

With the noise reaching a crescendo, I gave up hope of having a conversation at our current position. I leaned over and spoke close to her ear, making sure she could hear me. "Let's take a walk. I want to check the pier again."

The breeze picked up, and her hair brushed against my cheek. Her scent invaded my senses, hints of peach and vanilla making me pull back to stave off the urge to bury my face in her dark locks. When I looked down, there were goosebumps on her exposed arms. We both were affected, it seemed.

Rather than wait for her to respond, I started off toward the path. I couldn't hear her steps over the construction noise, but I could feel her there behind me. I always seemed hyper-aware of her presence. We reached the lake and, finally able to hear myself think, I turned to her. "So, what's going on? And don't tell me nothing because I can see it on your face." Though my words were gruff, my voice was soft. Whatever was going on, I was worried about her. Her ever-present smile was something I'd come to depend on these last few weeks, and I didn't like it being gone.

She didn't answer right away. If Spencer had hesitated like that, I'd have handed him his ass, but she was different. Her pause wasn't for dramatic effect, it was something else. I couldn't let it drop, whatever it was. "Is it the diner? Or Lauren? She giving you shit again?"

I'd learned not long after meeting Ali that Lauren, one of the waitresses at the diner, was Teach's niece. She also went to college with Ali and Talia and had some sort of grudge against Ali that no one knew the source of. She worked fine with Talia but lived to make Ali miserable. It was made all the worse when I'd run to the diner to pick up lunch one afternoon, and Lauren had all but thrown herself at me. She'd studied me with her icy blue eyes like she was tracking prey. Her glossy black hair had brushed my shoulder when she leaned close to tell me what time she got off, her tone insinuating that she'd like me to get her off shortly afterward. I politely refused her attempts and was rewarded with a scornful look that morphed into something akin to rage when Ali had come in and sidled up next to me at the counter. Needless to say, Lauren wasn't a fan of either of us.

Ali sighed and walked over to the willow, taking a seat and leaning against the damaged trunk. "Lauren is always a problem, I'm almost used to it. And the only trouble I ever have at the diner
is
Lauren. She's getting bolder lately, breaking things and purposely screwing up orders, as usual, but now she's doing little shit to make me look incompetent. Messing with the register so that my books will be off, not actually stealing, just making it look like the money is coming up short. Things like that. She's not a real threat, though, she's just a pest. I wish she would realize that Teach had a reason for not asking her to run the diner and whatever it was, it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with her."