Protecting Her Secret Son Page 9

  He parked on the street as close as he could to the house and came around to open her door. “Looks like they’re getting good traffic,” she said.

  They walked into the house, chatted with the realtor, and she started making mental notes on the design choices. Her nerve was tested walking through with Daniel rather than Aiden, especially when she saw one of the bedrooms done with bright colors and bunk beds in a heavy, rustic wood frame. It was exactly what Aiden would be asking for in a year or two.

  Someday, she promised herself. Someday she’d have a house with a big yard in a place Bradley could never touch. She added a security system to the ever-growing wish list in her head.

  Back at the truck, she reached behind the seat for her laptop. “Can you wait here just a second? I want to make a few notes on this one.” If she had to behave normally while her son was being held hostage, she’d make the most of it. That way when he came home, she’d be ready.

  “What kind of notes?” he asked.

  “Mainly notes about materials and style choices. What I liked, what I’d do differently on a shoestring or with an unlimited budget. Usually, I factor in what Aiden likes.” She hit Save on the file, took a steadying breath and closed the laptop. “Usually, I make my notes while he gets the wiggles out running around the nearest park.”

  Daniel didn’t drive away. He just sat there gazing through the windshield at the houses marching down the street in a neat row. “Does your boy like swings as much as trucks?”

  She smiled, thinking of the wild shrieks he made when he wasn’t sure if he was too high or not high enough. “Yes.”

  “Ever jump off midair?”

  “Not yet.” She closed her eyes and wrinkled her nose, knowing the stunt was inevitable. “He’s getting close.”

  “Rite of passage.” Daniel’s mouth tipped up at one corner. “Don’t worry. He’ll nail it.”

  “You’re pretty sure about that for never having met him.”

  “I’ve met you.” He rested an arm on the steering wheel, his blue eyes calm and serious as he studied her. “I’d bet bravery and courage comes through his mother’s side.”

  It was the perfect thing to say and she found great comfort in his words. She knew him as a conscientious boss and had heard more than a few stories about his heroics as a firefighter. She’d never expected to be on the receiving end of his thoughtfulness.

  “Thank you.” Turning the laptop so he could see it, she pulled up the list of open houses and the address of their next stop.

  He started the engine, checked his mirrors. She kept an eye on her phone, wishing for contact, while they chatted about the house they’d walked through and the neighborhood up next.

  “We worked two blocks over last year.” She glanced around, recalling the gridlock commute had been a challenge for her in the afternoons.

  “Yes, we did,” he said. “You came in an hour early most days.”

  She wasn’t sure which startled her more, that he knew or that he remembered such a trivial detail. “How do you know that? You were only there once a week on that job.”

  He slid her sideways look. “I keep track of my projects.” His tone as taut as a bowstring, he continued, “I’m aware of every cost and the personnel involved. That’s how the job gets done right.”

  “Hey.” She held up her hands in surrender. “No offense meant.”

  He blew out a big breath. “Sorry. Guess that’s my problem.” He parked the car, pulled the key from the ignition. “My management skills come under fire with too much regularity.”

  She hopped out of the truck before he rounded the hood this time. Better than being at eye level with him again. “You’re a good manager. Great, actually.” She knew how fortunate she was to be employed by his company.

  “My family is convinced I won’t realize my full potential as a contractor until I commit to it. Go full time. It’s a sore spot.” He brushed her arm with his and changed the subject as they walked up the sidewalk. “I know the team that did this one,” he said under his breath. “I want to see your notes when we’re done.”

  Unsure what to expect, she tried to focus on the design, material and workmanship as they walked all three stories of the newly refurbished row house. She tried to keep her mind on the task and use it as a distraction to push her worries aside, but she couldn’t change the fact that she was a mother. A mother with a missing son and a phone that didn’t ring.

  “Decent finishes,” she said for Daniel’s ears only as they cycled through the master bedroom and en suite bath. “Classic design.” She ran her hand over the elegant quartz countertops that mimicked far more expensive marble.

  “That doesn’t sound like a glowing review to me.”

  She elbowed him. “Save the snarky comments for later.”

  “Yes, dear,” he replied with a nearly imperceptible tilt of his head toward the listing agent in the hallway.

  Ignoring him, she opened the closet and peeked in. The wire shelves and plastic runs of hanging space were arranged in a very basic layout. At this price point, she would have expected something with more flair.

  She waited while another couple cruised through, bubbling with excitement and enthusiasm. “Normal buyers seem impressed,” she murmured, giving the other couple plenty of time to ooh and ah over the next rooms.

  “Don’t know what they’re missing,” Daniel muttered. “You don’t seem impressed at all.”

  “I’m not in the best of moods.” They went down to the kitchen and as the only people in the room, she examined it more closely. She opened a cabinet, tipped her head. “Bet he got these last month when they were on closeout,” she whispered. “All of it just feels a hair off target to me.”

  For some reason, that put a rather tempting smirk on Daniel’s face.

  She waited until they were back in the truck to ask what had gotten into him.

  “I lost the bid on this house,” he said while she made notes and checked her phone. “I might be a little bitter. What kind of notes do you make about a house you don’t like?”

  “What not to do,” she said, as the list she was making grew and grew. “And what I might have done instead.”

  “Really? Can I see?”

  She handed him the laptop, her mind sliding back to Aiden as she made sure her phone was set to sound and vibrate. While working on the Jennings project in this neighborhood last year, she and Rachel had often met at the park on a corner lot at the edge of the neighborhood. All three boys loved the run of beams for climbing and balance and Aiden used them as a highway for trucks to drive and crash.

  “Wow,” Daniel said, gaining her attention. “These changes would have hit the target dead center, upped the asking price and the profit margin.”

  “At first glance, sure,” she agreed. “We don’t know what he found, if he had to adjust finishes due to problems we can’t see.”

  “I walked the place, did a pretty thorough inspection. If he had serious problems, he brought them on himself.” Daniel shook his head, reviewing her list again. “Your skills are wasted on paint and tile.”

  She frowned, focused on the laptop.

  He tapped her shoulder. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No.” She stowed the laptop for the ride to the next open house on their agenda. “I’m happy working wherever Ed puts me.”

  “Well, you’ve got a great head for the business side of construction.” He pulled away from the curb. “And I do know that contractor cut corners, whether or not he found any structural issues. If you’re looking for better work, something steadier, you should consider moving toward project manager. Not with that particular contractor, with someone good.”

  She gave him a long look while he drove through the tidy neighborhoods dotted with trees giving way to rich, fall color and families coming and g
oing, enjoying the crisp Sunday afternoon. A game of street hockey took a time-out as they drove through an intersection. The quarterback of a touch football game on the grass anchoring the next block of row houses was in full throat, calling out the next play. The scent of burgers on the grill drifted through her open window.

  She smiled, taking it all in, as tears burned behind her eyes. It’s what she’d dreamed of, creating family and memories with a warm and loving husband. Reality had given her a jolt, and her family, small as it was, was no less precious. Believe, she thought, while Daniel drove.

  “Shannon? Are you ready to call it a day?”

  “No, I’m fine.” With a deep, calming breath, she dragged herself back to the conversation. “I don’t have any experience managing a project.”

  In all likelihood, she wouldn’t be able to stay here long enough to get any. Jennings Construction was her best chance at advancement, but once she had Aiden home, she would need to run. Her mind drifted toward the escape plan she updated each year, just in case her ex or his way of life caught up to her. She’d planned and still hoped like a fool that she’d never have to use it.

  “It’s okay if you aren’t interested.”

  Good grief, she’d tuned him out, tuned out the world, while she silently practiced the best ways to tell Aiden they were moving. “I zoned out, I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

  “No problem. You have good reason to be distracted,” he said. “This may not be the best time to bring it up. I promise I’m not expecting you to make a decision today.”

  Decision? She swiveled in the seat, looking for a street sign. “Where are we?”

  “We’re in Poplar. Last week, I picked up my next Jennings project for when the Caldwell house is done. I was just saying we could walk through it. If you’re interested and we can come to terms, I’ll let you manage it.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t know what to say. How could life be so cruel as to drop a dream job and a significant promotion into her lap when she couldn’t possibly accept it? She was tempted to tell Daniel what he wanted to hear, but he didn’t deserve that from anyone, especially not someone he was going above and beyond to help.

  Growing more resentful with each minute her phone didn’t light up with word from the kidnappers, she gave it a hard shake. “Why hasn’t he called? I have a great signal.” She gripped the door handle until her knuckles turned white, wishing she could throw the damn device out the window. “No one, no one, knows how to inflict the most pain with the least amount of effort better than my ex-husband.”

  She dropped her head back against the seat, immediately regretting her outburst. “Sorry,” she said, reining in her temper. “Maybe we should call it a day.” Sulking, she didn’t want to walk through his next project, didn’t want to fill her head with ideas when she wouldn’t be around to see them come to life.

  “Come on,” Daniel urged. “It’ll be our last stop. I know there are far more important things on your mind.” He curled his hand around hers as she clutched her phone. “There is no rush on this place. Dad and I bought it for a song from motivated sellers. It could be exactly the job you need once Aiden’s home again.”

  She had to admire his optimism. The house had good bones at first glance from the street. The stately two-story, single-family detached home looked a little down on her luck at the moment. Shannon could certainly relate.

  “We’re here,” he said, clearly enthused about the house.

  She was curious about what features put that spark in his eyes. Since he’d promised she didn’t have to give him an answer today, she pushed open the door. “Might as well show me around.”

  * * *

  Daniel wanted to take a victory lap when Shannon slammed her door of the truck and stomped up the steps to the house. He understood her mood, didn’t blame her a bit. She was holding up better than he’d expected, though he knew it was costing her dearly to pretend things were fine.

  Whenever he got a peek behind her dark sunglasses, he noticed the strain of fighting back the perpetual tears. Here, she wouldn’t have to pretend or fight anything. On this tour, it would only be the two of them walking through a house in need of skilled labor and thoughtful design to shine again.

  Daniel unlocked the door and gave it a shove. “Sticks a little,” he said when he got it open. She stepped inside and he heard the swift intake of breath as her head tipped back, taking in the row of stained glass windows in the high entryway.

  “Pretty cool, right?”

  “Gorgeous.” She turned a full circle. “And so unexpected. Can’t you see this floor polished on a sunny day?”

  “Want to know a secret?” His heart skipped when she looked at him, delight shining in her eyes. “It’s why I insisted Jennings take it on.”

  As he showed her around and listened to her spitball ideas for each space, he knew she was definitely the right person to oversee this project from demo to reconstruction. This house was more than a remodel for the sake of profit, it was a borderline restoration. That was the hook that had landed his dad.

  It wouldn’t be easy, but he’d find a valid reason to put off the start date on this one until he knew she’d take on the manager role. Though he trusted Ed with his life as well as his houses, this one was special. Something he wasn’t quite ready to put a label on made him want to share it with Shannon.

  On the upper floors, her brainstorm continued. It was wonderful to hear her vision matched his in both design and layout. After reading her notes on the open houses, he knew she had the organizational chops to handle this kind of challenge, despite her lack of official experience. As a company, they were missing out on a major asset by keeping her on tile and paint.

  He wouldn’t press her now, he’d promised not to. It was evident from the drive over that she wasn’t hearing half of what he said today anyway. He’d hold his tongue, let her do all the talking, and once she had her son back, he’d lay out an offer he hoped she wouldn’t refuse.

  Back on the main floor, she restarted her assessment from the stairwell, her gaze roving as she rambled about how people would actually use the house. He knew that, like him, she saw more than the faded, peeling wallpaper, scuffed floors and neglected crown molding.

  She laid a hand on the wall blocking the kitchen and dining room and peered up to the ceiling. “Loadbearing?”

  “Yes.” Thank goodness his dad wasn’t ready to dive in here. So far, Daniel couldn’t make up his mind about opening up the space with an expensive beam or keeping walls in place and hoping it launched a new trend. Boxy-charm? Could work. If they came up with a better phrase for marketing the listing.

  “You could go with columns if you wanted to save some money. Added benefit of making the job easier and faster to market,” she said, moving back into the kitchen.

  “Would you, as a buyer, like the columns or the, ah, boxy character of walls? Restored walls, of course.”

  “We’ve already established I’m not your typical buyer,” she said absently. She stood in the center of the kitchen, shaking her head. “All of this needs reconfiguring for modern flow. Especially if you don’t take out any walls.”

  “Open concept or old character?” he pressed.

  She met his gaze once more. “Lovely as it is, however you handle it, this place would be out of my price point. I make a habit of not dreaming quite this big.”

  The declaration irritated him. She had as much right as the next guy to lay claim to the American dream. “Why not?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Aren’t dreams supposed to be big?”

  Her eyebrows snapped together over her nose and he wasn’t sure if she was glaring at him, the awkward kitchen layout or the idea of a big dream. He opened his mouth to ask when she spoke over him.

  “Who’s your market?”

  “With good schools near
by, the plan is to target families looking to upgrade from starter homes.”

  “Smart. You’ll need finishes that won’t intimidate on the maintenance side.”

  “Good point.” He hadn’t thought of that. Being in construction and working with a wealth of experts on any facet of a home, maintenance didn’t intimidate him as it did others. “You’re avoiding my question,” he said.

  “I am,” she admitted. “If you push me, I’ll cry and I’m really tired of crying.”

  How the hell could he argue with that? “All right.” He hooked his thumbs into his back pockets. “I can see the wheels turning. What do you see in here?”

  In a strange and sudden flash, listening to Shannon’s ideas for better kitchen workflow and open concept, he saw her here. Her tow-headed son perched on a stool at the island she was describing, one hand on a truck—a fire truck—the other holding a cookie. He could see her smiling in that relaxed way she had with the crew over lunch breaks.

  More shocking, he could see himself walking in after a firehouse shift and being blessed by that same wide and warm smile.

  He leaned against the cased opening that might one day be a column and let the images and possibilities roll through him. It happened on occasion as he made choices about a house. Seeing the finished project was part of the job. His dad had taught him that. Seeing with this kind of a specific vision? Well, that was new.

  He followed her out to the backyard while he debated if that was good or bad. Her mind intrigued him and she had excellent ideas here, too, adding landscape, carving out a small garden area or a quiet oasis in the middle of the city. “Private green space.”

  “Exactly,” she said, enthused. “It’ll be time and labor intensive, but the upgrade should appeal and pay off. Think of the neighborhood block party they could hold here.”

  Yeah, he could see it all too well. “I’ll make a note,” he said, holding the door for her to go back in. He locked the rear door, checked the windows on the first level and then locked up the front door.

  “Again, you could go the path of least resistance with the master suite,” she said as they walked to his truck. “It depends on...” Her voice trailed off, her feet stopped moving and her eyes glazed over.