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He had. Many years ago.
But he’d stopped going because the therapist’s only answer was drugs. Conor had seen what Mom’s medicine had done to her. He’d rather suffer the occasional attack than live every day like a zombie. When the doctor kept trying to push the prescriptions at him, Conor stopped going.
“A home-cooked dinner by a real chef sounds great. Just text me when the two of you pick a night and I’ll be there. I can bring the wine,” Luca offered.
“Perfect,” Harper said. “As soon as I get back to the hotel, I’m going to run through my favorite recipes, figure out something delicious to make us.”
“As long as it’s not Quarter Pounders with Cheese,” Conor said in a deadpan voice, “I’ll be happy with whatever you cook.”
He was pleased when his comment made both Harper and Luca laugh, even though he’d only been half joking. For someone who was a classically trained chef, Harper seemed to have an undiscerning taste in food. Although, when he considered she probably hadn’t gotten to indulge in those foods he considered kids’ fare when she was younger, it made sense she’d want to try it all now.
“Well,” Luca said, gesturing toward the front door. “Should we see what the damage is?”
While the glass had blown out of the large windows, the front door hadn’t sustained any serious damage, the lock still functioning. Luca ripped down the caution tape stretched across the doorway, then unlocked and opened the door. They were all immediately assaulted by the overpowering smell of smoke.
“I have some guys showing up soon to set up large fans to combat that smell, air the place out. We’re going to take down the boards in the windows and open the place up for a few hours this afternoon,” Luca explained.
“Sounds good.” Harper stepped inside behind Luca, Conor following. The room was dim, thanks to the boards, the only light provided from the open front door.
“Here.” Luca raised his hand, and Conor spotted the crowbar that he hadn’t even noticed before. “I might as well do this now, so we can get some light in here.” He used the crowbar to pry the board away from one of the windows, and Conor took the opportunity to admire Luca’s muscular arms. He was wearing a plain navy-blue T-shirt, his tattoos visible beneath the sleeves.
Conor had never considered himself a tattoo kind of guy, his past male lovers more like him—professional businessmen. There hadn’t been a single blue-collar bad boy, a regret Conor hadn’t realized he even had until Luca reappeared in his life, and he let himself wonder just how far those tattoos stretched. Were they only on his arms, or did they continue on his chest, his back, and, God help him, his thighs?
Conor forced himself to look away, but a quick glance at Harper proved she’d just been giving Luca the same scrutiny. She looked his way, then gave him an unapologetic grin and a wink that told him he’d caught her, and she did not care.
He huffed out a soft laugh, wishing he had her confidence.
Once the boards were removed, Luca tossed the crowbar down on top of the large sheets of plywood. “There. That’s better.”
Slowly, the three of them made their way around the space. The smoke damage was significant, but Conor realized Luca hadn’t exaggerated when he’d said there was precious little to burn.
“We’ll obviously have to replace a lot of the beams that were fine pre-fire,” Luca explained. “And I’m going to be starting from scratch on the electrical rather than adding to the existing. The ceiling and flooring are going to have to be completely replaced rather than us working with what was here, but that’s not dire because we’d already planned to do that in the dining area.”
They continued walking, passing through the part of the building that would serve as the dining room into what was going to be Harper’s large kitchen. “This was where the fire started, so as you can see, the damage here is bad. We’re lucky the structural damage was limited, but cleaning all this up is going to set us back on the original timeline.”
“How far back?” Harper asked.
Luca shrugged. “Best-case scenario? If we can get all the materials we need now, that we previously didn’t need, two to three weeks. Worst case…a month or more.”
“Ugh,” Harper groaned.
“Yeah,” Luca said. “We’re going to do everything we can to keep as close to the original plan, but?—”
“We understand, Luca,” Harper said, placing her hand on his forearm. “Obviously, none of us anticipated some squatter would accidentally set a fire with a space heater.”
“Once we get the cleanup from the fire done and work begins again, I think we should put some security measures in place to make sure no one else breaks in,” Conor added.
“Agreed,” Luca said.
Conor had already given it some thought. “I have a company I use with my other businesses. I’ll reach out and get that set up.”
“Great,” Harper said. “It sounds like we have a plan. Now…who’s hungry? I passed the cutest little coffee shop on the way here with the best donuts.”
“Didn’t you just have a donut?” Conor asked.
“Yeah, but there was a coconut one I really wanted to try and I’m still hungry. It’ll be my treat,” she added to sweeten the deal—literally.
Luca chuckled. “That sounds good to me. I should probably hang out here and wait for my crew, since I took down the boards, but I could meet you?—”
