AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTERONE
Buck
My baby sister’s staging company has backed out of my latest rehab project, and I’m starting the day grumpier than usual.
“Are you fucking for real, Susan?”
The high-pitched buzz of electric saws just outside my office window gives me a perfect excuse to holler at my sister.
My family is made up of all good people, but sometimes they really chap my hide. Like right now, my sister is leaving me in the lurch.
The voice on the other end of the phone is sympathetic to my plight, but firm. “I’m sorry, Buck. There’s no way Gold Hill Sisters can attach our name to a product in Fate. It’s…not our brand.”
Susan and her staging company in our hometown of Gold Hill have been my go-to for the last five years.
“Fate is up and coming, Susan. You’re going to miss a huge opportunity. I’m doing you a favor.”
Susan snorts. “You’re desperate for contractors in that dirty little podunk town. You need to cut and run, brother, before you sink any more money into the old Paget Mansion.”
My sister has a huge ego but she’s not wrong.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You’re behaving no better than the typical Gold Hill snob, and you’re missing the boat. But suit yourself. Wade, Harley and I will stage it ourselves.”
I know my baby sister, and I can practically see her rolling her eyes. “DIY-ing design is a whole different thing than DIY-ing a plumbing problem.”
“Oh yeah? Come down here and prove it.”
“Nice try, but no.”
Just then, there’s a knock on my construction trailer door.
“Come in!” I bark.
The door creaks open, and the first thing I see is a pair of red, four-inch open-toe heels that have no business on a construction site.
“Um, hi? I’m looking for Mr. Buckland Wood?” The voice is soft and hesitant. For the moment, I forget I’m on the phone with my sister.
My eyes take the scenic route to her face even though I know it’s ungentlemanly of me. Gorgeous gams, black pencil skirt, and matching fitted blazer straining to stay buttoned under a pair of magnificent tits. Her hair is pulled up in a professional bun, but loose chin-length tendrils frame a young, eager face. Her chestnut hair and freckled cheeks set off her striking eyes, which, if I’m not mistaken, are sizing me up at the same time.
My day just got a hell of a lot better. And prettier.
Suddenly I feel the powerful urge to chug a Gatorade. With my curiously dry throat I tell the visitor, “Call me Buck.”
“I’m Grace Winchester. May I have a minute of your time?”
She smiles wide, and I spot one slightly crooked tooth in front that I find completely charming.
Grace…Grace Winchester…can have a lot more than one minute.
She sees the phone in my hand and winces. “Oh, I’m sorry for barging in! I’ll wait outside until you finish your call.”
Refusing to take my eyes off this beauty, I abruptly end the phone call. “Gotta go, sis,” I blurt. I vaguely hear something like “good luck” on the other end, but I quickly hang up, tossing my phone on the desk. “There! Done. Have a seat. What can I do for you?”
The woman looks around curiously, “Um…”
And now, I realize that this is not a standard office, and I do not have anything for her to sit on. “Shit! Hang on.”
Five seconds in the presence of an angel and I’m a bumbling idiot. You’d never know I’m the founder of Wood Bros. Construction and a Marine corps officer. The stack of roof tile samples taking up one beat-up folding chair gets shoved into a corner of my office, and I dust off the seat.
