Heron's Landing. JoAnn Ross

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      Over the years, partly in loyalty to her best friend and partly to keep her own hormones in check, she’d tried to convince herself that Seth Harper was just another guy. Okay, better-looking than most, but still, it wasn’t as if he were movie-star handsome like Chris Evans. Or any of the other hot Chrises: Hemsworth, Pine or Pratt.

      But she’d been wrong. As he strolled toward her across the street, she decided that just maybe he topped them all. He was tall, lean and lanky, which only emphasized the intriguing ridges visible beneath the black T-shirt he was wearing under a flannel shirt. Brianna didn’t think it was possible to have a zero body fat ratio, but if it was, he was definitely pulling it off.

      A black ball cap worn backward covered his hair, but his eyes were that same melted-chocolate brown she remembered, and above the hollows in his cheeks, his jaw bore a sexy scruff. Though, as he neared, she could detect lines fanning out from his eyes that hadn’t been there two years ago.

      “Hey, you.” She hugged him, just as she had Kylee. But this hug was different. Even as Brianna reminded herself that he was her best friend’s widower, despite all those years of telling herself that the man was off-limits, and not to even be fantasized about in her most secret moments, her breath caught in a way that could not be good.

      “Hey, you.” Was his voice deeper? Rougher? She wasn’t sure, but it had definitely caused something inside her to jitter. He broke the brief hug off. “It’s been a while.”

      “It has.” They’d been standing side by side at the love of his life’s funeral. She’d had no jittering that day. No unsteady breath. Just a deep, aching pain that went all the way to the bone.

      “I’ve been meaning to get back for ages, but somehow days flew by, then weeks, then months, then a year had passed, then two, and...”

      She slammed her mouth shut. Of course he, of all people, would know how many days, weeks, months and years had passed. That wretched day had to have been etched forever in his mind. And in no way that had anything to do with her.

      “Anyway, I’ve quit my job and come home for a lifestyle change.”

      “That’s a surprise.” His cocked brow echoed Mai’s. “Zoe always talked about how much you loved your work in the fast lane.”

      “Well, you know how it is.” Determined to appear casual, even as those butterflies in her stomach had turned into giant condors, she waved an airy hand. “Or possibly you don’t, not because Honeymoon Harbor isn’t exactly in the fast lane...”

      Terrific. Now she was implying Seth Harper was some small-town rube. Could Mount Baker please just erupt and cover her in ash and lava now before she made things worse? “But you always knew exactly what you wanted to do.”

      Hadn’t he built the tree house he and Zoe would hide out in with his own two hands from wood reclaimed from Harper Construction dumpsters? No. She was not going to think about what the two of them might have been doing in that house that Zoe had hung curtains in, because any thoughts of sex concerning this man were off-limits.

      “I mean, you were the only person I’ve ever met who probably knew the difference between Italianate, Gothic Revival and Queen Anne styles of Victorians before the rest of us mastered long division.”

      She remembered, while they’d been running wild in Herons Landing, he’d stop and point out architectural details one of his ancestors had originally installed. Her brothers, intent on adventure, had never paused to listen. But she had. Though, to be honest, back then she would’ve been more than happy to listen to him recite the tide tables.

      Her thoughts were spinning even faster than she was talking. Even Kylee was looking at her strangely. She was saved from making a total fool of herself when a huge brown-and-black dog leaped out of the truck’s window and came bounding toward them.

      “Bandit!” Seth shouted. The dog’s only response was to run faster, its tail wagging like a metronome. “Stay!”

      Whether it was intending to obey, or it had finally reached its target, the dog came skidding to a halt in front of Brianna and, in way of greeting, thrust his huge nose into the crotch of her jeans.

      “Hell.” Seth grabbed its collar, and tugged. “I’m sorry. We’re still working on manners.”

      “That’s okay.” She reached down and rubbed his broad head, scratching behind its ear. Her family had always had dogs, which, needless to say, hadn’t been possible for her once she’d left home. Even if she had found a small couch potato breed, her long working hours wouldn’t have been fair to any animal. “Aren’t you a handsome boy?”

      Moaning with canine ecstasy, he collapsed on the ground and rolled over for a tummy rub, exposing his male parts in all their proud glory.

      “Don’t get him started,” Seth warned. He yanked off his cap and stuck it in his back pocket, revealing shaggy hair, streaked with the rich, golden brown of big-leaf maple leaves in fall. “Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile.”

      “And probably deserves it.” Crouching down, she obliged as eighty-plus pounds of dog wiggled on its back, huge paws waving in the air, a picture of pure canine bliss. “His name is Bandit?”

      “Yeah. Because he’s a thief. I adopted him partly to stop him from swiping all the workers’ lunches. And not just food. Shoes, socks, toothbrush, you name it, he’ll take it. Last week he swallowed an entire dish towel, which involved a trip to the vet.”

      “Ouch.”

      “Bri’s going to buy Herons Landing,” Kylee said, jumping into the conversation.

      The dark brow climbed again, practically disappearing beneath the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Seriously?”

      “Seriously. And you sound skeptical.” Now that they’d moved to talking about work, Brianna was back in her comfort zone, her mind returning to a more familiar organizing and planning mode. “Kylee said you restored the exterior. Which looks wonderful, by the way.” She decided not to risk offending him by mentioning the exterior paint colors. “At least from the ad on the website.”

      “The rough edges on that ad were smoothed out by the real estate agent doing some Photoshop magic,” he confirmed what she’d already been told. “Though that part’s close to being done. The interior, however, is definitely still a work in progress.”

      “Which, I’ve learned over the course of our job, is contractor speak for ‘It’s going to take twice as long and three times the money,’” Kylee said.

      “Especially when clients keep bringing up new ideas they want,” Seth responded pointedly.

      Bandit, realizing that he’d gotten as much tummy rubbing as he was going to get right now, was sitting in front of Brianna, his brown eyes giving her an adoring look she guessed often worked to his advantage.

      “I can’t deny that,” Kylee said with a laugh.

      “I keep telling her to step away from Houzz and Pinterest,” Mai said. “But she’s like an addict. Just one more picture. And the next thing you know, it’s two in the morning and she’s printed СКАЧАТЬ