Her mind filled with possibilities, each more exciting than the one before. Then she took in her surroundings once more, and she fell back to earth with a hard thud.
“I think I need to focus on more basic renovations first before I think about expanding. Brighten things up. New paint, maybe, new lighting, and I could clear out about half the inventory, so it doesn’t feel so cluttered in here.”
“Not a bad idea. If you need help, let me know.”
“I can’t believe my mother hasn’t put more energy into freshening up the place. It’s not as if she doesn’t have the resources. She owns a construction company, for heaven’s sake.”
His mouth tightened, as if he was annoyed at her for daring to voice anything resembling criticism of her mother. It was another unwanted reminder of their close working relationship.
“She’s been a little busy trying to keep Lucas Construction afloat. That’s why she brought in your grandmother to help with the bookstore in the first place.”
Emma glanced over at him, surprised. “Lucas is doing great, isn’t it? I mean, the town has grown so much. When we drove in yesterday, I saw construction projects everywhere.”
“Wood Briar is definitely growing, but Lucas Construction isn’t the only game in town. It takes a lot of effort to stay relevant in an evolving market, especially with plenty of healthy competition. It’s not easy for a construction companyto pay a living wage and also make a profit. Your mom has really turned things around the past few years, but it’s been a rough road to get here.”
Her parents had both worked hard to build the company. Emma remembered many hours spent hanging out in the office up on Kingfisher Road when she was a kid. That was when the company was a two-person operation and built maybe three or four homes a year.
Lucas Construction had soon branched out to commercial real estate as well as working more with property developers, and the business exploded. They had taken on more employees: project supervisors, designers, office staff. By the time she left town, Lucas Construction had a payroll of more than fifty people.
Including Pam Clarke, the office manager.
Her stomach clenched. From what Emma had heard, Pam still lived in town, still worked for the company. Emma would have to see her at some point. She couldn’t avoid it. The thought left her feeling vaguely ill.
“I really would be happy to help you,” Bryce said. “Let me know.”
Emma probably would not be doing that. “Thanks,” she said.
“It really is good to see you again, Emma. I know Rosie is thrilled to have you home.”
“Right. Good to see you, too,” she lied.
Okay, it wasn’t completely a lie. What woman didn’t appreciate a hot, ripped guy who loved books? But that wasn’t why she had returned to Oregon.
She didn’t want to mess this up. She had a job to do at The Rainy Day Bookshop. Her mother was counting on her... and her daughter needed the stability and connection to hergrandmother and great-grandmother Olive was already finding here.
Emma couldn’t afford to ruin everything by letting herself become distracted by a man who stood in the way of everything she wanted.
Chapter Three
Bryce
Oh man, he had it bad.
Bryce walked through the cramped bookstore aisle, hardly aware of where he was. After all these years, Emma Lucas was actually here, within the same four dingy walls.
He had known she was coming back. Rosie had talked of little else for the past week, ever since Sylvia’s accident when Emma had finally agreed to return to Wood Briar.
He had worked long hours to finish upgrading the two guest bedrooms and bathroom at Rosie’s comfortable house overlooking Crescent Beach, aware with each nail he pounded and each board he measured that this would be for Emma.
Seeing her again felt like a punch to the gut. His heart raced, and his palms grew sweaty. He had wanted her for so long, dreamed of her countless nights, and now she was here, flesh and blood, more beautiful than he remembered.
The yearning he thought he had buried years ago came rushing back with a vengeance, threatening to overwhelm him.
She had certainly changed in eight years, since the last time he had seen her in person. That moment seemed seared into his memory, though.
Bryce had been standing in the hallway of Wood Briar High School, near his locker. He was late for his first-hour English class and knew Mr. Olsen would write him up. Again.
He had only been on time for first hour maybe a dozen times the entire second trimester of the school year, partly because he passionately hated English class. Dan Olsen wasan ass, a petty tyrant who delighted in making someone like Bryce Kendall feel even more stupid than he usually did.