I haven’t told a soul, but I got a call last week from an old friend I went to school with, Shane Elliston. He moved down to Southern California a couple of years ago and started a landscape and pool design business. He’s been so successful that he needs help managing it, and he called to see if I’d be interested in coming to work with him. His plan was to try things out for six months, and if it went well, I’d have the option to buy in, meaning Shane and I would be equal partners. It’s a fucking amazing opportunity, and I was floored when he spelled it out for me, but I told him I needed time to think about it. He understood and asked for an answer in the next couple of months. I know I’ve got loads of time to make the decision, but I haven’t been able to focus on anything else since our conversation.
I’ve lived in Western Washington my entire life, and my roots run deep here. Even though I’m an only child, I’m incredibly close to my huge extended family. Moving away would be a huge shock to my system, and until the last year or so, I’d never even considered it. But with the way things have been feeling different between Mason and me lately, I’m not sure if there’s room for me at Hot Dam Homes anymore. And that’s only my work life. If you were to take into account the pathetic state of my love life, or lack thereof, you might wonder why the hell I feel anchored to Seattle at all.
“The owner has visions of the resort becoming a hidden jewel along the Pacific Northwest coast,” Mason’s saying. “He’s a big-deal Hollywood producer, and he wants to run the resort when he retires. I guess it’s always been his wife’s dream to do this, and he’s sparing no expense to get top-quality everything. The reason he hired us is because of our local knowledge. He’s serious about not wanting to be some giant douche-canoe gajillionaire who comes into a small town and changes everything. He wants this place to be super exclusive, a place where A-listers can come and be left alone. The location is perfect for that kind of thing since it’s sort of hidden away, off the highway a bit. It’s on this little peninsula, with the buildings sitting right on the cliff’s edge. The views are just insane.” Mason is as excited as a puppy with a bone. It’s ridiculously cute.
“Anyway, I can tell you’re wondering why in hell we called you in here for this, right?” He grins, and there are a few chuckles around the room. He might be the boss, but he’s still one of the guys. I don’t think Mason knows how to be any other way, and his employees love him for it.
“This job is critical to HDH, so we need to get it right since it will be like a living business card for some very high-net-worth clients. Normally, for a job like this, we would handle planning and coordinating, and then we’d subcontract out most of the work to local guys. But I want to try something different.” He pauses for effect here, and I chuckle inwardly. My cousin has picked up a few storytelling tips from his actor and soon-to-be screenwriter husband, Jackson Cullen. He’s giving this story the full dramatic treatment, and everyone in the room, myself included, is hanging off every word.
“We decided to call this aHot Dam Homes Signature Project. That means anyone putting a finger on this job is either a full-time HDH employee or is someone we’ve already worked with and can vouch for. We know the quality of the work you all do, and that’s what makes our reputation so stellar. What all this means is that we have some really cool opportunities coming up for anyone who’s interested in working out on the coast for a few weeks at a time on this job. It’s bigger than anything we’ve done before, so it’s going to be new and different. There’s going to be a ton of stuff for all of us to learn, and it would be good for everyone to spend some time there.” Mason pauses, and the room explodes with excited chatter for a minute before he holds a hand up, laughing. “I know there will be a shitload of questions, so let’s go one at a time so everyone can hear the answers.”
The room quiets down, and Brad, one of the senior guys, speaks first.
“Are you going to be staying out there for the whole job?” he asks.
“Good question, and no, I won’t be out there for the whole time. Pretty sure Jackson would have my head in a vise for that.” He grins sheepishly. “But our plan is to have one or two guys move out there for the whole time to act as forepersons, overseeing all the moving parts.” Brad nods, satisfied with the answer.
After a few more questions, the meeting starts to naturally break up, and Mason and Dylan start to get up from their chairs. “Just one more thing,” Mason says, gathering some papers from the table. “If any of you are interested in living out at the coast for a while and taking on the foreperson job I talked about, come talk to me, and we’ll see what we can do. I trust each one of you to do a great job, and this is a fantastic opportunity for anyone who might be looking to spend some time out of Seattle.”
My mind wanders as Mason answers more questions that pop up as people start getting their stuff ready to go. I don’t want to admit it, but I’m a little hurt he and Dylan didn’t let me in on this news before telling the rest of the company. I know I’m not officially a partner, but I’ve always been kind of treated as a “number two.” I snort inwardly at that and then roll my eyes at myself. God, I’m such a child. But if my status as Hot Dam Homes’ “number two” is fading, maybe it’s another sign I need to be changing my life up. California would at least be warm and sunny.
I wonder who they’re going to want to live out there as their point people. Like he mentioned, Mason isn’t going to want to be away from home for that long, especially since the worst-kept secret around is that he and Jackson have been searching for a surrogate as they try to start a family, so he won’t be doing any long-term traveling. Dylan’s partner, Reed, is an ER doctor here in town, plus they have a little hobby farm out in the eastern suburbs. They can’t leave for extended periods without having someone come in to care for their animals. What that probably means is that they’re going to want me to move out there. Which, honestly, sounds amazing. A few months away from Seattle and out of the comfortable family nest might be just what I need to work myself out of the funk I’ve been in for the last few months. Maybe I’ll be able to get some clarity on what, and where, I want my future to be. Obviously, Ocean Shores isn’t as far away as SoCal, but it’s still further away than anywhere else I’ve lived. Considering I’m pushing forty, maybe it’s time I expand my horizons and do a little adulting of my own.
Over the last few years, I’ve watched both Mason and Dylan find their person. Neither of them really thought they’d be the type to settle down. Mason spent years in a toxic and traumatic relationship, and it took him a long time to recover. Dylan, being autistic, never believed he’d be able to connect with someone on that level. But they’ve each managed to find a partner who is perfect for them. Don’t get me wrong, I’m incredibly happy for both of them. But when we were kids, I was the one who harbored secret dreams of getting married and having a big family one day. I’ve never had grand career ambitions. I know that’s not a typical little boy’s dream, but the heart wants what it wants, I guess. I’ve always wanted the whole deal, right down to the white picket fence.
Even as a teen, when I realized I liked both girls and guys, that vision I had for my future didn’t change much. My family is incredibly supportive, so I knew I would want a big family whether my partner was a woman or a man. But I haven’t found my person, and believe me, I’ve tried real hard. Serial dater, thy name is Sam. Maybe the universe really is sending me a message. Maybe it’s time I start imagining a different future.
Shaking my head, I try to clear out my confusing thoughts as Mason finishes answering questions and announces we’re heading out to our local hangout, Harley’s.
CHAPTER 3
TYLER
As Mason wraps up the meeting, Kev, one of the guys I’ve been working with lately, puts a hand on my shoulder.
I turn to face him, and he waits until I can see his mouth before speaking. “Dude, you coming to Harley’s?” he asks and then continues before I can answer. “Parking is always a bitch down there on the waterfront. Why don’t I give you a lift?”
“Sure, that sounds great,” I say, giving him an easy smile. Kev can be a little immature sometimes, but he’s a good guy. Like everyone at Hot Dam Homes, he’s great about making sure I’m looking at him before he speaks to me so I can lip-read. Just one of a million small and large reasons I love working with this company.
As we follow everyone out of the conference room, I sneak a glance over at Sam Campbell. His expression is bright as sunshine as he chats with some of the others. Because he hasn’t noticed me, I treat myself to a nice, long look, taking in his wavy brown hair and brown eyes surrounded by the cutest laugh lines. I’ve always thought Sam was hot as hell, but he looks particularly gorgeous today. He has to keep running a hand through his hair to keep it out of his eyes, which is strangely sexy. He must have changed after he finished up at his jobsite, as his normally grubby, paint-stained jeans and random concert tee have been replaced with clean jeans that fit him like a second skin. The way they spread over his ass and wrap his strong thighs perfectly make my mouth water. His heather-gray Henley is just tight enough to highlight the shape of his arms, and I immediately start picturing what his abs must look like underneath that fabric. The man is a total smokeshow.
I don’t know him well, but that’s my fault, not his. When I first started at HDH, I hadn’t been home from deployment long, and I was struggling to adapt to my hearing loss. I didn’t talk much to anyone, although if I’m honest, that’s not a huge change. I was never a big talker, even before I lost my hearing. Sam tried to draw me out a lot during those first months, but after I repeatedly shut him down, he backed off. Which just shows what a great guy he is; he didn’t push me when he realized I was uncomfortable. The only problem is that now, I’dloveto get to know him better, but I’m way too socially awkward to do anything about it, and seriously, there’s no way a guy like Sam would ever want to be with someone like me.
I wouldn’t say I’m completely at ease with the whole deafness thing now, but I’m a lot more relaxed about it than I was back then. Hearing aids have made a big difference, and while I’ll never be able to hear the world the way I used to, technology keeps giving us more and more ways to adapt to being deaf. There is also an entire community of deaf and hard of hearing people out there who I can reach out to for help. Since I still have some of my hearing, I haven’t been forced to learn a sign language like ASL, although I’d like to if I could ever find the time. I’d like to make more connections within the D/deaf community. It would be nice to have people to talk to who just get it without me having to explain anything.
Just as Kevin and I are getting to the door, Sam must sense someone looking at him because he looks up, and our eyes lock, like something out of one of my romance novels. I bite my lip to stop from snorting a laugh, because what the hell kind of ridiculous thought is that, and give him an awkward half-wave thing before following Kevin out the door.
It’s a typical January night in Seattle, rain absolutely pelting down. The wind is blowing like a son of a bitch, driving the rain into our faces so it feels like we’re getting stabbed with thousands of tiny needles as we jog across the parking lot and into the pub. We’re first to arrive, so we get ourselves situated by pulling a few tables together, and Kev goes to let the staff know there will be a bunch of us coming in while he grabs the first round.
When he returns to the table, he hands me a ginger ale. I guess I’ve managed to get to know these guys enough so that they know what I drink, or don’t, when we go out.
I’m not a complete teetotaler, but I don’t touch booze if I’m driving. It’s a rule I gave myself when alcohol began to feel like something I couldn’t live without. When I first got back from deployment, I got into the dangerous habit of drinking myself to sleep every night. It was pretty much the only coping mechanism I had, since growing up, that was the only way I ever saw adults deal with hard shit. My mom always believed the answer to any problem could be found at the bottom of a bottle of cheap vodka. And even though she never found it, she kept looking for years, which is a big part of the reason she landed in a care home with severe dementia when she’s only in her mid-fifties.
The rest of the HDH gang spills into the bar, and it’s a lively crowd. To make things even more interesting, the rest of the Campbell clan shows up shortly after everyone else, which is fun, although it can be a little overwhelming. In addition to Mason and Dylan, there’s Jackson, Mason’s husband, who used to be an action movie star; Reed, Dylan’s partner, who is also a smoking-hot ER doctor; Mason and Dylan’s sister, Grace; and her husband, Derek, who, ironically, is my therapist and is basically responsible for me getting the job at Hot Dam Homes.
The Campbells are so different from my own family it’s mind-boggling. They’re a big, boisterous, fun group who clearly enjoys spending time together. My family, on the other hand, consisted of my mom, who, if she was around, was usually drunk or stoned, and my older brother, Aaron, and calling us “dysfunctional” would be a huge compliment. I’m not sure there’s a word to describe how fucked-up we were. But I like seeing how the Campbells interact with each other. It feels like watching a movie since it feels so far out of my reach. They’re always teasing each other and laughing, telling jokes and stories. It makes me happy and sad at the same time. Sad because I never got to experience that kind of family, but happy to see they exist in the real world. It’s nice to have proof that happy families don’t only exist in Hollywood fairy tales.
A couple of hours later, I’m considering heading out, but before I can excuse myself, Mason comes and sits in the chair beside me.
