“Whatever you’re about to say, the answer’s no.” Papers rustled in the background. “This is the biggest contract we’ve ever landed. If we pull it off?—”
“It could put us on the map,” Luke finished. “I know.”
What he knew was that Keaton would never be satisfied by how busy they were. He was bound to put himself into an early grave trying to live up to his old man’s reputation. He failed to realize they were already on the map because of the decades his dad spent building the contractor company he’d handed over to Keaton a few years back.
“Exactly. So whatever charity case Rachel’s trying to rope you into—because I know that’s what this is about—it’ll have to wait.”
Luke picked up a scrap of wood, turning it over in his hands. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”
“Don’t need to. I know you, and I know your sister. She finds strays. You fix them up.” Another pause. “Look, I get it. But we need this win, Luke.”
The wood grain blurred under Luke’s fingers. Keaton was right—this was their shot at moving beyond local renovations. Maybe even expanding beyond Maple Hill. The market for bigger jobs had been pretty dry, and it felt like every proposal their numbers guy, Finn, put together had been undercut by one of the bigger firms out of Afton. Maybe Keaton was right. They needed to score a home run on this project.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “You’re right. Luckily, she hasn’t even texted me the number yet.” Luke didn’t mentionwhoshe was trying to get him to help. Even though Keaton was Rachel and Megan’s age, Keaton and Luke had been friends since they were teenagers.
That meant Keaton knew way too much about Luke as the gangly younger brother who got caught checking out the guys his sister hung out with—Noah included. If he knew Luke was even entertaining the idea of helping the guy who’d been an integral part of his sexual awakening, he’d be insufferable.
“Good man.” Relief colored Keaton’s voice. “See you bright and early Monday?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
The call ended, leaving Luke alone with the radio’s soft melody and the weight of responsibility settling between his shoulders. He should feel relieved—he had a legitimate reason to turn down what would clearly be a massive undertaking. The house needed more than a quick fix. It needed someone who could dedicate time and attention to bringing it back to life. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would have bought it in its current shape, thinking they could move in and then do the work.
So why did the thought of saying no leave him feeling hollow?
Luke moved to the workshop’s small window, where the last rays of sunlight painted the sky in shades of pink and gold. Across the street, the Peterson kids chased each other with water guns, their laughter carrying on the evening breeze. Their father stood on the porch, calling them in for dinner.
It was the kind of scene that made Luke love Maple Hill, even as most of his friends moved away, seeking bigger opportunities.Here, everyone knew everyone. They looked out for each other, fixed what was broken, and celebrated small victories.
His phone buzzed again—Rachel, this time, with Noah Thompson’s contact information and a string of grateful emoji. Luke stared at the message, thumb hovering over the screen.
The Tillerman project could change everything for the company. For him. It was the kind of opportunity he’d been working toward since joining Keaton’s crew straight out of high school. The smart move would be to focus entirely on that, to push aside any distractions.
But somewhere in town, a single father and his son were living in a house that needed more than just repairs. It needed someone who understood the importance of solid foundations, of making something old feel like home again.
Not sure when I’ll have time, but I’ll give him a call when I can.
It wasn’t the refusal he’d told Keaton he’d give. And he’d been honest with Rachel about it not being a priority. As far as he was concerned, that was a decent compromise.
You’re the best! He needs someone who won’t try to screw him over.
Luke tucked his phone away without responding. Monday would come soon enough, bringing with it deadlines and expectations and the weight of potential success. For now, he had a coffee table to finish, wood grain waiting to tell its story under his hands.
The radio switched to an old Eagles song, Glenn Frey’s voice urging him to take it easy, and Luke smiled despite himself.Maybe Mrs. Chen was right. Some things were worth being a little wobbly for. Was he ready to find out what those things might be?
CHAPTER TWO
Water sprayedacross Noah’s dress shirt as he tightened the wrench, accomplishing exactly the opposite of what he’d intended. The steady drip that had been his morning companion for the past week had transformed into an impressive arc currently soaking everything within a three-foot radius of the sink.
“Dad, is it supposed to do that?” Noah bit back a sarcastic retort to his son’s question. At six, Eli didn’t realize how unhelpful his questions were. And Noah wasn’t going to be like his own father, pointing out that rhetorical questions wouldn’t fix anything.
Noah glanced over his shoulder to where Eli sat at their kitchen table, homework spread across the worn surface, his Captain America backpack listing precariously on the chair beside him. “No, buddy, it’s definitely not supposed to spray water all over the room.”
“Then maybe we should?—”
“Almost got it.” Noah adjusted his grip on the wrench, ignoring the water trickling down his arm and into the cuff of his shirt.The mountain ofYouTubevideos he’d watched last night had made this look so much easier. None of them had mentioned the possibility of turning a minor leak into a makeshift fountain.
“Tommy’s dad always calls Mr. Martinez when their sink breaks. He fixes everything.” Eli’s pencil tapped against his math worksheet, a steady rhythm that matched the pulsing in Noah’s temple. “He even fixed their toilet last week when?—”
