He liked his music loud and his people quiet.
But something shifted once J.P. brought the animal home from the shelter. No longer caged, the dog grew out of his introversion. His tail wagged a little more each and every day. And while he had experienced some stranger anxiety initially, he now greeted their neighbors with a flat tongue pressed to their palms and a happy little bark of recognition.
Even J.P.’s dog was more of a people-person than J.P. was.
This morning was no exception. Of course, it didn’t help that J.P.’s neighbor, Dora May, often smelled like she’d doused herself in dog treat-scented perfume. The woman owned the Bow-Wow Boutique directly beneath the apartments and spent much of her days making peanut butter dog biscuits and catnip cookies. Like she gave off puppy love pheromones, Waylon instinctively gravitated toward her, and this morning when he glimpsed her step out into the hallway, he bounded toward the woman with unbridled glee.
“Good morning, sweet love.” Dora cupped the dog’s face, ruffling up his jowls between her thumbs and fingers. She pressed a kiss to the top of his blocky head. “It’s always so good to see you.” Her voice dropped back down to pure monotone as she rose to her feet and made eye contact with her human neighbor. “J.P.” She offered a curt nod. “Morning.”
He nodded and adjusted his earpiece. Clapping his hand to his thigh to call his dog over, J.P. jogged down the stairs, Waylon following happily on his heels. Escaping any more forced pleasantries, the two loaded into his truck and set out for the Ridge.
If he had to admit it out loud, J.P. was a little jealous of the Callahan property. All of that space and seclusion. Privacy and potential. He wouldn’t know what to do with it all.
But that pesky neighbor—and her even peskier bees—was a huge turn off.
Turn off might not be the right phrase, because when it came down to it, her tenacious will had actually been quite the opposite. J.P. had never felt more betrayed by his own heart than when she’d stomped her way up to him and ratcheted up his pulse like he’d just touched a hot stove.
Flipping the blinker on, he let his truck coast down the road toward the jobsite while his thoughts coasted toward Nora and her fiery temper. Was he crazy to think there was some sort of pull between them? His track record with women wasn’t so great. He had no clue how to read them. If he had, he would’ve seen the red flags with Kenzie.
Things like a series of canceled dates. A mystery man in her text threads. That one time J.P. caught Kenzie with his older brother, Dylan, at the Farmers’ Market, sharing a sundae and an all too guilty grin.
But he’d had blinders on. Blinders that went up when he’d proposed and she’d said yes. J.P. had falsely assumed it was appropriate to trust the person who wore a promise in the form of a diamond on her ring finger.
That’s what made the whole thing so dang embarrassing. All the signs were there, laid out like a list on a scavenger hunt. It just hadn’t been a game he’d wanted to play. Even still, Kenzie had forced him to. She would never have come out with the truth on her own. Instead, the clues kept dropping until one day, J.P. finally saw Kenzie and Dylan at the church potluck, his brother’s hand pressed low to the small of his fiancé’s back while they wove their way through the long line of three-bean salads and potato casseroles.
If there was ever a place for gossip to spread, the potluck attendees made sure news got around like wildfire.
And even though J.P. should have seen it coming, the truth still burned.
Huffing out a sigh, he glanced across the cab toward his dog. “You’ve got it good, buddy,” he said, making the mutt’s ears perk up on his head at attention. “No women. No worries. No troubles.”
He knew it was a little insensitive considering the poor animal had spent half a year behind bars in a cold, lonely kennel. In a way, they were both free now. Two single guys, enjoying a simple life while doing their best to have fun and stay out of trouble.
The drive out to the property wasn’t a long one and fifteen minutes after he’d set out for the edge of town, J.P. guided his truck onto the ranch, killing the engine up close to the house. He pulled his toolbox from the truck bed, grabbed his outdated but reliable boombox from the cab, and mentally clocked in while checking out of all his worries.
Construction was his calling, always had been.
So why did frustration course through him when he realized he was building a dream home for someone else, but couldn’t build the dream life he’d always envisioned for himself?
Chapter Five
Nora ran the feather duster over the windowsill, mesmerized by the specks of dust that caught in streams of light like iridescent bits of dancing glitter. She knew it was weird to be enchanted by dust particles. But Beethoven’s fifth symphony playing in her headphones might’ve helped a little in transforming dirt into something spectacular. There was an ethereal quality to it all; something cleansing and restorative.
It was her job to make things clean. As a housekeeper, her clients expected things to sparkle and shine, and Nora took pride in her hard handiwork. She loved the organizational aspect of it all too. Loved how a cluttered house could become a spotless haven in the matter of a few simple hours.
Dropping her can of Pledge into her box of cleaning solutions and rags, she moved back through the three-bedroom home, popping her head into each room as a final once-over.
Nora had been cleaning the Berkeley residence for over five years. When she’d started, Paul and Tracy were newlyweds, with a limited amount of furniture but a houseful of dreams. Paul had an office in the front where he’d do his architectural work remotely for a big firm in Hamilton, and the small bedroom near the master remained empty, save for a hand-me-down, ocean-themed mobile already tacked up in the corner of the room.
It didn’t take long for a crib and a changing table to join that mobile, and only a few months more until there was a bundled baby resting in the most beautiful bassinet Nora had ever seen.
Nora loved watching Claire grow into a sweet little toddler and then a big sister two times over.
The expanding family finally pushed Paul’s workspace out of the house, and while Tracy often apologized for the toys, puzzles, and board books that took over, Nora never minded the mess. It was a gift to be a part of their lives, to see the inner workings of their family and be blessed with a consistent job and a paycheck.
And the hand-colored drawings Claire often gave Nora after a day at preschool were the biggest reward of all.
Slipping her duster into her belt loop, Nora rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. She wanted all of this. She already had the house, but not the full life of her dreams lived within it.
