Not that I’m fantasizing. But ... um, I might be a little bit. I shake my head to clear the cobwebs and notice he wears a pair of Carhartt pants and a blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. Even from this distance, his forearms appear solid.
Wisps of sandy hair peek out from under his hard hat. My gaze drifts and I recognize some of the men on the site—Isaac from Sparkle Bar, and Ron. Ron’s wife, Jennifer, owns the pharmacy.
But what’s sitting at the man’s feet makes my breath catch. A small, woolly creature with a delicate golden horn erupting from the center of its forehead takes a step, loses its balance, and falls against the tall man’s shin.
Oh my gosh.
Is that alambicorn?
Chapter 2
Stone
“Boss, you gotta see this,” Ron calls from outside the trailer.
I slam a fist down on my desk. “Dammit!”
“Okay, we’ll leave,” he shouts.
“No, not you.” I rub my face with both hands and groan. On my phone is an image of the original vinyl recording ofSaxophone Colossus—an album that just slipped through my fingers.
CollectorPrep561 beat me in the auction.
Again.
How do they keep doing that?
One day I will track down this person and make them a scathingly obscene offer for every vinyl in their possession. They won’t hesitate to sell, and I’ll finally win the albums they’ve technically stolen / not stolen out from under me.
I slip the phone into my pocket. “Come in!”
The trailer door swings open and Ron and Isaac enter. Isaac tips his hard hat to me, while Ron pulls his off as if he’s stepped into a church.
They oversee the resort construction, hired by my brother because they’re his friends. Decent guys. Smart. Honest. Honesty is a good thing.
It’s thebestthing.
I grab my hard hat from the desk and put it on. “What’s up?”
Isaac smooths a hand down the braids that fall over his shoulder. “You need to see this.”
“What? Did something happen? Did the shipment not come in?”
They exchange a charged glance and Ron smirks. “Nothing like that. It’s different.”
“Okay, show me.”
Outside, workers jackhammer, steel beams go up, and the Summit at Mystic Meadows is being framed out. It’s the first solo project my brother and I have taken on, and my future rides on it.
We pass a pile of bricks that was unloaded in the wrong place. “Isaac, get those bricks moved. Whoever told the delivery guy to put them there should have known better.”
“Yes, sir.”
My phone rings while we’re walking and I pull it from my pocket.
The nameSylviaflashes on the screen.
Mom.
