“I’m gonna go with it’s got character.”
Even though the rain had been nonstop for the better portion of the day, it had paused for the moment, although dark-gray clouds still occupied the skies and the wind hadn’t let up. I wrapped my arms around myself and pulled my blue raincoat closer, adjusting the brim of my baseball cap so it didn’t sit too low on my forehead. That was one thing I loved about having shortish hair—it always looked good underneath a ball cap. It was like the two were made for one another.
Ryan glanced over at me again, this time only arching one brow, but a smile still pulled at the corner of his full lips. And, yes, his dimples were very much present and accounted for. In his dark-brown sweater and navy-blue jeans, he had a relaxed yet preppy look, like he’d just jumped out of a J.Crew catalog. But his calloused, large hands, along with the expanse of his incredibly broad shoulders, definitely were tacit testimony that he wasn’t afraid of hard work. He probably welcomed it.
When he looked back at my house, his smile faded. “Peyton, this job is enormous,” he announced before looking down at me and shaking his head. “I don’t even know what would possess you to want to take on such a huge project.”
I exhaled and felt my shoulders droop. “It’s destiny.”
“Destiny?” he asked with a crooked smile.
“This house was left to me by a great-aunt I’ve never met, and I received the deeds to the house the same day that my divorce was finalized. Now if that isn’t an example of the hands of fate, I don’t know what is.”
“You were related to Myra?” Ryan asked with interest.
“She was my great-aunt,” I repeated, suddenly becoming increasingly interested in whether Ryan might be able to shed some light on this family connection of mine. “Did you know her?”
He chuckled. “No one ‘knew’ her,” he started and then sighed like the news he was about to impart might not be welcomed. “Pey, your aunt…”
“Great-aunt.”
“Great-aunt wasn’t exactly what I would consider a…friendly woman,” he finished with a slight smile. “By any stretch of the imagination.”
“Hmm, Hank said she tended to keep to herself.”
Ryan nodded. “I tried to be a good neighbor and checked in on her a dozen or so times but my visits were always very unwelcome.”
I sighed and then shrugged. “Well, good thing I’m not following in her footsteps.”
He chuckled. “Damn good thing!” Then the laugh died on his lips and he just smiled down at me, a wistful expression in his eyes. “Even though I think this house is way too much for you to take on yourself, I must admit I’m glad you’re here.” He swallowed. “I like you, Peyton.”
“I like you too, Ryan,” I answered with a genuine grin. “And want to know something else?”
He chuckled. “Of course.”
“I’d like you even better if you agreed to be the general on my job!” I finished with a huge grin and wide, happy eyes.
Ryan shook his head and laughed as he eyed the ground before returning his gaze to mine. “You should know that your house is in terrible shape and it’s completely unsafe for you to even consider livin’ in it.”
“I refuse to move,” I said in a tone that brooked no argument, dropping my playfulness from earlier. “I came here with a dream and I intend to see my dream to fruition.”
“Well, can’t you still have your dream, but also get a rental somewhere in the interim?”
I frowned up at him. “No.”
“How did I know you were gonna to say that?” he grumbled, although the smile on his face gave him away.
“Regardless of whether the house is unsafe or a huge job, that isn’t to say it can’t be fixed up?” I continued optimistically. I kept grinning up at him in such a way that I hoped it would be difficult to trample my hopes.
“Of course it can, but as far as me doin’ it…”
“No job is too big, no remodel too challenging,” I started, doing my best Superman narrator imitation as I held my arm up like Rosie the Riveter.
Ryan immediately started chuckling, then shook his head again and gave me an expression that said it would be tough, if not impossible, to change his mind. Damn, but this guy was stubborn! “Your job will require a huge crew, an enormous amount of time, machinery that I no longer have…”
“Blah,” I said, waving him away with an unconcerned hand. “You can find a crew, and I’m happy to rent any equipment you might need. Don’t you Southerners have Home Depots down here?”
He narrowed his eyes on me but didn’t look angry. Rather, he seemed more amused—like he was trying to talk a determined kid out of a trip to the toy store. “You have got to be the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met…well, aside from my sister.”
He was going to have one hell of a time on his hands because this kid was going to give him a run for his money when it came to stubbornness. “And proudly so,” I answered with a big grin.
Speaking of his stubborn sister, I was determined to get Ryan to acquiesce to my demands, for my own selfish reasons, yes, but also for Trina. There had been such an expression of desperation mixed with hope in Trina’s eyes when she’d asked me to try to win Ryan over to the idea of remodeling my house that I really wanted to persuade him. If construction truly was in Ryan’s blood, I wondered if I’d be doing him a favor, as Trina seemed to think. Maybe getting back into renovating old houses would be cathartic for him? Maybe it would be healing in some way. Or maybe it would only remind him of his deceased wife…That was a thought I didn’t want to ponder for long. But, in the end, I decided that Trina probably did know what was best for her brother. She was his blood, after all.
“I’m stubborn when I want the best, Ryan,” I said in a soft but serious tone, deciding to try my hand at flattering his ego.
He chuckled again and shook his head. “And how would you, Peyton, who just happened to move here—what?—a month ago? How would you even know I’m the best?”
I shrugged, thinking he made a good point. Including Hank and Trina, Ryan was one of only a handful of people I’d met so far in New Orleans. “Because I saw the amazing job you did on the Omni hotel and more importantly, Trina told me you were the best. She said Kelly’s Construction was a household name around New Orleans.” Then I smiled broadly again, pleased with my quick response. “And I never settle for anything less than a household name.”
“You do realize I haven’t even lifted a hammer in years?” he asked, rolling his fingers through his thick hair. His cheeks, jaw, and chin were shadowed by stubble, which meant he hadn’t shaved in a day or so. It gave him a certain mountain man look, or maybe it was something more roguish—like the hero you’d see on a romance novel cover. Either way, I found it hard to resist reaching out to run my fingers along his square jaw.
Realizing he was still trying to talk me out of hiring him, I offered him the expression of someone unimpressed. “You haven’t lifted a hammer in years?” I repeated, shaking my head like I wasn’t buying it even for a second. “I’m sure that’s stretching the truth.”
But he immediately nodded. “I’m rusty, Peyton. It’s been a long time.”
“So what?” I started.
“So I’m not available,” he interrupted, eyeing me pointedly. There wasn’t anything in his gaze that said I was annoying or taking the conversation too far. “I stopped the construction business for personal reasons and I’m not in a rush to start up again. I’m enjoyin’ my retirement.”
“Your retirement?” I reiterated, frowning up at him as I decided to avoid the “personal reasons” discussion at all costs. If he brought up his late wife, I’d be done. There was nothing I could argue that would in any way compensate for his loss. It was much better avoided or, if unavoidable, left alone.