Page 62 of Burn Point

“Why would you automatically assume I’m thinking about Jordan? I could be measuring this to be cut or taking stock of what we need from the hardware store.”

“Because no man ever looked at lumber with that expression,” he retorted, slinging a toolbelt on the tailgate before hoisting himself up.

“Right. Okay, lover boy. I forgot you’re the king of relationships now that Leah has domesticated you.”

His gaze traveled across the yard of the house we were working on, to where Leah was sitting on a swing in the yard with the resident.

“I appreciate you taking the lead on this, man, and including me and Leah on it.” Mike’s voice was low and gruff. “We’d been feeling pretty helpless, wanting to help, trying to do something, and not really able to find the right way to go about it.”

I knew what he meant. We’d all been trying to do something, anything, to help the people that still hadn’t had much result in getting repairs made. Most of the people in this neighborhood were lower income, living in shotgun houses, dependent on their property owners. And many of the property owners weren’t handling things at all. It’d been nearly two months since the storm. We were stepping in to make sure the tarps on their roofs were still secure. This was our last scheduled stop of the day.

“I get it. It’s taken some work to get through to the right people, but finally I was able to make some headway with the leader of that non-profit. I’m hoping I can continue this on a larger scale.”

Mike slipped off his work gloves and laid them across his leg. “What do you mean?”

I leaned a hip against the tailgate, anxious about admitting what I’d been doing in the past few weeks. “I filed the paperwork to open a home improvement business. I’m hoping that I can take some side jobs and help some of these people rebuild.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Dude, that’s great.”

I shrugged. “Maybe? I’m concerned with my timing. That people won’t think I’m legit. But I can do small jobs. Mostly, if I take a job, I can subcontract with licensed people, and make sure they are legit for the homeowner.”

“Like a project manager, almost?”

“Yeah, a contractor.” I was nervous as all hell to step into the role, especially when I knew enough to be dangerous. But I was good at connecting people, and a good judge of character. Mostly though, I had the desire to help, and I figured that had to count for something.

“That’s good. You know enough people in this town to know who to ask if someone is legit.”

“Yeah, and I’m banking my reputation on it. I live here. These are my people. I’m not going to let someone do shady shit if I can help it. Plus, I can do the small stuff mostly myself.”

Mike jumped down from the tailgate. “I think that’s great. What made you decide to do this start-up?”

“I don’t know. I enjoyed helping Jordan fix up her van. It felt good to do something, to be useful. When she left, I was bored. I started a garden, but it wasn’t taking up enough of my spare time. I did some work on my house, fixing it up. And decided that I knew enough to be able to help, and if I don’t know how to do something, I know enough people that do.”

He clapped a hand to my shoulder. “It’s good for you to have something of your own that you love to do.”

A knot of tension, worry, released at his approval and support. “I’m hoping it takes off. I like the thought of being my own boss. And I’m not doing it for the money. I just want to help people rebuild.”

Mike was nodding and watching me with approval. “I like it, dude. Let me know if you need an extra set of hands. Now, I’m gonna go get my woman.” He walked away from me, and I let out a relieved breath.

I hadn’t told anyone about my new business venture, just in case it didn’t go anywhere, but my pride swelled at the thought of that business certificate I’d gotten in the mail. I was doing this. I was making it happen.

We cleaned up from our workday and spent the evening grilling burgers. When Jordan called, I included the whole group in the video. We didn’t talk long though, and I missed our one-on-one time. Most nights, I fell asleep talking to her while she worked. I didn’t know what would happen next, but for now, I was enjoying where we were headed.

I was sitting in a recliner at the station when the Chief called my cell phone asking what my location was.

“Nate, I need to see you. Where are you?” his authoritative voice barked in my ear when I answered the call.

“I’m at the station, sir, unless we get a call.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

I walked out to the bay so I’d be waiting when he got there. If he was going to chew my ass out, I wanted a little bit of privacy while he went about it.

His big shiny SUV pulled around the back of the station, the tinted windows not allowing me to see faces, but I could tell he wasn’t alone.

He parked directly behind the engine, and both front doors opened. A tall, dark-haired man climbed out of the passenger side. The rear passenger door popped open, and a child hopped out of the back seat.

The two strangers approached slowly, the little kid taking his father’s hand, hiding behind him, as Chief rounded the front of the vehicle.

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