Page 7 of My Bossy Valentine

“Good. How’s the family?”

Ezra was living in his truck, fighting an old injury, when our mutual friend, Gideon Blake, found him and gave him an old family cabin to fix up in White Falls. The peace he found whilerenovating the place changed him. He went from being almost a shell of a man to happily married in a few short months, and now they’re expecting a baby.

“I'm calling about the project we discussed last month. I have crews working to clear enough trees for a road and the four cabins.” Keeping the mountain landscape as undisturbed as possible is an important part of his plan. Ezra intends to open them to service members struggling the way he did, in hopes they will also find peace. It's a damn noble effort I'm proud to put my name behind.

Peak Construction will deliver the materials and build the basic structures. The rest will be up to the men and women who decide to live there. Avery will have to come with me when we start his project. I can’t have her working here while I’m there. Hopefully Dottie will be back by then, otherwise we’ll have to bring Oscar. Do cats travel well?

“—-ackwood?”

The name brings me back to the conversation. “What was that?”

“I asked if you ever met Anson Blackwood? He was in my unit for about a year. Big guy. Black hair. Scary quiet.”

I don't remember him, but that name... “Does he have a sister?” I hear myself ask.

“Fuck if I know. Can't get anything out of the man. He used to make interrogators sweat.”

A silent Blackwood? He can't possibly be related to Avery or Dottie. Chattiness is in their genes. It must be a coincidence.

I confirm our delivery dates and update the project calendar. As long as Lane doesn't decide to make any additional changes to his million-dollar rustic cabin, we should be on track to start Ezra's cabins. We're finalizing some details when I hear voices from the outer office.

Avery gives a strained laugh, and though I can't make out what she says, there's an edge to her voice I haven't heard before.

“Ezra, I'll call you back.”

I'm around my desk and through the door in seconds. Norwood Lane III, owner of the monstrosity currently under construction outside, is leaning a hip against the side of Avery's desk. His blond hair is slicked back, a wide smile on his face.

“It's Valentine's Day, Avery. A beautiful woman like you shouldn't sit home alone, reading a romance and petting her cat. That's for old ladies.”

Avery ducks her head, a flush spreading over her cheeks. “Thanks for that. But—”

“She has other plans.” I grip his shoulder and yank him away from her desk. Lane stumbles to right himself and straightens his jacket. I step in front of Avery, blocking his view of her.

“Sullivan. I was waiting to talk to you about an idea I had.” He clears his throat. “I was just passing the time asking Avery about Valentine's Day, hoping to get some ideas for my wife.”

She coughs behind me, covering an angry curse.

“Send me an email, although at this late in the construction project, we won't be able to accommodate further changes.”

Lane straightens. “That’s unacceptable. I’m paying you damn good money to make this house what I want.”

“Within reason. Which you exceeded weeks ago.”

“I'm the client here, Sullivan. You work for me.”

I step into his personal space, arms crossed. “Then I suggest you consider how you want this business relationship to go. I'm not always this pleasant to work with.”

I ignore the delicate snort behind me.

Lane stares at me hard, then turns on his heel and leaves the office.

I watch until he's in his fancy SUV and down the gravel drive before I turn back to Avery. She comes around her desk to stand before me.

“Thank you for telling him I had other plans. He was making me uncomfortable.”

“You're welcome. And you do.”

“Valentine's Day is tomorrow. I think I'd know—”

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