Page 3 of One Touch

I scrunched my nose at him. “I’m good here. Tootie and I are going to meet with the new contractor tomorrow morning. I’ll get everything sorted out, and hopefully we can start work right away. Bit by bit we’ll get it done.” I nodded, satisfied with my resolve to fix the house and my little broken family.

Lee swallowed hard, and I narrowed my eyes at him when he stayed quiet. Something was up, and it was more than my brothers’ chronic underestimation of me.

“What?”

He dragged a hand across the back of his neck but didn’t say anything more.

“What?” I asked again.

“Nothing. I have to run. Early shift at the fire station tomorrow.” He smiled, but I wouldn’t be fooled again by his boyish charms.

Something weird was going on, and Lee wasn’t telling me.

* * *

I huffeda breath and looked at my watch. “He’s late.”

My aunt patted my arm and clucked at me. “Five minutes. It’s fine, dear.”

The strange way Lee had bolted the night before had me on edge. My brothers were hiding something from me, and I didn’t like it. Not at all.

Tootie looked out onto the yard. Summer was waning, but the morning sun was warm and welcoming. The picturesque way the yard sprawled out toward a gently rolling blueberry field almost offset the peeling paint and sagging wood.

Almost.

When a work truck pulled down the long driveway, I perked up and dusted my palms down the front of my summer dress. I flipped my long brown hair over my shoulder, straightened my back, and painted on a bright, welcoming smile.

If this contractor was as good as Duke had promised, he’d have his work cut out for him, and we’d be spending a lot of time together planning and executing the renovations. I wanted it to be perfect for Aunt Tootie. She deserved as much.

The truck parked, and a large work boot, followed by one long, denim-clad leg, emerged from the vehicle. I squinted against the morning sun but didn’t miss the way the man filled out his jeans.

Holy shit.

He unfolded his tall frame from the cab of the truck.

“Oh my ...” Tootie’s breathless voice snapped my eyes away from the man as he walked toward us, and Tootie’s hand went to her chest.

I elbowed her gently, but I couldn’t help but stare too. His T-shirt was a tight navy blue against a muscular chest, and his biceps strained the fabric. His waist tapered, and my belly did a somersault. Apparently long days of construction work did many,manywonderful things to a man’s body.

My stare moved upward. His face was partially hidden by a baseball cap and dark sunglasses. His mouth was in a firm line as he walked up to greet us.

Tootie fussed and smiled. She waved her arm. “Good morning!”

The man stood in front of us. He was nearly the same height as me despite the fact I was on the steps of the porch.

His frame blocked the harsh rays of the sun, letting me focus on him.

My smile melted away.

Beckett fucking Miller.

My heart rate immediately skyrocketed. Standing before me was my horrible, no-good, heartbreaking, can-rot-in-hell ex-boyfriend’s moody older brother.

He reached out a hand. “Ms. Tootie.”

“Oh!” She fussed and gripped his hand with both of hers and shook them up and down. “Welcome. Come in, please.”

My teeth ground together. Memories of my ex Declan and what he had done burned through my mind.

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