Chapter 1

Chapter

One

Rhett Coleville blew out a heavy breath as he did a walk-through with his foreman, Andy. They were at one of his current builds on a gorgeous bluff twenty feet above the White Pine River in a remote forest northwest of Kalispell. He inhaled the scent of wet sawdust and splashed through a puddle of water.

Water. In the middle of the main floor living room.

He pushed his cowboy hat back and squinted three stories up at the leak. If only they could get the roof finished, the windows installed, and save this project.

They were behind schedule. He hated being behind schedule. He could blame it on the nonstop rain they’d had all spring, the marshy conditions of this exclusive five-million-dollar lot causing extra work for him and the engineers, or his entire framing crew getting food poisoning from that hole in the wall Mexican restaurant they loved to eat at.

There were also the unexplained ‘accidents’ at this site and reported by the other contractors in the riverside development—a box of nails strewn throughout the mud damaging tires on personal vehicles and heavy equipment alike; a fire in his mentor Josh Francis’s new build next door just as they finished framing; every window being smashed on Paul Nash’s build on the north end of the development. He and the other general contractors had hired a security company, the developer had barely contributed to the cost.

Rhett preferred to place the blame where it should lay—on the head of the developer. Sloan Jensen had been annoyingly absent. He only reached out through email, too busy to leave his high-dollar condo in Vegas, which was irritating when a good in-person meeting could get a lot done. Especially with the county who always dragged their feet but were especially unreceptive to an outsider who wouldn’t show his face.

Rhett would love to get a read on who he was working with. He suspected the missing Mr. Jensen had never done a development of this scale before and had no clue what Montana late-winter and early-spring weather and county employees resistant to big developments were like. The rumors he’d heard were that this Sloan Jensen had inherited the property from his grandfather, who’d been living off the grid up here and had passed away a couple years ago. The grandson had then decided to try his hand at developing.

Big mistake. Five of the twenty half-a-million-dollar lots along the hundred-acre stretch had a multi-million dollar house in the planning stages or under construction. The developer was struggling to pin the county planners down and get the infrastructure in place. He was also failing to get road base down leading to the individual sites, let alone pavement. And the weather wasn’t doing any of them any favors. Rhett was tired of being covered with mud from his cowboy boots to his truck tires.

A wolf whistle sounded from one of the roofers three stories above them, startling Rhett out of his irritated thoughts. He couldn’t see the roofer, or who he was whistling at. That kind of whistle typically indicated a gorgeous lady, but it would be crazy for anyone not on his crew to venture out into this rainy, muddy mess.

The homeowners on this particular build had been encouraged by Mr. Jensen to ‘start building as soon as possible so they could enjoy this beautiful recreation spot all summer long’. The uninformed middle-aged couple out of California had insisted on digging the hole the first of March when the snow wasn’t even melted. Rhett always tried to reason with, but not argue with, his clients. Reasoning had failed, however, and with only a few other projects in the finishing stages, he figured he might as well keep his men busy. So he had brought in his heavy equipment, pushed layers of snow and ice out of the away, and his men had prevailed over the frozen quagmire.

The homeowners’ excitement had fizzled quickly. They’d flown back to California and said they’d return when the snow melted and the rain stopped. It was now the end of April. The snow had mostly melted, but the rain hadn’t stopped. Rhett had never seen a spring this wet. He tried to keep the homeowners in the loop with video chats and emails.

He and Andy eased to the massive openings where glass should already be and peered out at the gloomy day to see what had the roofer whistling.

A woman. There actually was a woman out there. She was decked out in a long, fancy pink coat and sky-high heels, picking her way through the muddy ground, trying to avoid the deep puddles. Her tan, lean, bare legs were getting splattered. Rhett hadn’t been able to get a gravel base for the driveway, let alone concrete poured. In that he could relate with the developer. It was a disaster out there.

He couldn’t see the woman’s face, but her brunette curls were sopping from the rain. Where was her hat? Where were her pants? What was she doing wearing those heels and that coat on a construction site? What was she even doing here, miles from civilization and a paved road? It was definitely not his homeowner, and he had no idea why a woman who was dressed all fancy would stray this direction or dare step foot into that muck.

Maybe his little brother Houston was pranking him. The woman would reach them, open her coat to reveal a funny T-shirt that said something like I’m a construction worker, not a magician. I understand you think they’re one and the same . It had been his birthday last week and Houston had missed it. Rhett didn’t care about his birthday, but he could hardly wait for his closest and only single brother to be done with residency and move home at the end of May.

The T-shirt his brother Walker had given him for his birthday had said Don’t worry, Mr. Architect, I’ll make it work and save your job. Again.

Rhett had piles of such T-shirts and wore them every day. It helped make him more relatable to his crews and often dispelled any tension that rose over one problem or another.

Andy let out his own whistle of surprise. “Is she off her rocker?”

Rhett gave him a befuddled look and raised one hand. “Quite possible.”

He strode for the front entry, then hurried out onto the wide concrete porch and down the wood ramps they’d constructed as unfortunately the steps weren’t finished either.

“Ma’am?” he called out as he approached.

She glanced up at him, and all the oxygen fled from his body. Rhett couldn’t swallow past his dry throat as it felt like his oldest brother Sheriff Clint had just gotten a solid hit to his diaphragm. He looked into her deep-brown eyes, shadowed by long dark lashes, wet from the rain, and wondered if the earth was shaking or if it was just an earthquake inside his body.

He quickly checked the house and trees just to make sure. He’d feared a mudslide on this bluff above the river, but the developer had paid for the extensive testing the county required for this location. All the results showed it was solid ground.

Moistening her enticing red lips, the lady stared at him and swayed as if the earth wasn’t stable underneath her fancy heels either.

Her eyes were soft and warm and full of him. She looked him over once, twice, blinked rainwater out of her eyes in the most enticing flutter of eyelashes known to womankind, and then she said in a raspy tenor voice that reverberated through his cells, “Who are you?” As if he were some superhero like Aiden Porter or his Navy SEAL brother Miles who’d married the famous actress Eva Chevron.

“Rhett Coleville, ma’am. It’s a pleasure,” he said, his voice deeper and huskier than hers.

Her gaze became more guarded and not quite as worshipful. Her lips pursed and then she nodded as if she’d come to a decision. “Oh, good. Exactly the man I am looking for.”

Rhett’s stomach did the mamba at those words. This mesmerizing woman was looking for him? All of his brothers except Houston had found their perfect matches during the past year. He knew his mama was praying for him to find his, but he hadn’t realized she’d been praying this diligently. He’d have to send up some prayers of gratitude and give his mama many hugs of thanks.

“Lucky you. You found me.” He spread his hands and gave her his most charming smile, taught to him by his brother Easton, the most ‘rizzy’ of all six brothers.

The woman smiled at that but then her expression grew determined again. She started forward, not watching her step as she was focused on him. Rhett sensed the danger, rocks and mud and roots wanting to grab her pretty pink shoes and rip them from her feet. Why this angel sent from heaven above in answer to his mama’s prayers was wearing those ridiculous heels was a topic for another moment.

He rushed forward.

“Mr. Coleville.” Her eyes showed determination and bravery. “I am—” Her sentence ended in a scream of surprise as her legs went out from under her and she flew onto her backside in the muck.

Rhett was a second too late. He failed to catch her before she splatted. He did make a valiant attempt to not gawk at the long legs she revealed. Her knee-length coat and the tight skirt he could now see underneath inched up well above her knees. He squatted down next to her upper body and asked, “Ma’am? Are you all right?”

Her dark eyes grew brighter as if she were close to tears. Ah, no. Rhett had no sisters. His mama was loving but tough and he’d rarely seen her cry, and he spent most of his days with his crews and a variety of sub-contractors. He had no clue how to respond to feminine tears.

“No, I’m not… ” She pushed out a puff of frustration and then she shook her head. He could see an internal resolution fill her dark eyes. She drew back in a steadying breath and straightened her shoulders. Sitting in the mud as she was, it was an intriguing and fearless look. He was impressed and even more drawn to her.

“I’m fine, Mr. Coleville. Let me just… get back on my feet, somehow.” She looked down at the mud surrounding her, stuck out a finger, withdrew it, and clasped her hands together, as if trying to figure out where to place her hands but terrified to do so.

“Let me help.” He stretched his hands toward her.

“No.” Her voice wasn’t sharp, but it was firm.

Rhett drew back in surprise. Her eyes were as determined as her voice. She gave him a look that dared him to say she couldn’t do it on her own. He held his hands up but stayed in his squatted and nearby position. She arched an eyebrow at him and her eyes darted from the mud to him several times. Then once again it was the frustrated breath out before the resolute drawing in of air.

She gave him a regal nod and a resigned smile. “If you don’t mind, some help would be appreciated.”

Rhett was in awe of her. She was independent, brave, and more intriguing to him than any woman he’d ever met.

“Happy to help.” Rhett wrapped his hands around her waist and easily lifted her back onto her feet. She smelled like his mama’s gardenias, the rich, heady scent like nectar from heaven.

The woman placed her hands on his chest. Rhett knew it was to steady herself, but she gave a little gasp and her mouth parted. She stared up at him as if he were the most alluring man on the planet. Her palms and fingers seemed to sear through his damp T-shirt. His pulse sped up and his skin tingled with an unfamiliar warmth. His cowboy hat sheltered both of them from the rain and the world. They were in a sanctuary for only the two of them and he never wanted to leave.

Until he heard a low wolf whistle and some laughter from the roofers. He turned and gave them a pointed look. Rhett was well-liked by all of his crews, but sometimes he had to be stern. The small crowd sobered, exchanged glances and some muttered words, pivoted, and got back to work laying shingles.

Focusing back on the exquisite and muddy lady in front of him, he lost the ability to speak for a moment as their eyes met and held. His grip tightened on her waist, and he was moments away from drawing her closer.

He’d never been captivated so quickly by any of the beautiful, sweet, and accomplished ladies he’d dated.

“You are just a tough and alluring cowboy, aren’t you, Mr. Coleville?” she asked in that breathy and husky tenor that had first drawn him in. He’d never heard a woman’s voice so deep and unbelievably enticing.

“I try, ma’am. I surely do.”

She smiled and the rays of heaven broke through the dark, thunderous skies. He thought he might have found his future, wrapped in a muddy pink coat and teetering on sky high pink heels. His new sisters-in-law would love her.

“You’re very successful at it, Mr. Coleville,” she said softly, her gaze straying down to his lips before meeting his eyes again.

“Rhett, please.”

“Rhett,” she repeated in a sultry tone, and his own name made his blood turn to liquid lava.

What was happening to him? Were Mama’s prayers coming true or was he being bewitched by an angel who was sorely out of place on this quagmire of a construction site?

“Let’s get you back to your vehicle, ma’am,” he said, wishing he knew her name but wanting to ask in a way that furthered the flirtations they’d already shared.

He started to turn her with his arm, but she held onto him, running her hands over his chest muscles and up to his shoulders and making the world spin in the best way possible.

“No, please.” That throaty voice did a number on his mind. He’d do anything she wanted or needed. “I need to come inside.”

“Why?”

Anything except take her inside. His crew and the sub-contractors were great guys, but they were mostly single, twenty-something roughnecks. He didn’t want this alluring lady any nearer to them than she already was. The wolf whistles from earlier would just be the beginning. He could keep them under control, but it wouldn’t be enjoyable for her or him. He was no kind of idiot to place an innocent and misguided sheep in the midst of a wolf pack.

“I’ve just arrived from Vegas,” she said.

Her red lips formed the words, but his mind was having difficulty processing them. Vegas? His neck tingled, but not from her appeal at the moment.

“Yes. I’m here to get all these construction projects back on track.”

“Pardon me?” His spine stiffened. He’d be more than happy to tell her why the construction projects were not on track, and he knew the other four builders working along this bluff agreed with him.

“Yes. You.” She pointed at him. “Not just you, but all the general contractors are falling behind. We can’t have that. The homeowners are frustrated and inundating me with complaints. I’m here to make everything proceed smoothly.”

Rhett released her and stepped back. She toddled on her heels but luckily didn’t go down. She looked beautiful, vulnerable, muddy, and sorely out of place. So she’d been sent here by Sloan Jensen and thought she could make things proceed smoothly? The other contractors would not appreciate her showing up like an out of place runway model. They would tell her to head on back to Vegas and let her boss be man enough to come deal with his own mess. If their crews or subs found out who she was, most of them would flirt with or harass her. He had to set her straight and keep her from wandering onto any other sites alone and unprotected. He didn’t think any of the workers would hurt her, but they would definitely hit on her and push further than a classy woman like this would feel comfortable with.

“There have been some setbacks on our personal job sites,” he admitted tightly, “but the bigger problem is that the developer got it in these homeowners’ heads that we could plow through construction in late winter and early spring in the mountains of Montana. Obviously Sloan Jensen has no idea what Montana weather is like, and he certainly has no idea that custom builds of this size take almost a year to complete. Even if we weren’t in a quagmire, these people wouldn’t be in their houses this summer.” He gestured at the rain and muck, some pockets of snow lingering in the trees. He shook his head and pushed out a disgusted breath, even as her face tightened and her lips thinned. “Another huge issue is we have no power or paved roads.”

The wells also needed to be dug and septic tanks installed. That was an issue they’d have to deal with later, but thankfully that didn’t affect the project yet.

“Do you know what a pain it is to do a project of this size with generators? Do you have any idea how many concrete mixers, pump trucks, delivery trucks, and other heavy equipment—not to mention personal vehicles—have gotten stuck in this mess?” He gestured to the subdivision’s road they couldn’t see through the thick trees and his disaster of a driveway. “I’m assuming you work for Sloan Jensen and the wuss sent you here to represent him, thinking all of us slow Montana contractors would fall for a pair of pretty eyes and legs and take the blame instead of him with the homeowners. I’m here to tell you he’s wrong. For your own emotional and physical safety, I’d suggest you head on back to Vegas.”

He ran out of words, his frustration somewhat mollified by being able to express it. Her pretty dark eyes were now shooting fire at him. Was she deeply invested in this Sloan Jensen? What if she was dating him, married to him? Would the dimwit send his wife or girlfriend alone to face five ticked-off contractors and unbending county bureaucrats?

A quick glance at her left hand showed no ring on an essential finger. A fancy lady like this would definitely wear a gorgeous diamond ring. If she were his, he’d buy a bigger rock than even his brothers had, not wanting anyone to miss seeing that diamond and try to hit on his wife.

Shaking his head, he saw large drops of water fly off his hat. He’d been insanely drawn to and impressed by her. He’d let himself believe they had a special connection. But if she was going to come in here and try to place the blame on him and the other generals when Mr. Jensen could shoulder his fair share of responsibility, Rhett would stand up for himself and his friends.

The beauty blinked at him again, and he feared for the second time in the past few minutes that the water works were going to start.

Once again, the woman impressed him. She blinked quickly, stood tall on her heels, still four or five inches shorter than his six-four, and gave him an impertinent glare that he couldn’t help but respect. He’d much rather have her looking doe-eyed at him like she had when she’d said he was a tough and alluring cowboy. That moment had unfortunately passed.

“Mr. Coleville,” she said in her appealing tenor, dropping the Rhett once again. “I am Sloan Jensen.”

The earth shook under Rhett’s boots again.

The dark-eyed, husky-voiced, too-fancy, out-of-place beauty who’d thrown him for a loop … was the developer and entrepreneur out of Vegas.

Rhett let out a long breath. Mama’s prayers were not working on his behalf after all.