If I Can't Have You
Chapter One
Ben Masters measured again before cutting the piece of lumber. The walls weren’t square, nothing was square, but if he wanted square, he wouldn’t have purchased an old building to renovate.
The phone in his back pocket buzzed. A text from Doug. It’s broken. No hammer time for a couple months. Sorry.
Damn. His brother’s skiing accident was bad news for both of them.
Ben texted back. No worries.
The lumber, tools, and everything else required to renovate a 150-year-old building and turn it into a restaurant and bar would be hard to shift on his own. This was a minimum two-man job. Maybe he should hire a crew like everyone suggested. He had the money, no question there.
Except he wanted to put his own sweat into his dream. Do most of the work with Doug’s help like always. Plus, the fewer people involved, the less risk of secrets getting exposed.
Freezing rain clattered against the windows facing the street. Sidewalks would be slick. He grabbed the bag of road salt, opened the front door, and inhaled cold, fresh, briny air. Only the sound of frozen rain hitting the ground broke the stillness. Weird how the slower pace of MacLeod’s Cove was growing on him. A city boy all his life, he had envisioned dividing his time between Halifax and wherever he happened to be. But now he was inclined to sell that enormous house in the city. Who needed eight bathrooms? He grabbed a handful of salt and tossed it on his front step.
A woman turned the corner at the end of the block, slipping and sliding and grinning from ear to ear. Man, she was cute.
Look away.
He tossed more salt on the next step down. He wasn't looking for a relationship. Maybe in a few years. Maybe he could fade into the background, meet someone who liked him for more than his money. Yeah, like that would happen.
A few feet from his front door, the woman lost her footing and fell on her rear end.
He dropped the bag and skidded down the steps.
Jinny Hardwick yelped. Leave it to Miss Klutz of MacLeod’s Cove to fall on her ass. At least the icy surface was a good excuse. The last time she fell on her ass was on a dry day in October.
“I’ve never had a woman fall at my feet before.” A man held out his hand.
She took the offered hand and eased to her feet. Nothing broken. A miracle she’d lived this long without a serious injury, though not for lack of trying.
“Are you okay?”
She peered out from under her hat brim at the man. A man she’d never seen before. A scrumptious man getting wet. “Yes, thanks. You should go—”
“Come inside and make sure.”
Her car was at the far end of the next block, and she could use a minute to collect herself. “Yes, thanks.” And spending a few minutes with the gorgeous man was the least she could do. He had come to her rescue.
Jinny hobbled inside the old building. She rubbed her rear end while taking in the walls stripped to the studs, scuffed floors, new lumber piled here and there, tools of various sorts scattered around, and bare bulbs suspended from the ceiling.
The man held out his hand. “I’m Ben Masters.”
She pulled off her glove and shook his hand, large and strong and warm. “Jinny Hardwick. Thanks for your help.”
“Short for Virginia?”
“Jinnifer. Mom was in Amsterdam when she discovered she was pregnant, and she loved the sound of their word for gin. Spelled differently, of course. Mine is like Jennifer, with a letter changed.” This wasn’t the first time she’d explained her name, and the words fell off her tongue.
“I like names that have a special story attached. Are you any relation to Hardwick Farm Brewery?”
“My brother’s business. I’m his one employee.”
“The stout is great.”
She grinned. “That’s my favourite, too.” She gestured to the mess. “What’s this going to be?”
His smile broadened. The beauty of his face stole her breath. Not male model beautiful, but real-world handsome and beaming with happiness. “This floor will be a restaurant and bar, casual dining, local fare. The second floor will be a social club for teenagers.”
“Very cool.”
He went on to explain about the separate entrance for the kids and all the things he hoped to provide for them. His dark eyes and broad smile telegraphed his excitement. His cuteness skyrocketed. She’d swear a minor earthquake had been centred below the town, below this very building. And then there was his body. Strong and tall and … wow.
She tore her gaze away before she embarrassed herself. “Where’s everyone else?” She expected to see a couple more tool-belt-wearing dudes with pencils tucked behind their ears. But the place was silent. Eerie. She was alone with a stranger. But rather than nervous, she was comfortable. Like she’d known this guy for years and not the four and a half minutes since she fell on her tush. She hoped that wasn’t how the victims felt when they met Bundy.
“Funny you should ask. My brother, who is the rest of my crew, has a brand new cast on his right arm and he’s right-handed.”
“Dang, that’s too bad. Wait … it can’t be just two of you.”
“I enjoy the work, the challenge. Got the whole winter to finish.” He shrugged. “But an extra pair of hands would come in handy.”
Jinny admired that work ethic because she also had to finish what she started. She also enjoyed creating things. Too bad enthusiasm didn’t always equal skill. Nine times out of ten, her crafting attempts didn’t resemble the photo on the instructions. Case in point, her current project. Surely there was someone out there with feet of different sizes who needed new socks.
She glanced around again and then back at the gorgeous hunk of manhood. Did she dare? She was looking for a new job and here was a job opening. “I know someone who’s looking for work.”
“Can you give me his number?”
“He’s a she, and you’re looking at her.”
His brows rose to the ceiling, or near enough. “Yeah?”
“I come cheap, I need the job, and you’d be helping me out.”
“Helping you out how?”
“I need to get out of my brother’s house.” She laughed. “And I need the money.” And she needed to do something other than coast through life. At the rate she was going, she’d run out of momentum and be stuck at the bottom of a hill just waiting for a rockfall to land on her head.
“What about your job at the brewery?”
“Very part time. I can easily do both.”
“You’ve done carpentry before?”
“I’ve dabbled.” Kind of. “Not formally trained, but living on an old farm and helping build the brewery gave me experience with a hammer.” Sort of. More ripping out nails than pounding them in. Landing this job had suddenly become as important as her next bar of chocolate, and that was pretty darn important. “I’ll take minimum wage.”
He shook his head. “Can’t do that.”
Dang.
“I’ll hire you for a one-month probationary period, at five bucks an hour above minimum.”
She snort-laughed. “Shut up.” What was it with this guy?
“I’m serious.”
“Too much.” She didn’t mind stretching the truth, but refused to earn more than she was worth.
“You’ll need the extra cash to get outfitted unless you already own safety boots, safety glasses, and proper gloves.”
Good point. All that stuff would be expensive. She told her guilty conscience to shut up and held out her hand. “Deal.”
A quick handshake, further discussion about the job, and she left the building. If the sidewalks weren’t a skating rink, she’d attempt one of those heel-clicking hops. Now to practice her hammer skills, once she bought a hammer.
The cautious drive home over icy, slushy roads gave Jinny time to reconsider.
What the heck have you done, Jinnifer? You know nothing about renovating a building.
A colossal mistake.
She’d be fired on day one.
But still she fizzed with excitement at the challenge ahead, trying something new.
She also fizzed at the image of Ben, tall, cute as heck, and strong. That smile … those eyes …
Shut the fizz off.
This was a job and nothing but a job. And temporary.
The lights were off in the old barn when she got home. Nate must have finished his brewery work for the day. She carried the bags from her car into the house. Slinky eased to her feet from her bed under the kitchen table and limped to the door.
“Hiya, girlie. You have a good day? Poor old thing.” Jinny ruffled the dog’s shaggy fur and kissed her nose. “Just wait until you see what I bought.” After kicking off her boots and hanging her coat on a hook, she dumped the contents of her bags on the kitchen table. The hammer had a smaller grip to fit her hand. The flat pencil was bright orange, therefore harder to lose, according to the guy at the store. But he didn’t inhabit her world where pens and pencils vaporized. A bright yellow measuring tape, also harder to lose, and something called a speed square. The leather tool belt to hold it all had one large pouch plus multiple loops for tools.
She’d finished lacing her new boots when Nate came in from the dining room, his office space for the brewery. “What’s all this?”
Chapter One
Ben Masters measured again before cutting the piece of lumber. The walls weren’t square, nothing was square, but if he wanted square, he wouldn’t have purchased an old building to renovate.
The phone in his back pocket buzzed. A text from Doug. It’s broken. No hammer time for a couple months. Sorry.
Damn. His brother’s skiing accident was bad news for both of them.
Ben texted back. No worries.
The lumber, tools, and everything else required to renovate a 150-year-old building and turn it into a restaurant and bar would be hard to shift on his own. This was a minimum two-man job. Maybe he should hire a crew like everyone suggested. He had the money, no question there.
Except he wanted to put his own sweat into his dream. Do most of the work with Doug’s help like always. Plus, the fewer people involved, the less risk of secrets getting exposed.
Freezing rain clattered against the windows facing the street. Sidewalks would be slick. He grabbed the bag of road salt, opened the front door, and inhaled cold, fresh, briny air. Only the sound of frozen rain hitting the ground broke the stillness. Weird how the slower pace of MacLeod’s Cove was growing on him. A city boy all his life, he had envisioned dividing his time between Halifax and wherever he happened to be. But now he was inclined to sell that enormous house in the city. Who needed eight bathrooms? He grabbed a handful of salt and tossed it on his front step.
A woman turned the corner at the end of the block, slipping and sliding and grinning from ear to ear. Man, she was cute.
Look away.
He tossed more salt on the next step down. He wasn't looking for a relationship. Maybe in a few years. Maybe he could fade into the background, meet someone who liked him for more than his money. Yeah, like that would happen.
A few feet from his front door, the woman lost her footing and fell on her rear end.
He dropped the bag and skidded down the steps.
Jinny Hardwick yelped. Leave it to Miss Klutz of MacLeod’s Cove to fall on her ass. At least the icy surface was a good excuse. The last time she fell on her ass was on a dry day in October.
“I’ve never had a woman fall at my feet before.” A man held out his hand.
She took the offered hand and eased to her feet. Nothing broken. A miracle she’d lived this long without a serious injury, though not for lack of trying.
“Are you okay?”
She peered out from under her hat brim at the man. A man she’d never seen before. A scrumptious man getting wet. “Yes, thanks. You should go—”
“Come inside and make sure.”
Her car was at the far end of the next block, and she could use a minute to collect herself. “Yes, thanks.” And spending a few minutes with the gorgeous man was the least she could do. He had come to her rescue.
Jinny hobbled inside the old building. She rubbed her rear end while taking in the walls stripped to the studs, scuffed floors, new lumber piled here and there, tools of various sorts scattered around, and bare bulbs suspended from the ceiling.
The man held out his hand. “I’m Ben Masters.”
She pulled off her glove and shook his hand, large and strong and warm. “Jinny Hardwick. Thanks for your help.”
“Short for Virginia?”
“Jinnifer. Mom was in Amsterdam when she discovered she was pregnant, and she loved the sound of their word for gin. Spelled differently, of course. Mine is like Jennifer, with a letter changed.” This wasn’t the first time she’d explained her name, and the words fell off her tongue.
“I like names that have a special story attached. Are you any relation to Hardwick Farm Brewery?”
“My brother’s business. I’m his one employee.”
“The stout is great.”
She grinned. “That’s my favourite, too.” She gestured to the mess. “What’s this going to be?”
His smile broadened. The beauty of his face stole her breath. Not male model beautiful, but real-world handsome and beaming with happiness. “This floor will be a restaurant and bar, casual dining, local fare. The second floor will be a social club for teenagers.”
“Very cool.”
He went on to explain about the separate entrance for the kids and all the things he hoped to provide for them. His dark eyes and broad smile telegraphed his excitement. His cuteness skyrocketed. She’d swear a minor earthquake had been centred below the town, below this very building. And then there was his body. Strong and tall and … wow.
She tore her gaze away before she embarrassed herself. “Where’s everyone else?” She expected to see a couple more tool-belt-wearing dudes with pencils tucked behind their ears. But the place was silent. Eerie. She was alone with a stranger. But rather than nervous, she was comfortable. Like she’d known this guy for years and not the four and a half minutes since she fell on her tush. She hoped that wasn’t how the victims felt when they met Bundy.
“Funny you should ask. My brother, who is the rest of my crew, has a brand new cast on his right arm and he’s right-handed.”
“Dang, that’s too bad. Wait … it can’t be just two of you.”
“I enjoy the work, the challenge. Got the whole winter to finish.” He shrugged. “But an extra pair of hands would come in handy.”
Jinny admired that work ethic because she also had to finish what she started. She also enjoyed creating things. Too bad enthusiasm didn’t always equal skill. Nine times out of ten, her crafting attempts didn’t resemble the photo on the instructions. Case in point, her current project. Surely there was someone out there with feet of different sizes who needed new socks.
She glanced around again and then back at the gorgeous hunk of manhood. Did she dare? She was looking for a new job and here was a job opening. “I know someone who’s looking for work.”
“Can you give me his number?”
“He’s a she, and you’re looking at her.”
His brows rose to the ceiling, or near enough. “Yeah?”
“I come cheap, I need the job, and you’d be helping me out.”
“Helping you out how?”
“I need to get out of my brother’s house.” She laughed. “And I need the money.” And she needed to do something other than coast through life. At the rate she was going, she’d run out of momentum and be stuck at the bottom of a hill just waiting for a rockfall to land on her head.
“What about your job at the brewery?”
“Very part time. I can easily do both.”
“You’ve done carpentry before?”
“I’ve dabbled.” Kind of. “Not formally trained, but living on an old farm and helping build the brewery gave me experience with a hammer.” Sort of. More ripping out nails than pounding them in. Landing this job had suddenly become as important as her next bar of chocolate, and that was pretty darn important. “I’ll take minimum wage.”
He shook his head. “Can’t do that.”
Dang.
“I’ll hire you for a one-month probationary period, at five bucks an hour above minimum.”
She snort-laughed. “Shut up.” What was it with this guy?
“I’m serious.”
“Too much.” She didn’t mind stretching the truth, but refused to earn more than she was worth.
“You’ll need the extra cash to get outfitted unless you already own safety boots, safety glasses, and proper gloves.”
Good point. All that stuff would be expensive. She told her guilty conscience to shut up and held out her hand. “Deal.”
A quick handshake, further discussion about the job, and she left the building. If the sidewalks weren’t a skating rink, she’d attempt one of those heel-clicking hops. Now to practice her hammer skills, once she bought a hammer.
The cautious drive home over icy, slushy roads gave Jinny time to reconsider.
What the heck have you done, Jinnifer? You know nothing about renovating a building.
A colossal mistake.
She’d be fired on day one.
But still she fizzed with excitement at the challenge ahead, trying something new.
She also fizzed at the image of Ben, tall, cute as heck, and strong. That smile … those eyes …
Shut the fizz off.
This was a job and nothing but a job. And temporary.
The lights were off in the old barn when she got home. Nate must have finished his brewery work for the day. She carried the bags from her car into the house. Slinky eased to her feet from her bed under the kitchen table and limped to the door.
“Hiya, girlie. You have a good day? Poor old thing.” Jinny ruffled the dog’s shaggy fur and kissed her nose. “Just wait until you see what I bought.” After kicking off her boots and hanging her coat on a hook, she dumped the contents of her bags on the kitchen table. The hammer had a smaller grip to fit her hand. The flat pencil was bright orange, therefore harder to lose, according to the guy at the store. But he didn’t inhabit her world where pens and pencils vaporized. A bright yellow measuring tape, also harder to lose, and something called a speed square. The leather tool belt to hold it all had one large pouch plus multiple loops for tools.
She’d finished lacing her new boots when Nate came in from the dining room, his office space for the brewery. “What’s all this?”