All Jacked Up (Rough Riders #8)(18)

“Far as I can tell, none of you are licensed with the Wyoming Historical Society to facilitate the approval of my remodeling plans. Jack is. So all you, Cord, Colby, Colt, Carter, Kade, Buck, Quinn, and Ben could’ve done is tell me the building needs a shitload of work, which I already knew. To be fair, I did talk to Chet and Remy, so I rounded up all the expert help I needed on the construction front. What I need from you right now is your support in other ways.”


“Such as?”


“Don’t give me grief about my engagement to Jack. He’s my…choice.”


“Fine. I’ll drop it for now. But I’m still writing you a ticket for reckless driving.”


Keely would gladly take the two hundred dollar fine instead of subjecting herself to Cam’s continued scrutiny. She smiled. “Where do I sign?”


Jack pulled up behind his BMW in the parking lot of the Brewster Building and did a visual sweep for damages. Lucky for that mouthy cowgirl, everything looked fine.


He re-secured the tie-downs over the boxes in the back of the truck and grabbed his clipboard before heading up the steps.


Inside, he let the ambience of the past and the promise of the future wash over him. Sometimes when he stood in an old building, he swore the energy of previous inhabitants surrounded him. Guiding him to consider the past. This project was no different, despite the bizarre circumstances.


Jack glanced at the painted tin ceiling. Made notes. He checked the buckled walls. Every inch of the lathe and plaster had to come out. Ripping out the plumbing upstairs would fix the water damage problems.


He wandered, half-listening to the banging and clanking of tools.


A long staircase spiraled up the right side, ending in a balcony. The curved banister was in decent shape, although the wooden balustrades were missing. He’d need a specific solution for those repairs on the remodel plans. Since the staircase was the architectural focal point of the room, it needed to retain as much of the original design as possible.


He’d scrawled another question about replacing the individual glass windows fronting the offices on the balcony, when Keely barreled around the corner, carrying a rotting chunk of plasterboard. She heaved it out the side door with a grunt. “Gross-ass shit.”


“What was it?”


She gasped and whirled around. “Whoa. I didn’t know you were here.”


“I guessed that. What were you tossing out?”


“Somebody put a moldy chunk of Sheetrock in front of the old boiler access and it sealed shut, probably with the help of a gallon of mouse piss.” She shuddered. “Nasty, smelly mess.”


“Are Chet and Remy around?”


“Yeah.” Keely whistled shrilly. “Guys! Jack is here.”


Jack winced. “A warning about your deafening whistle might be in order next time.”


“Where would be the fun in that?”


Two guys bounded down the stairs. Both mid-thirties. The tall, stocky man had curly light brown hair and dark eyes. The shorter, stockier man had curly dark brown hair and light eyes. Jack vaguely remembered meeting them at Carter’s wedding. He thrust out his hand. “Jack Donohue. Full Circle Consulting.”


The taller guy spoke first. “Chet West. West Construction.”


The shorter guy inserted himself between them. “Remy West, also of West Construction. Cousin Keely here told us you own the Sandstone Building. Is that true?”


Jack nodded. “You guys did a great job on that remodel.”


“Like we had a choice,” Chet said. “Now I know why you were such a hardass on approving the plans. Architects as owners are construction guys’ worst nightmare.”


“And yet you’re back for more.”


Remy smiled. “We ain’t dumb. You may be a pain in the butt, but you paid top dollar and gave us a good recommendation.”


“How come I didn’t know that?” Keely demanded of her cousins.



“Because we keep our mouths shut. No matter what.” Chet’s gaze moved between Keely and Jack.


“So can you. Keely never once mentioned being involved with you on a personal level. She played all coy and secretive about her ‘expert’ help.”


Jack lifted a brow at Keely. “We’ve been discreet, haven’t we, buttercup? Now we’re engaged and there’s no denying I’m a lucky man.” When he attempted to put his arm around her, she flinched. Damn woman could at least pretend his touch didn’t repulse her. Just to be ornery, he jerked her to his side, keeping their bodies touching. “Come on, Keely, no need to act shy. We are with family.” He kissed the top of her head. “It’s sweet how much she really is the blushing-bride type beneath that blustering cowgirl exterior.”


Keely froze, then stiffened with anger.


Jack wondered if he should’ve worn a cup.


Chet addressed Keely. “Aunt Caro is throwing a big bash for you guys, huh?”


“Next weekend. We’d love for you to come, but I’ll warn ya, my brothers will be gunning for you.”


“Why?”