Her Sister's Secret Life

Steve Lindstrom liked getting to the job site before the rest of his crew. This first, solitary half hour gave him a chance to look around without someone bugging him with a question about building specs or material deliveries. He could savor the progress of something born of his vision, his investment and--in large part--by his own sweat. He stood by his truck, sipping his coffee as he watched the streaky pink-and-gold sunrise fade quickly above the jagged ridge of the Cascade Mountains far to the east. Construction was always a gamble, but a hot market and his own growing reputation had enabled him to buy this piece of choice view property. On it rose a sprawling wooden skeleton that was slowly becoming his fanciest house yet, as well as his largest financial gamble to date. Nearby stood another house, nearly as grand and almost completed. Since Steve had first begun working as a framer during summer vacations, the work had always given him a sense of accomplishment that was nearly as sweet as throwing a football into his receiver's waiting hands or acing a tough exam. Now he was the boss. The control, the decisions and the headaches connected with Lindstrom Construction were his responsibility. From Admiralty Inlet, where sailboats dotted the choppy water, came a light breeze scented with salt and sunshine. Above a nearby stand of arrow-straight Douglas fir trees, an eagle soared. Its white head was easy to identify against the blue sky, its wingspan a sight to behold. For the moment, a sense of peace settled on the clearing with its ribbon of road and two new buildings. Setting aside his empty mug, Steve grabbed a clipboard and scowled at his notes on material shipments and subcontractors' schedules. Juggling two projects was taking its toll. One late delivery, one installation problem, and his time frame would collapse like a row of dominoes. Since he'd heard that Lily Mayfield was back in town, his concentration had been shot to hell when he needed it the most. The possibility of running into her nagged him like the dull throb of a bad tooth. Over the years, his memories of Lily had begun to fade, but the possibility of turning a corner and running into her again, of drowning in her sky-blue eyes and getting drunk on her scent, made him think of little else. He kicked aside a fist-sized rock so that no one would trip on it, wishing he had an excuse to swing a sledgehammer and demolish something instead of making nice with his designer and soothing his nervous banker's nerves. As Steve checked out the three-car garage that had been framed in yesterday, the sound of a truck engine cut into his concentration. He looked up to see his friend Wade Garrett's pickup coming down the long dirt driveway. Slowly, it bounced over the ruts to avoid raising dust. Wade had been bunking at Steve's house, but he hadn't found his way home last night. Steve watched Wade park his rig and walk up the driveway. He was as tall as Steve, but leaner in his T-shirt and faded jeans. A baseball cap covered his cropped black hair. The grin on his angular face was that of a man who had recently rolled out of someone else's bed after a night of memorable sex. Steve felt a twinge of envy. When was the last time he'd had terrific sex--or any sex at all? He could barely remember. "I didn't expect you to be here today," Steve said as Wade joined him. Wade worked for him part-time, but lately he'd been talking about returning to his former profession of investment broker. "I'm not working today, old buddy. I'm celebrating." Wade slapped Steve's back enthusiastically. "If it wasn't so damned early, I'd buy you a beer." Steve eyed his scruffy-jawed friend warily. "You just win the lottery or get laid by a high-priced hooker?" he drawled. In the few months he'd known Wade, Steve couldn't remember ever seeing him so fired up. In fact, he'd been moping around since a recent breakup with his giToth, Pamela is the author of 'Her Sister's Secret Life ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373248056 and ISBN 0373248059.