Page 22 of A Tempting Seduction (Protectors of Jasper Creek #5)

Chapter Twelve

The hotel room in Nashville felt like a prison cell. Two weeks of beige walls, stale coffee, and the constant hum of traffic outside my window had worn me down to the bone. I stared at the water damage on the ceiling and counted the hours until I could get back to Jasper Creek.

The only thing that kept me sane were my nightly calls with Ruby.

Every evening around nine, her voice would fill the lonely space, telling me about Jordan's latest attitude problem or how Kristin was turning into the employee she'd always hoped for.

I especially enjoyed hearing about the two high school kids she hired part-time.

They were a riot. Ruby's laugh could chase away the worst day, and hearing about her small victories made this exile bearable.

Last night she'd told me about catching JR trying to teach Suzy how to make coffee during one of her babysitting gigs.

“He had her standing on a chair, explaining that the 'magic brown powder' needed to be just right,” Ruby had said, giggling.

“When I asked what they were doing, JR said they were practicing to help Miss Ruby at work.”

Those stories were sunshine in my day. Ruby's voice was home.

The vandalism at our Nashville construction site had been a nightmare.

Someone had broken in and destroyed tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of custom millwork we'd installed three months ago.

Crown molding ripped from ceilings. Cabinet doors kicked in.

Hardwood flooring gouged with what looked like crowbars.

Insurance would cover the materials, but not the time. Not the stress of coordinating with contractors, adjusting timelines, and dealing with pissed-off clients who wanted their luxury condos finished on schedule.

My phone buzzed with another text from Walker.

Harvey wants to meet tomorrow about some of the specs on the luxury homes. Plus, the Hendersons signed off on their plans - they want to discuss custom millwork ASAP. Can you handle it?

I typed back quickly.

Still in Nashville.

Still? Ford, I'm juggling the development planning with Renzo and Harvey plus this new custom work. Can't keep doing both jobs.

The frustration in his message was clear.

Walker had been handling the Jasper Creek development meetings, going over site plans and infrastructure details with Harvey and Renzo, while also managing our first signed homeowner who wanted extensive custom millwork.

The Hendersons had big ideas and bigger budgets, but they needed handholding through every decision.

I know. I just need a call from Les, with his okay, and I can come home.

Maybe today?

Before I could respond, my phone rang. Ivan's name flashed on the screen.

“Tell me you have good news,” I answered.

“I wish.” Ivan's Ukrainian accent was thicker than usual, which meant he was agitated. “Memphis supplier, they are still giving me runaround. Three weeks now, Ford. Three weeks of promises and excuses.”

I rubbed my temples where a headache was building. “What's Archie saying now?”

“Same bullshit. 'Next week, Ivan. For sure next week.' But I am thinking he sold our cherry lumber to someone else.”

The cherry lumber we needed for the Knoxville job. It was a top-of-the-line luxury home project. We'd contracted for the wood six months ago at a specific price. Premium quarter-sawn cherry that Archie Morrison had promised would be ready when we needed it.

“You think he's selling it for higher prices?”

“What else? Cherry is up thirty percent since we made contract. He could make good money selling elsewhere.”

Rage built in my chest. Archie Morrison had grown up two streets over from us in Jasper Creek.

We'd played Little League together, built tree forts in the woods behind his house.

After high school, he'd moved to Memphis to work in his uncle's lumber business.

When his uncle retired five years ago, Archie had taken over Morrison Lumber.

“I'm going to Memphis,” I said.

“Ford, you already been gone two weeks. Maybe I can handle?—”

“No. This needs to be face to face.”

I ended the call and immediately dialed information for Lionel Lumber in North Carolina. They answered on the second ring.

“This is Ford Larson with Larson Brothers Millwork in Tennessee. I need a quote on quarter-sawn cherry lumber. Twelve hundred board feet, premium grade.”

The price they quoted made me wince, but it was manageable. If Lionel could deliver within two weeks, we could still meet our deadlines.

“I'll get back to you first thing tomorrow morning,” I told them.

I crossed my fingers and called Les. “What’s the good word?”

“Customer did their walk thru. We’re good.”

“Hallelujah.”

“What? You tired of Nashville?” Les teased.

“Maybe a little,” I said with a laugh.

“The woman? Ruby?”

“She might have something to do with it. Now that you gave me the get-out-of-jail-free card, I’m packing up.”

“So back to Jasper Creek?”

“By way of Memphis,” I told the man. After I was done with Les, I called Walker. I told him I could make the meeting with Renzo and Harvey tomorrow morning if he could prep me a half-hour ahead of time. I could hear the glee in my brother’s voice.

After I hung up, I threw my tools and overnight bag into the truck. Memphis was four and a half hours from Nashville. If I left now, I could be at Morrison Lumber by closing time.

The drive gave me plenty of time to think about what I wanted to say to Archie. His betrayal felt personal in a way that pure business disputes never did. We'd trusted each other since we were kids stealing apples from Mrs. Patterson's tree.

Morrison Lumber sat on twelve acres outside Memphis, its weathered buildings surrounded by stacks of lumber that reached toward the cloudy sky.

Archie had inherited the business from his uncle, but he'd expanded it, adding specialty hardwoods that catered to custom furniture makers and high-end contractors and millwork companies like mine.

Archie's pickup truck was parked next to the main office, the same beat-up Ford he'd been driving since high school. I found him in the warehouse, clipboard in hand, talking to a forklift operator.

“Ford!” His face lit up with the kind of guilty pleasure people showed when they were caught doing something they shouldn't. “What brings you to Memphis?”

“Cut the shit, Archie. Where's my cherry lumber?”

His expression shifted, the false cheer evaporating. “Now, Ford, I can explain?—”

“Explain what? How you've been jerking us around for three weeks? How you keep promising delivery dates you can't meet?”

Archie glanced around the warehouse nervously. “Let's take this to my office.”

His office was a cluttered mess of invoices, lumber catalogs, and empty coffee cups. Pictures of his wife and kids covered one wall, reminders of the family responsibilities that probably drove him to make desperate business decisions.

“Times are tough, Ford.” Archie settled behind his desk like it was a barrier between us. “Cherry prices have gone through the roof. I'm barely keeping this place afloat.”

“So, you sold our lumber to someone else.”

“I had to. They offered me forty percent over our contract price. Forty percent! That's the difference between making payroll and laying off three guys.”

I leaned forward in my chair. “We had a contract, Archie. A signed contract with delivery dates.”

“I know, I know. But I figured if I explained the situation, you'd understand. You always were reasonable, even back in Little League when I struck out with the bases loaded.”

“This isn't Little League. This is business. You dicked us around for three weeks, saying you would deliver, when you'd already sold the shit out from under us. Am I right?”

Archie's face flushed red. “Look, I've got more cherry coming in next week. I was going to backfill your order, honest.”

I squinted. “And what would you have done if someone else came along and offered you more for it?”

“I…”

“You weren’t even man enough to tell me the truth. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me what was going on and ask me to pay the current market rate?”

“You would have paid it?” Archie looked incredulous.

“If you told me that you were having trouble making payroll, then yeah, I would have.”

“That’s great. So, the market rate for the wood that’s coming in next week is?—”

“Fuck that noise. If you think I’m going to buy shit from you ever again, you’re out of your mind.”

“But you just said…”

“I said if you had been a man and been straight with me, instead of being a weasel dick. You chose the weasel dick option. You forced me to scramble to find alternative suppliers. We're done, Archie. Larson Brothers won't be doing business with Morrison Lumber anymore.”

The color drained from his face. “Ford, wait. You guys are my number one customer. Twenty percent of my business comes from you and then there are the other contractors who follow your recommendations.”

“You should have considered that when you decided to fuck us over for a couple thousand dollars.”

I headed for the door, but Archie's voice stopped me.

“Come on, man. We go way back. Remember when we built that fort in my backyard? We were partners then.”

I turned back slowly. “Partners don't lie to each other, Archie. Partners don't put money first and throw their friends to the wolves.”

I left Archie sitting in his cluttered office and stomped back to my truck. The anger felt good, cleaner than the frustration I'd been carrying for weeks. Sometimes you had to cut out the rot before it spread.

The drive back to Jasper Creek stretched ahead of me like a promise. I could make the call to Lionel Lumber on the road, place the order for the cherry we needed. By the time I hit the outskirts of Nashville, my phone was ringing. Ruby's name on the screen made something loosen in my chest.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hi.” Her voice was warm honey and home cooking. “I just wanted to check in on you. See how you're holding up.”

“That's the nicest thing I've heard in two weeks.”

“You don't sound right. You sound tense. Maybe even angry.”

Trust Ruby to read me through a phone line. “Just had to deal with an old friend who let me down.”

“What happened?”

I told her about Archie, about the broken contract and the lumber he'd sold out from under us. The betrayal stung worse because we'd grown up together. I'd trusted him the way you trust family.

Ruby was quiet for a long moment after I finished.

Shit! How could I have bitched about Archie after the betrayal she’d suffered? “Ruby, I know it's nothing like what you've gone through.”

“Don't say that.”

“Ruby—”

“This is going to sound bad, but I never really liked my sisters. At least not since my mom died. They hardly came around when she was sick. I never understood how they could be like that. Carla especially. She was always going to some frat party on the weekends instead of coming home to be with mom near the end.”

Her voice carried old pain, the kind that settled deep and never fully healed. I'd opened a door by talking about Archie's betrayal, and Ruby was walking through it.

“As for Lance. You know something, Ford? I never loved him. Truth be told, I never much liked him. I was pushed into getting engaged. It was a political thing.”

My hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What do you mean, political thing?”

Silence stretched across the line as I listened for the slightest sound out of my car speaker. I could feel Ruby pulling back, rebuilding walls I'd just seen her tear down.

“I'll tell you sometime when we're face to face,” she finally said.

“Let me take you out tonight. I should be back in Jasper Creek by eight.”

Ruby laughed, the sound soft and concerned. “You've driven all over the state today. Take me out some other night.”

“I'll take you out tomorrow then.”

She giggled. “I can't do it tomorrow. Fiona's dropping off her kids. She's going out with some friends from the gym.”

An idea formed in my head. “I'll help you babysit.”

“Ford—”

“I'm serious. JR and Suzy love me. We can order pizza, watch a movie, make it fun for all of us.”

“All right,” Ruby said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “I'd like that.”

“Me too. More than you know.”

After we hung up, I pressed the accelerator a little harder. Jasper Creek couldn't come fast enough. Two weeks away from home, from Ruby, from the life I was building felt like two years.

Tomorrow I'd deal with Fiona's kids and stolen moments with Ruby. Tomorrow I'd figure out how to pry more secrets from the woman who was becoming more important to me than air.

But tonight, I just wanted to sleep in my own bed and dream about green eyes and red hair and the sound of Ruby's laughter that had kept me sane through fourteen nights of exile.

The woman who was worth coming home to.