Baby, Don't Go. Stephanie BondЧитать онлайн книгу.
away dinner plans. Go ahead, Marcus.”
Marcus gave him a flat smile. “Thanks. As I was saying—”
Another song erupted in the room, this one blue-grass. “Baby, come home…baby, come home,” the tenor crooned before Kendall could get to his phone. “Just a minute, that’s Amy.” He connected the call. “Hi, baby, what do you need?”
Marcus pushed his tongue into his cheek. His other brother, Kendall, had recently reunited with his first love, Amy Bradshaw, an engineer who’d returned to Sweetness to rebuild the Evermore covered bridge and, to Kendall’s surprise, had revealed the existence of their twelve-year-old son, Tony. After a bumpy start, the three were now a family, although Kendall, too, was feeling the pressure to marry and make it official.
Marcus could add his brothers to the pile of love-addled workers who strung into the men’s barracks late every night because they couldn’t bear to leave their girlfriends.
And while he was happy enough for his brothers, in the scheme of things, having the influx of women here in Sweetness had been a royal pain in his ass. Sure, they had helped to move the town forward in some areas, but overall, they were a huge distraction from getting work done, and the to-do list to meet the federal deadline in six months was still long enough to keep him awake at night. If at that time they hadn’t achieved a level of expected success in manufacturing and infrastructure, the land within the city limits and everything on it reverted back to the government and the future of Sweetness would be out of their hands.
Marcus glanced at his watch. But apparently, he was the only person concerned about yet another day getting away from them. He glared at Kendall and gestured with a rolling motion to hurry the hell up.
Kendall wrapped up the call and closed his phone. “Sorry about that. Amy wanted to firm up plans for dinner, too. We’re all eating together tonight at the boardinghouse, Marcus. Join us.”
“Yeah, join us,” Porter said.
“No, thanks,” Marcus said, less than thrilled at the idea of being the fifth wheel to their foursome… again. “And do you think the two of you could get rid of those pansy ringtones?” He gestured to the office door. “Maybe we should take the day off to look for the balls both of you seem to have misplaced.”
Porter grinned. “One of these days, brother, you’re going to meet someone who will inspire their own ringtone.”
“Someone you’ll be happy to hand your stones to,” Kendall added.
“Right,” Marcus said dryly. “That’s never gonna happen.”
Porter looked at Kendall. “Famous last words.”
Kendall made a rueful noise. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
“Can we get back to work?” Marcus barked.
Porter scoffed. “Lighten up, Marcus. We’ve made tremendous progress in the past few months. We can afford to relax a little.”
“I have to agree,” Kendall said. “The bank will be open any day now, that’s huge. Dr. Devine’s laboratory is underway, and he’s been written up in at least six national newspapers. The General Store has expanded, and now we have a pharmacy in the clinic. Our mulching business has doubled again in the last six months. The recycling plant is hiring. We’re breaking ground on the hotel today. We have a new fire truck and fire hydrants on the sidewalks my beautiful fiancée built for us.” He smiled a proud smile. “And our population is growing every month.” He pointed to the black chalk board next to the door exhibiting the number “845.”
“The hair salon is busy, too,” Porter added.
“Well, that’s a huge relief,” Marcus said dryly.
“I’m just saying that at this rate, the strip of retail stores we built will be filled in no time.”
“We have business applications now for a tax preparer, a real estate broker, a shoe store and a bakery,” Kendall added.
“Any applications for a Justice of the Peace?” Marcus asked. “Because we have to have a peacekeeper in residence before the deadline.”
“No,” Kendall said. “But Regina Watts, the recruiter who’s been helping us get word out about open positions, is working on it. The problem is, the salary we’re offering is a tad less than what the market is paying.”
“How much less?”
“The average salary for a Justice of the Peace is about fifty grand…and our budget only allows for fifty dollars. Regina’s hoping to find an attorney who’s retired…or independently wealthy.”
Marcus sighed. “Keep me posted.” He looked at Porter. “When will the church be completed?”
Porter squirmed in his chair. “The basement is finished. The building sections are supposed to be here by the end of next week.”
Kendall clapped Porter on the shoulder. “Does that mean a proposal is on the horizon?”
Porter frowned. “Nikki and I aren’t in a hurry to tie the knot.”
“Really? So you don’t mind if I mention it tonight at dinner?”
Porter’s frown deepened. “I’d rather you didn’t. Have you and Amy set a date?”
“Not yet,” Kendall admitted. “But she knows how I feel.”
Marcus grunted. “The whole damn town knows how you two fools feel—you spray-painted it all over our water tower!”
Kendall shrugged. “I couldn’t let Porter show me up. But at least I’ve already asked and gotten my answer.”
“I’m not worried about Nikki saying yes,” Porter said with a nervous little laugh.
“Then why haven’t you broken ground on your house?” Kendall asked.
“Why haven’t you broken ground on your house?” Porter retorted.
“Girls,” Marcus snapped, “can you save the chitchat for later?”
Porter straightened in his chair. “There are plenty of other couples waiting for the church to be built. The place will be stampeded.”
“Then I guess you’d better be finding us a minister, too,” Marcus said to Porter.
Porter sighed. “Okay.”
Kendall smiled into his hand. “Before the marriages get underway, we’re going to have to turn one wing of the boardinghouse into a family wing. And we need someone dedicated to managing the house. It’s getting too much for the volunteers to keep up with.”
Marcus nodded and made a note of it on his list. “What else?”
“The tourist traffic to see the covered bridge has ballooned,” Kendall added. “I see more strangers in town every day.”
“Which brings us to our most pressing problem,” Porter piped up. “The diner. We aren’t prepared to feed tourists. Or the crowd we’re expecting for Homecoming weekend.”
“Right,” Kendall said. “Plus the Department of Energy representative will be back any day for another inspection, and we need to pass with flying colors. If we could make sure there’s no food fight in the diner this time, that would be a plus.”
Porter laughed. “We’ll have to keep Colonel Molly and Rachel Hutchins at opposite ends of town.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Kendall said. “I noticed Rachel’s been hanging around Devine’s laboratory quite a bit since he moved in.”
“Much to Dr. Cross’s consternation,” Porter added.
Marcus frowned. “What does one thing have to do with the other?”
“Didn’t you know?” Porter