Twisted Up (Taking Chances #1) - Erin Nicholas Page 0,75

about you?” Dillon asked.

“That’s creepy,” Max told him.

Dillon shrugged. “The human mind is a scary place.”

“Some more than others,” Max added.

“For sure,” Dillon said, pointing a finger at Max’s nose.

Max grunted. Then he eyed the work Jake had done on the roof so far and grunted again.

Jake looked from the shingles to Max. “What?”

Max lifted a shoulder. “You’re good. If you ever decide to leave that fancy desk job in KC, let me know.”

“Fancy . . .” Jake trailed off. He knew damned well Jake didn’t spend all his time behind a desk, and it wasn’t fancy. He dug through debris, much like he was doing now. He oversaw rebuilding projects. He slopped through mud, and worse, at times. Sure, he also saw a lot of boardroom tables and podiums. Yes, he’d been to the White House and the Pentagon and lots of office and capitol buildings around the country. But he could, and did, get dirty with the best of them.

He surveyed the roof, then the view of the town he had from this vantage point.

He felt a definite sense of contentment.

Working to help strangers was easier because there were fewer emotions. Less guilt and remorse. But the emotions he missed out on included good ones, too, like pride and triumph and satisfaction.

He was putting Chance back together with his own two hands. He could see the progress from his high vantage point. It was like a healing wound, and it filled him with an unmistakable feeling of fulfillment.

Which was followed quickly by the thought that he’d really love to see the same progress and healing in Avery. Progress he could claim being a part of.

Fuck.

“I’m not moving to Oklahoma,” he told Max, trying to get his mind off Avery for even five minutes.

“What about back here?”

Jake froze. Had he heard Max right?

“What are you talking about?”

Max nodded. “Roger Swanson wants to retire. He asked me to buy him out.”

Roger had owned the local construction company for as long as Jake could remember. He was easily in his sixties, and Max, a hometown boy with an interest in and skill for building, was a logical choice to take over. Provided, of course, that Max wanted to come home.

“You serious?” Dillon asked.

Max nodded. “I love what I’m doing but . . .”

“This is home,” Dillon said when Max trailed off.

“Yeah.”

Jake felt his heart twist. None of them had ever stopped referring to Chance as home. That fact wasn’t lost on him.

“The hospital board president asked me about staying, too,” Dillon said.

“No shit,” Max said. “You gonna do it?”

Dillon took a second to answer. “I think I want to.”

Jake breathed out. Max and Dillon were both coming home.

“Our mothers are going to freak out,” Max said.

Dillon grinned—something he didn’t do enough of anymore—and said, “And grandma and Gigi and Shelby.”

The town. The whole fricking town would freak out.

Jake knelt and picked up his hammer again, trying to ignore, or at least hide, the sharp sting of jealousy.

His cousins and best friends were coming home. They’d have barbecues together and get beers after work. They’d see their families regularly. They could pursue whatever was going on with Bree and Kit. Maybe it wouldn’t work out, but at least they could try. There would be no what-ifs. The fucking what-ifs could make a guy insane.

They could also serve on the school board together or coach Little League or . . . a thousand things. A thousand seemingly small things that shouldn’t be important next to the work they were each doing in their respective cities, but that still made Jake green with envy.

Of course he could consult with emergency-management officials, do presentations, write and blog from Chance. He could also work with Max. Jake loved working with his hands. He loved building things. There was a definite satisfaction in creating something where there had been nothing before or repairing something that had been damaged.

But if rebuilding tiny Chance could give him this incredible sense of gratification, then he couldn’t ignore that he was being given an opportunity to do the same thing on a much larger scale. The job in DC was something Jake had always wanted, and he’d be damned good at it. He couldn’t forget that working with FEMA meant he would help to support places like Chance all across the nation.

He could stay in Chance and build it up and support it and make it great. Or he could go to Washington and build up and support thousands of Chances