Well Built
Page 29

 Carly Phillips

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“Anything. You know that.”
His mother hesitated a moment, then said, “It has to do with Ella.”
Just the mention of her name made Kyle’s chest hurt, because ever since they’d gone their separate ways last weekend, as fucking friends, he’d felt as though someone had carved out a piece of his heart that was now missing. One night with Ella, and she’d made an indelible mark on him once again, forcing him to remember all the reasons he’d fallen in love with her all those years ago. Because she was sweet and kind and selfless. She made him laugh and feel happier than he had in a long time. He wanted to protect her, care for her, and be the guy she turned to when she needed someone to lean on. Even in their short time together, she made him want to be a better man for her.
And she’d insisted they be nothing more than fucking friends. Yeah, he was still more than a little peeved about her ultimatum, because when she’d issued her “friends or nothing” deal, there was no way in hell he would have chosen nothing. Having Ella in his life, even as a fucking friend, was better than not having her at all.
He knew the odds were stacked against them. That the smart thing to do was to be friends as she’d requested and let the idea of them go. But what he’d realized this past week was that he’d never let her go in the first place. Not in his mind and not in his heart. For ten years, he’d lived with the pain and regret of losing her, of wishing that things had ended differently, of comparing every woman he’d been with to her, only to find each and every one lacking.
He might have tried to bury the heartache as deep as possible so he could get on with his life, but after last weekend with her, there was no doubt in his mind that Ella was the one and always would be. He just had no idea what he was going to do about them when she was so adamant that any kind of future between them was impossible—for valid reasons. And right now, he was stuck in the fucking friend zone anyway, he thought grumpily.
“Kyle Coleman, wipe that scowl off your face,” his mother chastised, misconstruing his emotions and whatever expression he was currently wearing as a result of his frustrating thoughts. “That girl has been through a lot in the past ten years, and there is one thing I know that she’s always wanted . . . that she no longer believes is possible . . . ”
“The building,” he murmured, already knowing what his mother was referring to.
“Yes,” she confirmed with a nod. “I’ve gone into the market over the years and she’s been nothing but sweet and kind to me, while her father won’t even sit in my section at the diner. Not that I care, because I did nothing wrong that night . . . and neither did you.”
Her tone was adamant, and a bit angry, too—not that he could blame her.
He had no idea how their discussion had veered off track to that night, but he attempted to steer it back in place because, for one, he didn’t want to talk about the past, and two, he needed to leave in ten minutes to go and meet his guys to get started gutting the building.
“Mom, what did you need to ask me?” And more importantly, what did it have to do with Ella?
She patted her graying brown hair a bit nervously. “I want you to make a section of Celebrations that’s closest to the market a storefront for Ella, so she can have a place to sell those handcrafted items that people in town are trying to make a living on. Think of it as a service to the community and helping those small businesses to grow.”
His mom, always thinking about someone else. Someone in need, in this case Ella. And the little guy, like the vendors who would benefit from Ella carrying and distributing their goods and getting their items into the hands of customers. This past week, the same thought had crossed Kyle’s mind, but he wasn’t sure how to make it happen. The building could be compartmentalized by storefronts, but since it was all one property, there wasn’t any way to sell off a section to Ella, even if he wanted to.
“It’s one piece of property,” he tried to explain to his mother. “I can’t sell just a portion of it to her, and she’s not going to just take it.” No, his Ella was too proud, obstinate, and independent for that. She’d want to earn it and know that it was hers without owing anything to anyone.
His mother merely smiled, seemingly unconcerned as she stood up, grabbed the cooler filled with food, and handed it to him. “You’re a smart man, Kyle,” she said, giving his cheek a gentle, loving pat. “I know you’ll figure something out.”
He hadn’t agreed but his mother didn’t seem to care about that. She trusted him not only to do what she’d asked but to make it work despite the obstacles. He let out a low groan, wishing that Ella, the other woman in his life, had the same faith in his abilities to fix things that were wrong and reshape the future.
* * *
“Damn, how in the world are we supposed to get any work done with those gorgeous, hot, sweaty, and supremely muscular men distracting us next door?”
Ella laughed at Claire’s comment because it was the truth. Ever since Kyle had arrived with his crew of men to start hauling junk out of the Piedmont building, it had been difficult not to glance out the store’s front windows—okay, stare in blatant appreciation was a more accurate description—when one or more of them were lifting heavy items out to the dumpsters they’d rented for the day. There was a crew of about eight guys, but the only one who captured Ella’s attention was Kyle. He was wearing a pair of old, faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt, but she’d come to the conclusion that nothing could detract from his perfectly sculpted body and those biceps and forearms that flexed as he effortlessly carried old furniture and boxes of stuff out of the building.
She and Kyle might have agreed to remain friends, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t look and enjoy what great eye candy he was. She just wished it didn’t make her feel so hot and bothered . . . and too damn wistful.
“Break time is over,” Ella said, injecting humor into her tone as she forced herself to walk away from the window to get back to work. “I’m not paying you to ogle the studs next door. Besides, I don’t think Nolan would approve of you drooling over those guys, either.”
Claire made a dismissive pfft sound as she reluctantly turned her back on the exceptional view outside. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with looking over the menu somewhere else, so long as I eat at home.”