Read Online A Bet Worth Making (Grayson County #2) by Heather Hildenbrand - Free Book Online Page A

she’d meant it. But then it was too late. The comment was out there.
    “Of course,” Summer said, nodding and giving me a look that made me feel guilty for a crime I’d yet to commit. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about not telling you. I’ve learned to trust Frank and honestly, to stay out of it when he decides to pull something like this. I hope it doesn’t ruin things between us or the project.”
    My shoulders relaxed and I shook my head. “I appreciate it. I was surprised but it worked out. I have a place to stay and Casey has some extra income. I just … I’ve been a little unbalanced lately. A lot of personal changes and my manners—and temper—are a little off. This project has been a great distraction.” I smiled brightly, knowing full well my eyes were brimming with moisture. 
    Summer, to her credit, ignored it all and smiled back. “Well, let’s talk about this project then, shall we?”
    I grabbed onto the subject change like a lifeline and ran with it. “Sure, I’d love to show you some sketches I did just based on our emails and the measurements you sent. Now that I’ve seen the space, I can make some changes to enhance your property and positioning but here’s the basic idea.” I held up my sketchbook and the printed schematics I’d brought and Summer leaned in to take a closer look.
    For the next hour, Summer and I went back and forth on my sketches and ideas and mapping out a clear plan for design and the timeline of work to follow. Any grief or lingering stress I’d brought with me fell away and I became absorbed in describing my vision and fielding Summer’s questions.
    This was my element. Nothing else could touch me here.
    The sun rose higher and by the time we’d finished my brow and back were lined with sweat. I swiped at my forehead and Summer smiled. “Come on, I’ve got water in the truck.”
    We made our way back down the wooded path just as a third pickup rolled to a stop beside Summer’s. Ford and an older man got out of the cab and came around.
    “You made it. Jordan, I hear you met Ford yesterday,” Summer said, making the introductions as she handed me a water. She paused to plant a quick kiss on her fiancé’s cheek. When she pulled back, they lingered a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, and I found myself touched in by their obvious connection. “And this is my dad. Dean Stafford, owner of Heritage Plantation.”
    Dean Stafford stepped forward, his weathered face an older and more masculine version of Summer’s. The resemblance between them was undeniable.
    “Pleasure, Mr. Stafford,” I said, shaking his outstretched hand. He smiled back at me with the same friendliness his daughter exuded.
    “Pleasure’s mine,” he said. “I hear you’re a genius with design. Summer can’t stop talking about your ideas.”
    “Genius might be a little strong,” I said, shifting under the praise.
    “I don’t know,” Ford said, slipping an arm around Summer’s waist. “If you’ve found a way to put up with Casey, maybe you’re smarter than the rest of us.”
    Summer laughed and Dean shot me a smile that twinkled all the way into his eyes. I tried to match it but averted my gaze. I did not want to talk about Casey, but I couldn’t exactly tell them to back off, not when the man carrying the purse strings was staring straight at me.
    Thankfully, Mr. Stafford seemed to understand I didn’t want to talk about it. “Well, I know my vote doesn’t count for near as much as Summer’s, but I’d like to have a look at the house I’m funding. Let’s have a look at those plans, shall we?”
    I shot him a grateful smile and stepped up. “Sure, I think you’ll really like some of the ideas Summer came up with earlier.”
    Ford lowered the tailgate on the truck and I spread the sketches out for everyone to see. Within moments, any apprehension or self-consciousness faded. Summer’s lit expression matched my own excitement as we laid out our