Love at Furst Sight (Built Fur Love Book 1) Read online

  Love at Furst Sight

  Terry Bolryder

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Sample of Midnight

  Chapter 1

  “I think she might be my mate, guys.”

  There was stunned silence on the other end of the CB radio for a prolonged moment. Then a chuckle, followed by a hearty guffaw.

  “You’re joking, Garrett.” Hunter’s voice came through the receiver on the dashboard of Garrett’s truck. He could hear the ear-to-ear grin in his friend’s tone.

  “There’s no way you could possibly know.” Grayson’s words were more serious, solemn in the way that only he seemed to be able to pull off.

  The road ahead of their little convoy of trucks towing construction equipment, supplies, and a fifth wheel camper stretched out endlessly before them. They’d been driving for hours, since before the sun had even risen over the limitless flatlands of the Midwest.

  They were getting closer to their destination, and Garrett’s map beeped, indicating a left turn. His truck and its cargo lurched as he slowed, then turned off the main road onto a dirt path barely wide enough to fit his pickup. The ground rumbled beneath him as their vehicles disappeared into a wall of forest that called to the bear inside him.

  “You sure this is the right way?” Hunter asked doubtfully. “Looks like this road hasn’t been used in quite a long time.”

  “Yeah, it’s right. At least the map says so. Our client told us it would be here.” Grayson sounded confident as the CB radio crackled from some sort of interference.

  Even when he was wrong, Grayson was sure he was right. It was the kind of cock-sure conviction that a decade of serving in the army probably instilled in a wolf as capable as he was.

  “Well, all I can say is that the client has the kind of tastes only a shifter would normally enjoy.” Hunter laughed to himself. The cougar always had an infectious way of smiling that made you grin without even realizing it. “I mean, I guess it makes sense, seeing she’s your mate and all.”

  Grayson scoffed.

  Their trucks pushed through the invading wilderness around them as the afternoon sun poked through a thick canopy above.

  “I don’t know. It’s just something I feel deep inside.” Garrett pulled the wheel to the right, avoiding a deep mud pothole. Low-hanging branches scraped along the trailer behind him. The scent of aged oak and dry leaves surrounded him, making him want to run wild for a moment.

  “They call that indigestion, my friend,” Hunter said. A second later a surprised, “Whoa!” came over the radio, and Garrett heard the heavy machinery on Hunter’s truck groan as it rocked slightly as he probably hit the same pothole. “How about warning a guy once in a while?”

  “If you were paying more attention to the road and less attention to your own reflection in the rearview mirror, that wouldn’t have been a problem,” Grayson chastised.

  “Hey, aren’t you supposed to end talking with ‘over?’ Over,” Hunter said playfully.

  “This isn’t the army, asshole. Over.” Grayson sounded gruff. He hated whenever Hunter brought up anything even remotely military-related. Which was frequent.

  “That was completely uncalled for, wolfie. Over.”

  “Keep doing that and I’ll jump into your truck and rip that radio in two,” he warned.

  “No, this is my radio. And you can’t have it.”

  While Grayson and Hunter argued, Garrett thought about the calls he’d had with the woman he suspected to be his mate. Their newest client, Dawn.

  She’d sounded so timid. So sweet. The voice of an angel. Just hearing her had made him want to meet her in person.

  And she’d also had the strangest request for him and his company.

  Build her a house out here in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

  The plans had been pretty easy to draw up. Nothing fancy, just a basic house that was barely the size of a cabin for most people. When Garrett had asked her why, she’d been evasive on her exact reasoning why someone like her, who apparently lived in the city, would want to put something down on a twenty-acre lot as far from civilization as possible. But he hadn’t prodded further, instead just moving forward with arranging everything so the job could proceed on time.

  This wasn’t Garrett’s first time working on a project out in the wild. But usually it was for eccentric millionaires wanting a second or third summer home, complete with all the newest doodads and accoutrements, like an attached golf range or a ten-car garage.

  Their last few projects had been like that. And they’d needed outside help. But now they were financially set for quite a while. It was nice to take a small project just the three of them could work on. Garrett couldn’t trust anyone more than he did Hunter and Grayson for being the hardest, fastest workers he’d ever had the privilege of building with.

  So even if this tiny house in the woods wasn’t going to net them a lot of profit, it would be nice to mix things up for a change.

  And it would be nice to finally meet Dawn.

  “So what are the chances this girl won’t actually be there when we arrive?” Grayson asked doubtfully.

  “Fifty-fifty,” Hunter replied.

  Garrett could see Hunter’s gigantic, gleaming-white truck bouncing up and down behind him, traversing the rough road like nothing in spite of the heavy load he towed behind it. The first thing Hunter would probably do once he got into town would be to find a carwash.

  “Twenty bucks says we’re there first.”

  “I’ll take that. I mean, if she’s Garrett’s mate, then how couldn’t she be there?” Hunter’s voice rose at the end.

  “We’re just meeting there to go over the plans so we can break ground and get the foundation in ASAP. While it’s setting, we’ll get the frame built so we can put it up the second it’s ready to go,” Garrett ordered.

  He’d felt oddly inspired by the architectural drawings he’d made for Dawn. And despite her meager budget, he’d somehow come under budget and, if his calculations were correct, faster than his initially projected timeframe, too.

  “Man. Maybe I should have brought a housewarming gift for this girl or something. You’re going to get this thing built in record time, aren’t cha?” Hunter offered jovially.

  “It’s just smart business, dumbass. Shorter build time means quicker payoff,” Grayson said nonchalantly, focusing on the road.

  “I don’t know about you, but after those last few jobs, I could use a little vacation.” Hunter yawned at the end. Driving always seemed to exhaust the cougar the most.

  There were a few minutes of silence as the sounds of birds, interspersed with the noise of the bumpy dirt road beneath him, rang in Garrett’s ears. In the background, the country music station he turned on whispered through the FM radio, barely audible as he’d turned it down whenever they talked.

  Hunter didn’t always give them the same courtesy, sometimes going for miles blaring whatever old-school rock band was the flavor of the month over their CB units before Grayson lost it and threatened something horrible.

  Yet, after so many years working together, they felt more like family than ever before. Garrett could s
till remember the night he’d walked into the bar of some rundown town he’d been working a job in and running into Grayson, fresh out of the military and a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas. And then later that same night, by pure happenstance, Hunter had wandered into the same bar, headed back east to pursue some vague-sounding job prospect.

  One night of drinking and storytelling had become two, and a week of hiring Grayson and Hunter on a trial basis had become years.

  And in spite of their differences, in spite of the fact that a cougar, a wolf, and a bear had literally nothing in common, they’d become their own little pack of misfits, traversing the country and building everything they could.

  “Honestly, though, Garrett.” Hunter’s voice was serious for the first time in a hundred miles. “How could you possibly want a woman you haven’t even met yet?”

  Garrett didn’t have an explanation. He’d never felt something like this before, so he had nothing to compare it to. Like having the ability to fly without wings might feel. A floating sensation that defied description.

  “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging to himself. Slowly, the country music faded into pure static as they lost reception to whatever station he’d been listening to since they’d crossed state lines.

  “Well, we’re here for you, regardless. So how about we get that home built?” Hunter broke through the silence, his usually cheery self again.

  “Agreed,” Grayson seconded.

  Just then, the trees began to thin out slightly, and Garrett saw a small clearing ahead that was no more than a quarter of an acre wide. Patches of grass and dry wildflowers grew here and there, the bright sun filling the center of it in golden majesty.

  And in the center, standing next to a beat-up little blue car, a woman paced back and forth, clutching something in her hands.

  She was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

  It didn’t matter what Grayson or Hunter said. That woman was definitely his mate.

  Dawn clutched a piece of paper in her hands, making it crumple slightly. Miles of dense forest surrounded her on every side, humming in the afternoon sun as birds chirped and leaves rustled in the light breeze that carried the scent of oak and pine and fresh air.

  Not far away, she could hear the babbling of a little stream at the edge of the property that was very soon going to become her new home for a long time.

  She leaned against her car, glad it had survived the overgrown dirt road that led into the place. Once she’d recovered financially, she would probably be better off trading in her Toyota for something a little more off-road capable.

  Nervousness coiled inside her even as the cool breeze helped offset the heat from the afternoon sun. She checked her phone once more, noting it wasn’t yet two o’clock.

  Her contractors, BCW Builders, were due to show up soon. The owner, Garrett, whom she’d spoken to multiple times while arranging everything, had sounded very serious about being punctual. But then again, contractors habitually showed up late to everything, so why would this be any different?

  Maybe she should go into town and get lunch first.

  She began to pace back and forth a little, dead leaves crunching beneath her sneakers. Dawn could only imagine what her grandfather would say to her right now, seeing her out here pursuing something that had once been his dream.

  Do what makes you happy, Dawn. And don’t take no for an answer if life tries to tell you otherwise.

  “Probably something like that,” Dawn said to herself, smiling as she recalled the gentle way he had of speaking whenever he was doling out invaluable life advice.

  The pain of loss made her face tighten, the corners of her eyes straining as she tried to put away the grief. Even when one had all the time to prepare for the passing of a loved one, it didn’t make the grief any easier. Especially when that person had been your entire life up until very recently.

  Whatever it took, she would hold on to her grandfather’s dream. His legacy.

  She checked her phone again. 1:57. Time really seemed to be much slower out here in the middle of nowhere. Without the hubbub of the city, people coming and going and rushing to get to the next meeting, the next event, the next milestone on their climb upward, the rest of the world had a way of taking its time with things.

  A robin landed on the ground nearby, looking up at her with little black eyes and cocking its head in curiosity. For a moment, it pecked around, looking for something amidst the dead leaves. And then, apparently finding somewhere else to go, it took off and flitted away.

  Dawn sighed. As a graphic artist, as long as she had a sufficient list of clients and her trusty laptop, she could work from practically anywhere. And if she needed supplies or better internet to teleconference, the nearby town of Silver Lake was only a half hour or so away.

  She’d passed through on her way here, and it was as rustic and quiet as the pictures from Google had suggested. The kind of place the rest of the world seemed to pass by on its way to bigger, better things.

  She fanned her face a bit with the copy of the title and her grandfather’s will in her hand, the afternoon sun starting to wear on her. She’d probably burn soon, as her pale skin was not meant for surviving this kind sun exposure for prolonged periods of time.

  Maybe she should call Garrett and ask to meet him in town?

  But before she could even pull her phone out of her pocket, she heard a low rumbling sound off in the distance, coming from the direction of the winding dirt road as it disappeared behind an endless row of trees. The sound was quiet at first, barely audible. Then quickly, the noise of diesel engines and heavy trucks and the rattling of industrial-strength chains pierced the relative silence of the forest

  Dawn perked up, trepidation rolling through her like an incoming tide. Until now, everything had just been planning, setting the stage. She could have backed out before this. But the realization that everything was in fact happening and this wasn’t some fever dream where she was going to pick up her established, comfortable life in the city to move out here to a land lost in time was falling on her like a ton of bricks.

  She straightened a bit, trying to look less nervous than she felt.

  Don’t let ‘em see ya sweat, Dawnie, her grandfather had always told her in moments like this.

  A huge blue pickup appeared at the end of the visible stretch of road, bumping up and down and pulling a huge fifth wheel trailer behind it. Beams of light poked through the canopy, making the blue paint glitter as it made its way toward her at a steady pace. Behind it, another truck, this one a pearlescent white with a polished chrome grille followed behind it, pulling a long flatbed with several machines anchored to it. Lastly, a black truck pulling another flatbed, this one with boxes and supplies and wood and bags of cement secured to it.

  This really was happening, wasn’t it?

  The three vehicles pulled into the clearing, forming a circle around the center, making Dawn and her tiny Toyota feel like ants next to the behemoth trucks and trailers.

  Before she freaked out, Dawn tried to remember Garrett’s calming voice as they’d talked for hours, discussing everything from the architectural designs he’d drawn up to costs and timeframe and even down to little details like appliances and fixtures that she might like.

  Not only had he’d offered the best quote, but he’d also sounded the most professional, the most experienced. And before she’d given the go-ahead, Dawn had spoken with several of Garrett’s references. Each of them had nothing but glowing reviews of him and his crew and the quality of their work.

  So Dawn had nothing to be afraid of, right?

  The door to the big white truck popped open, and an incredibly handsome man with medium-length blond hair in a ponytail hopped out. Even from thirty or so feet away, Dawn could tell he was well over six feet tall. At first, he ignored her and reached his arms high into the sky, yawning as he stretched for a good long while, evoking the image of a house cat getting up from a nap. When he was done, he reached
into his truck, producing a leather, wide-brimmed Stetson hat and putting it on before straightening the branded tee shirt he wore.

  “You finished yet?” Dawn heard someone call out, and she looked over to see another man jump out of the black truck. He wasn’t quite as towering as the first guy, but he made up for it in raw, chiseled muscle and a glare that looked like it could cut glass. The clothes he wore were the exact opposite of the first guy, a plain white shirt and beat-up jeans with black combat boots, and his dark hair was short on the top and shaved on the sides.

  “Not quite,” the blond-haired man who looked more like a model than a construction worker said. He looked down, adjusting the oversized belt buckle he wore slightly, then, seemingly satisfied, nodded. “Now I’m finished.”

  The other one grimaced, folding his arms, which Dawn noticed were both completely covered in tattoos, the designs far too small to make out at this distance.

  Definitely not Garrett, just from the looks of it. Then again, looks could be deceiving.

  Which one would he be?

  She looked at the blue truck that had led the pack and saw a large man working on something in the front seat. He then opened his door and came out, pulling a clipboard from the seat next to him before he came around the front of the truck and into full view.

  Just the sight of him made her heart skip a beat. He was by far the largest of the three, both in terms of height and bulk. His chocolate-brown hair was tousled, short but just long enough to show off just how incredibly thick it was. He had a well-trimmed beard of the same color that accentuated a broad, straight jaw and full lips. His shoulders were so wide he looked like a professional bodybuilder, the blue and green flannel shirt he wore doing nothing to hide the sheer breadth of his musculature.