Make You Mine Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  copyright

  social media

  dedication

  reader note

  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

  chapter 21

  chapter 22

  chapter 23

  chapter 24

  chapter 25

  chapter 26

  chapter 27

  chapter 28

  chapter 29

  sneak peek — you make it easy

  sneak peek — pretend you're mine

  books by fabiola francisco

  acknowledgments

  about the author

  Copyright © 2020 by Fabiola Francisco

  Publication Date: April 8, 2020

  Make You Mine (Love in Everton, Book 4)

  All rights reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction. Any trademarks, service marks, product names or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and contains material protected under the International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of the material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover design by Amy Queau, Q Designs

  Editing by Rebecca Kettner, Editing Ninja

  Cover photo by Deposit Photo

  Interior Design by Cary Hart

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  For the guy who walked in on me as I was finishing up in the men’s bathroom. Thank you for the inspiration.

  Averly

  I’ve lived my entire life waiting for this. I’ve put off traveling, buying a house, hell, buying expensive underwear for the off-chance that my non-existent love life would suddenly become interesting. If only I gave it the attention I give this place.

  I shake those thoughts away, and I stare up at the old farmhouse—chipped, white siding, overgrown grass, and squeaky porch. It’s perfect. Soon, my dream bed and breakfast will be completely transformed.

  I’ve planned everything in my life out for this very moment. My degree, my work experience, my perfect credit score, the hobbies I have, all of it has been intentional, so the day I owned my own bed and breakfast, I knew everything I needed to run it successfully. I’m even three years ahead of schedule.

  My goal was to open it at the age of thirty-three, and being only thirty, it allows me the time I need for renovations. I squeeze my eyes shut as I think about the renovations. I could’ve bought a place that was ready to open, but it would’ve been outside of my hometown of Everton and not felt like it was truly mine. I’d be taking over someone else’s dream, and I’ve worked too hard for it not to be my own vision.

  I finish assessing the outside, mentally noting all the work that needs to be done, and walk up the porch steps creaking under my feet. The front porch should’ve probably been the first thing I worked on, but the inside needed a lot more TLC than the outside, starting with stripping away the stale cigar smell that was impregnated on the walls, and it’s dead of winter in Wyoming, which means no one can stand being outdoors for longer than a few minutes.

  I tiptoe along the entrance, avoiding bags and tools as I make my way around the space, shaking off the snow from my boots. The walls are stripped down to their bare bones, the drywall that used to be there now in a pile of trash outside.

  I sigh and smile, spinning around as I look at the progress. Everything must be chaos before it can be tidied up and perfected. The downstairs area will eventually be a living space, reception area, dining room, and kitchen. Right now, it’s one huge space with plywood structures holding the upstairs.

  I find somewhere to drop my purse, so I can search through the magazine I brought with me. I might as well bookmark the entire magazine with the amounts of pages that have the corners folded.

  “Averly.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath, praying for patience today.

  I slowly turn around, plastering a fake smile. “Eli.” I nod once.

  “Why are you here so early?” He crosses his arms and glares at me.

  Eli Hastings, my pain-in-the-ass contractor. There’s only one other man in town I can stand less than Eli, and we don’t talk about him at all.

  “I came to check out the progress and make some mental notes from designs I found in here,” I hold up the Country Style magazine.

  “You’re here before my team is. Therefore the progress is the same as last night when you left. As for design ideas, you’re going to get in my men’s way by prancing around fantasizing about what this will look like.”

  “I’m not fantasizing, I’m planning. This isn’t a dream, Eli, you and your team are working on it. Besides, I should discuss ideas with you before it’s too late to make any changes.”

  Eli groans and shuts his eyes, running his hand down his face. I shift and cross my arms, the magazine clutched into one of my hands.

  “Averly, we already went through everything. We have plans. We have blueprints. We even have a three-dimensional model of how this place will look. I don’t want any more changes,” he growls.

  “Listen, Eli,” I placate. “These are small things, ideas that I found. I think they would really optimize the use of the space.”

  “Later, I need to get to work now,” he dismisses me.

  I cross my arms and lift an eyebrow. “I’m your client. I pay you.”

  “Fuck,” Eli growls. “Show me what you want, then promise you’ll leave for a few hours. Go drink coffee or whatever you girls do, and let me work.” He holds his hand out for the magazine.

  I hesitate before I take a step forward, prepared to show him all the ideas.

  “This is too much, Averly,” Eli’s patience is thinning.

  “It’s not. Just take a look before you veto every idea I throw your way.” When he doesn’t argue, I begin pointing out different ideas. “I think a drawer like this in the coffee bar would be a great way to store the coffee pods so that they aren’t out in the open cluttering the countertop.” I show him the coffee pods storage that has space for the pods to fit perfectly.

  “I still don’t understand why you’re going with a fancy coffee maker. What’s wrong with a regular pot?”

  “Because if a regular pot brews more than what is drunk, I’ll have to
throw away perfectly good coffee. With this fancy maker, it will make individual servings.” It’s really none of his business which appliance I use, yet he has made sure he criticizes each choice I make.

  Sometimes I wonder why I even hired him. Eli is good at his job, I’ll give him that. He’s the best, I can admit that. I saw what he did with my brother’s house. The renovations alone brought up the property value, not to mention it went from an ugly bachelor pad to a gorgeous magazine-worthy home.

  The thing is, Eli’s a jerk. To me, at least. We don’t see eye-to-eye. We’ve both been living in this town, and I’ve never much cared for him and his Casanova ways, but now that we’re working together, I want to strangle him. Before I could avoid him, look away, and interact with him the few times I had to.

  We’re both too by-the-books when it comes to our careers, but outside of work, Eli is carefree and a player. I, on the other hand, am always by-the-book, whether it’s work or social outings.

  “Show me the rest of the things. It’s not like I have all day to sit and flip through this magazine. Unless you’re willing to extend your ridiculous timeline.”

  “My timeline is not ridiculous. You guaranteed you’d be able to have this place up and running by the summer.”

  “You gave us eight months for a major renovation,” he shakes his head. “That’s only possible if we don’t come across any serious issues.”

  “We won’t,” I shake my head.

  “I can’t promise that.” He stands. “Show me the rest later. If you want us to get any work done today, you need to let us start.”

  “Fine.” I shove the magazine in my purse and hoist it on my shoulder. “I’ll be back this afternoon.”

  “See ya.” He waves over his shoulder, already measuring something.

  I step out into the cold and look up at the gray sky. Snowflakes land on my face, and I smile. Despite the headache it’s been working with Eli these last couple of months, I’m on the right path.

  When I finally closed on this house in the summer, I couldn’t believe it. I’d had my eye on any property that would allow for me to expand it into a bed and breakfast. That meant enough space to create more bedrooms, ten acres of land so guests can enjoy the outdoors, and a barn for horses.

  This place has it all and then some, including a river that flows through the property, and a small cottage that would be perfect for me to live in.

  Getting the permits to renovate, as well as the rezoning permits to transform this farmhouse into an actual business, took some time. Fortunately, my best friend, Poppy’s, dad is the mayor here, and I got my registrations and forms expedited.

  My brother was the one who recommended Eli for the renovations. Not only had he recently worked on his house, but they’re also friends. Lucky me.

  I was lucky in the sense that Eli had availability to begin working almost immediately, and he was the most affordable company I spoke with. Not to mention that despite my dislike for his personality, he’s trustworthy when it comes to handing over huge chunks of change. And getting this business started is costing me a lot more than a pretty penny.

  Doing as Eli suggested, I head to Cup-O-Joe, the coffee shop in our town center, and do some work on my website. This may be the only time I take his advice, but even I have to admit it’s the smartest choice at the moment. It’s my least favorite part, so I have fallen behind when it comes to researching SEO, data analysis, and looking up my competitors. Having a great website that’s easy for anyone to use to reserve a room or to learn more about the bed and breakfast is a top priority.

  Opening my laptop, I put on my headphones and look over my website that’s under construction, just like my bed and breakfast. Patience is a must in times like this.

  I check off items from my to-do list as I work, only pausing to order a second coffee.

  “Hi, Averly, how’s the bed and breakfast coming along?” Mrs. Dunne, one of our Everton neighbors, asks.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Dunne. It’s great. They’re working on it right now, and I’m here catching up on some work as well.” I smile as I grab my coffee from the barista.

  “I’m so happy to hear that. You’ll keep the town updated, right? I want to make sure to share it with friends once you’re open.”

  “Thank you, I’ll be sure to share once I have an official opening date.”

  “Wonderful. Take care.” She grabs her own coffee and heads out the door.

  If there’s one thing I love about living in a small town, it’s the community that comes with it. Sure, sometimes people would rather gossip, but they’re always willing to help and support you. Mostly, anyway. Unfortunately, every town has its bad seeds, but I’ve learned to ignore those. And soon, the leader of them will be leaving Everton, hopefully for good.

  Averly

  “The walls look good,” I comment to Eli as he walks me through the progress. His team has installed the drywall, finally giving the space a clearer view of how the floor plan will look. It’s amazing how small changes make a big impact.

  “Thanks,” Eli nods, leading me into the kitchen, which is still bare. “The cabinets and stove will go along that wall.” He points to the wall in front of us. “Here, we’ll put the sink with cabinets below it and some more counter space.” My attention moves to the adjacent wall.

  “And the island here?” I stand in the middle of the room.

  “Yes, but…” Eli’s face turns hard and defensive before he continues speaking. “This beam has to stay.” He slaps his hand against the wooden structure.

  “What? No. We said this would go.” I shake my head.

  “We said it would go if it wasn’t a load-bearing structure. This beam supports the ceiling.”

  “Find another solution. I watch home improvement shows, and they use horizontal beams in situations like this.”

  “Yes, but you’re expanding the kitchen beyond the original footprint of the house, so we already had to find other solutions for the wall that was there.” He points to the open space.

  “Your job is to find ways around these situations.”

  “My job is to build you a space you love, but that will also hold for years to come.” Eli’s jaw clenches.

  “Figure something out, or I’ll knock it down myself.” I cross my arms, not backing down on this. We have had plans drawn up and consultations about design and floor plans. Knowing Eli, he’s giving me a hard time on purpose. Ever since he started this project, he’s made it his mission to dampen my good mood and excitement about this place.

  “If the house comes tumbling down, don’t blame me.” He shoots his stupid pointer finger in my direction.

  I bring a hand to my chest and say, “I’d never,” mocking him.

  “Yeah, right,” he grumbles and walks away.

  “Where are you going?” My arms fall to the side, slapping my thighs.

  “To talk to my guys so we can work on this. Isn’t that what you want?” He lifts his eyebrows, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

  “Yes.” I cross my arms again and stay where I am, waiting to hear the verdict. I won’t take no for an answer. I know there has to be a way to remove that beam without having any issues.

  The uneven beat of tools being used fills the house. I check my emails on my phone while I wait for Eli to return.

  As soon as I registered this business, I started getting so many unsolicited emails offering services to help with my website, social media, marketing, you name it. It crowds my inbox. I see an email confirming a meeting this afternoon with my interior designer and another one notifying me of the new podcast episode from my favorite boss babe, which I save so I can listen to it when I leave.

  “You’re still here,” Eli enters the kitchen with another guy.

  “Yes,” I lift my brows. “We need to finish discussing this.” I point to the beam, my smile feeling more like a disgusted cringe than genuine happiness.

  “I told you we’d see what we can do.” Eli’s body crowds the ope
ning of the kitchen, his arms across his chest in an attempt to intimidate me. I’ve worked for years in hospitality, his superior attitude doesn’t scare me. “Tim and I will assess the situation and remove the beam.”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem,” Tim adds, looking between Eli and me.

  “Okay,” I surrender. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Eli clips.

  Rolling my eyes, I walk away, the echo of hammering and sawing filling the house. Just a few more months and I’ll be done with all of this. When we first started, I thought I’d participate more in the renovations, but Eli was quick to dismiss that idea. He made sure I was out of his hair, making me feel like a nuisance than a business owner.

  …

  “Do you ladies need anything?” Harris, Poppy’s boyfriend, peeks his head into the living room. We’re at her house for our weekly book club meeting, each week alternating between one of our houses. Poppy, Abbie, Faith, and I have been best friends since we were kids. Through the years, including college and boyfriends, we’ve maintained our friendship. I’d be lost without these girls.

  “You’re supposed to be gone by now,” Poppy throws a cushion at him.

  “Hey, now, you outnumber me, and I’m just trying to be nice before I head out.” He walks in and places a second bottle of wine on the coffee table. “You always pretend you’re going to stick to one bottle because it’s a weekday, but I know better.” He smiles and drops a kiss on Poppy’s forehead.

  “Awwww,” the rest of us say in unison. Poppy blushes and throws cushions at us.

  “Jerks.” Her smile beams, though, and I’m really happy for my best friend. She finally found a guy worth giving a chance, and that hasn’t been easy for her in this town.

  “I’ll see y’all later,” Harris drawls, and Poppy sighs.

  “What?” she asks when he leaves, and she turns to look at us.

  “That sigh was so loud I think you’re competing with the heroines in our favorite books,” I tease.

  “Whatever, that southern drawl is sexy,” she shrugs and looks at Abbie and Faith. “Shall we?”