Something Right: The Buchanans, #2

By Rose Fresquez

A divorcée firefighter with trust issues, a fiery interior designer determined to chip away the walls of his house and his heart. Can their friendship survive the sparks of love?

Jake Larson is good at everything…except relationships. When his marriage ends, it leaves the firefighter with doubts he's never experienced before. Now he's determined to protect his crushed heart the only way he knows how: avoid falling in love at all costs. And thanks to his friend Ezra, Jake is more than content to fill the hole in his life with a newfound faith in Christ and the hope for a brighter—if single—future.

 

Renee Buchanan is one of the best interior designers Colorado has to offer, and she knows it. She's young, skilled, and confident…except when she's around Jake Larson. Every time Jake steps into a room, her carefully crafted professionalism crumbles, and she finds herself lost.

And that's a problem when Jake hires Renee to decorate his fixer-upper of a home. Not only is Jake her brother's best friend, he's also the gentleman of her dreams. And no matter how determined she is to make this the well-designed house of her career, and how thick the walls around Jake's heart are, something new sizzles up between them, something they can't help but be drawn toward.

 

As they work together to chip away at the walls of both Jake's house and his heart, Jake is faced with a life-changing decision: let himself fall for his best friend's beautiful sister, or stay single but keep his friendship intact. Either way, Jake knows he must let go of his past before he can grab hold of the future…or else risk losing the second chance he desperately needs.

Something Right is a sweet interracial romance between a damaged firefighter and the interior designer determined to make him whole again.

 

Something Right is the second book in the standalone in series; The Buchanan Standalone Series

 

Read the other books in the Buchanan series

1. First Site

2. Something Right

3. New Light (Novella)

4. Bright Side

5. Short Sighted

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rose Fresquez
• Release date: Sep 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223673415

Rose Fresquez

Rose Fresquez is the author of First Site and two other family devotionals. She's married to her prince charming and a proud mother of four amazing kids. When she's not busy taking care of her family, she's writing. Follow her on facebook at https://facebook.com/rosefresquezbooks/

Book preview

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

FIRST OF ALL, I WANT to thank the Lord, my Savior. Creativity and the ability to do anything comes from you. Without you, Father, there’s no point in trying to do anything at all. It’s my prayer that I can honor you with my words. With your special hand, you connected me with an amazing group of people who helped support me in accomplishing this novel.

To my husband Joel, who works so hard to provide for our family so that I can stay home and take care of the kids. I’m so blessed that we get to journey through life together.

To my children Isaiah, Caleb, Abigail and Micah, you fill my heart with joy. Thanks for the giggles, laughter and encouragement.

Unending thanks to my friend and editor, Elizabeth Proske. Your insights and wisdom have helped shape this story. You’ve been there with your support and your tireless work in making my books stronger and presentable. I’m so grateful to you for helping me grow in the process.

Thank you, Kim Betts, for re-reading my manuscript to help with the final touches.

Thank you to those who helped me in your area of expertise; Kari Murphy, for your friendship and support. Thanks for being a great resource for my interior design questions.

Rachel Fresquez, for helping answer a legal question. Matt and Erin VanGieson, Owen and Sarah McKeough.

A huge thanks to those who helped critique this story. Katherine Karrol, for the genuine critiques—the humor in your comments made me laugh. Deb Rhodes, Angie, Deborah Miller and Rhoda.

To Jerri Hall, for being my greatest cheerleader and encourager. Thank you for staying with me from the beginning of my writing by reading each and every manuscript. I’m so grateful for your friendship and wisdom.

Candace and Kathy, for your prayers and texts.

To Paula Parker and the ladies at my church library, who help me check out books to read for fun and to grow, both spiritually and in my writing.

Thank you to Lynn and the ladies at the Belmar library for your help with my research and using the computer to get my work done.

There are not enough words to express the kindness of friends, old and new. Thanks for making this journey delightful, for your support in reading my stories, and for your positive comments of encouragement.

Lastly, thank you to the firefighters in our community who keep us safe. This story is for you.

CHAPTER 1

HEART PUMPING, lungs on fire, Jake Larson sprinted along the top of a narrow wall until he came to the end. He vaulted over the railing, landing upright on a square platform six feet away. From there, he sprang toward another wall, this one ten feet tall. His right foot smacked the wall two feet from the ground, and he used it to propel himself upward. His fingers scrabbled for a hold on the top ledge—and missed. He quickly planted his left foot on the wall in a desperate attempt to recover. His backflip failed miserably and he tumbled backwards onto the thick parkour mat.

That didn’t turn out the way I’d planned, Jake muttered, running a hand over his short, black, sweat-drenched hair. Story of my life.

If there was one thing Jake had learned over the last three years, it was that things never worked out the way he’d planned. Three years ago, he had a wife and owned a house. Unfortunately, life had taken more twists and turns than the indoor parkour course, leading him to where he was now—single and living in a rented duplex.

Whether he liked it or not, he was learning to keep his plans loose and flexible. He still needed an idea of what he wanted to accomplish and where he wanted to be a couple of years down the road, but honestly, he barely knew what was going to happen tomorrow, let alone two years from now.

With a groan he pushed himself up from the mat, feeling much older than twenty-nine. That should have been an easy jump for him, a simple warm-up for the class he was about to teach. He glanced across the gym to see if anyone had witnessed his less than graceful finish, but Jeremy was busy cheering on the kids who were tumbling across another mat on the beginner course.

Jeremy, his fair skin a contrast to Jake’s dark brown, was a war veteran, and one of Jake’s clients from the advanced parkour class. He had recently stepped up to volunteer in the after-school program Jake had started six months ago. Even as an amputee missing one leg, Jeremy worked hard and motivated the kids.

Jake had felt that enthusiasm once. Now he just felt tired and discouraged. He limped off the course to stand in front of the large glass window and watched the wind swirl the leaves across an open field.  Some leaves bounced against the window, their vibrant color a striking contrast to the violent breeze that had carried them.

A happy shout pulled him from his somber mood and he turned to watch with fondness the pre-teens’ beaming faces as they finished up rope climbing.

When Jake had first started the free kids program, his only students had been the triplet boys that he’d met through the firehouse. They belonged to a single mom whose husband had died in a house fire. The mother and two of her sons made it out before the fire trucks arrived, and the firefighters managed to rescue the third boy from the second floor, but it had been too late for the father. Feeling responsible for the family, the firehouse had taken the mother and her sons under their wings, helping with simple fix-it projects around the house. Mentoring the kids was Jake’s contribution.

Now in charge of over twenty kids, Jake hated turning kids down, but he couldn’t handle more. He only did the program twice a week on evenings he wasn’t working at the firehouse.

The veins in his temple throbbed and he tried to massage away a dull headache as he walked the kids to the lobby.

Thanks, Mr. Larson, the freckled triplet said, bidding his farewell.

Jake responded with a high five. You’re welcome, Sarge.

The second triplet nodded his thanks, and the final blond triplet studied Jake’s muscles straining against the tight t-shirt. How long do I have to do parkour to get six-pack abs like yours?

Jake laughed and gave the twelve-year-old a playful punch on the shoulder. Your abs are just right for someone your age.  Keep this up and in a few years your muscles will start to show.

It was almost five o’clock when he finished his last training session. He stifled a yawn. Maybe the kids worked me harder than usual today. He rummaged through the first aid kit in search of pain medicine, finding none. He tried to take good care of himself so he wouldn’t feel this awful.

When he returned to his truck, Jake fired up the engine and gave his phone a cursory glance. His brows furrowed when he noticed a couple of missed calls and two text messages. A sharp pain jolted through his head when he saw the sender, his ex-wife Aniya. She’d been calling for four days, but he kept ignoring her calls, because he had no idea what to say.

By the time Jake got home, his whole body ached, his head throbbed, and a wave of chills swept over him. He concluded that dealing with Aniya was the source of all sorts of pain. So much for keeping his plans loose and flexible.

After taking a shower, Jake crawled into bed. He was now shaking uncontrollably, feeling hot and cold at the same time. He closed his eyes and hoped he wasn’t getting sick. He had no time for illness. He hadn’t been sick since he was thirteen.

The sound of his phone ringing startled Jake awake. His heart raced as he stretched his hand out to reach for it on his nightstand only to knock it over. Unable to answer the call, he rolled onto his side and gave in to the pull of sleep.

He was startled awake when his bedroom door jerked open. 

Larson! The frantic deep voice of his lieutenant and best friend Ezra Buchanan sounded. Ezra was the only person who had Jake’s spare house key.

His tense, muscled frame leaned against the doorjamb, dressed in heavy overalls and work boots. He had a wary expression on his blackened face and a familiar scent—smoke.

Jake blinked, his eyes shifting to the blinds glinting a stream of light. Was it morning already? Why was Ezra dressed for work? Jake’s eyes widened as he remembered he was supposed to be at work. How long had he been sleeping? 

Ezra raked a hand through his tousled brown hair and took a shuddering breath. Glad you’re okay.

Trying to lift his throbbing head, Jake winced. Buchanan. His voice came out as a croak.

Apparently you’re not fine, but at least you’re breathing, Ezra said. His shoulders relaxed. You weren’t answering your phone, and since you never show up late for work...

What time is it?

Ezra’s gaze shifted to the alarm clock on Jake’s nightstand.  Nine-thirty. This was the fastest I could get here. He tossed a hand up in a helpless gesture. The guys...I told them to wait in the truck. He blew out a breath and Jake knew they’d all assumed the worst.

He’d slept for over fourteen hours. It had been a while since he’d slept longer than eight. Even as a teenager, he’d never had the luxury of sleeping in, since he had to work when he wasn’t in school.

Jake shifted his head and grimaced.

Did you take anything for the pain? Ezra asked.

No.

Can I get you anything besides medicine?

Jake had no idea what he wanted other than getting out of bed. I’m okay; I don’t want you to get sick.

True, but someone’s gotta keep an eye on you. The firefighters and the Buchanans were the only family Jake had at the moment.

There’s so much work to do, Jake mumbled.

Well, Ezra said. You’re just going to have to slow down until you feel better. 

Yeah, like that would ever happen. Now stuck in bed unable to move, Jake realized that he wasn’t interested in slowing down until he was forced to.

Ezra left the room, and Jake heard the door slam shut. He returned shortly with a couple of pain pills and a glass of water. No doubt he’d gotten the medicine from the emergency kit they kept in the truck.

I’ll check on you after work, Ezra said as he left.

True to his word, Ezra returned the next morning and placed a bottle of Gatorade on Jake’s nightstand.

I left you a Sprite in the refrigerator, he said, leaning against the door jamb. Renee will be here to check on you this afternoon.

Renee Buchanan was Ezra’s little sister—the first and only female friend Jake had ever had, his best friend besides Ezra.

Jake’s dad had always said a person couldn’t be friends with someone of the opposite sex and not develop feelings for them. But Jake thought his dad was wrong, since Jake never thought of Renee as anything other than a sister.

Tell her not to come. Jake coughed. I don’t want her to get sick.

Tell her yourself and see if that keeps her from showing up.

The Buchanans were some of the most stubborn people Jake had ever known—and the most loving. As for Renee, she had a mind of her own. That probably came from having two older brothers that she had to keep up with.

You better get well soon—by soon I mean before the next shift. I don’t think I can handle another shift with King talking my ear off about all his achievements.

Ezra was a good listener and tolerated a lot of people, but Gage King had filled in a few times at the firehouse and he could wear out a saint with his bragging.

***

A SLIVER OF LIGHT APPEARED through the blinds and Jake blinked against the brightness. His head hurt when he rolled onto his side. He squinted at the clock on his nightstand⸺it was ten-twenty a.m. A faint memory of Renee crossed his mind. Had he dreamed about her? The empty bottle of sparkling water and diffuser on his nightstand confirmed she’d stopped by last night.

Moving the comforter aside, he drew in a breath, dragged his feet to the floor, and staggered to the bathroom.

Doesn’t the flu last for twenty- four hours?  He stumbled back to bed and closed his eyes again.

Several hours later, the bedroom door creaked open and his eyes fluttered. He lifted his head and his eyes bore into a pair of soft blue ones.

Renee Buchanan stood in his bedroom, appearing taller than her five feet four inches because of her high heels. Her brown hair hung slightly above her shoulders in silky waves. The ripped knee skinny jeans and a mustard yellow sweater curved around her petite body.

She wrinkled her face and walked toward his bed. Oh, Jakey. She knelt beside him. Jake winced when her cool hand touched his forehead.

Memories of when he was thirteen rushed through his mind. The last time he’d been sick, his mom had knelt beside him with words of comfort as she took his temperature.

The way Renee looked at him with genuine concern did something to his heart, creating feelings of vulnerability—that same vulnerability which had led to marrying the wrong woman. But then, Renee was not just any woman. She was the sister Jake had never had and he was so grateful to have her in his life.

Renee, he said between labored breaths. What time is it?

She glanced at her Apple watch, a gift from Jake for her twenty-fifth birthday two months ago. Almost five.

She smoothed a hand over his tight curls and drew in a slow breath. You’re sweaty, but your temperature is down. She rose to her feet. I’m going to get a bath ready for you.

Jake reached for her wrist when she started to pull away. Thank you, he murmured.

You’re welcome, she said, biting her lip.

Without asking, Renee rummaged through his clothes, opening and closing the dresser drawers as if familiar with where he put things. That was Renee, always figuring things out.

She retrieved sweats and a t-shirt and held them up for Jake. Comfy enough?

He nodded and she left the room.

His feet felt wobbly as he pulled himself out of bed. A bath sounded much better than a shower because it involved sitting down instead of standing.

Jake was standing, his forehead resting against the wall, when Renne returned.

You okay? she asked, placing a hand on his back and guiding him to the bathroom.

He was far from it. I’ll be okay.

I’ll let you take your bath, she said once in the steamy room. I’m going to open some windows in your bedroom for fresh air and change your bed sheets. She left, closing the bathroom door behind her.

It took several minutes of standing on the cold bathroom tile to gather the strength to undress. The sound of running water soothed him and the steam felt good. Renee had explained the scent of oils, but all Jake could remember was mint and something that smelled like cinnamon.

After his bath, Jake carried his dirty laundry to the overflowing hamper in the bedroom. He normally had an organized house, but he’d slipped this week. Had he known he was getting sick, he would have done the laundry.

Enthralled by the bedroom’s transformation, Jake inhaled the fresh scent of disinfectant and essential oils that blasted steam from the diffuser on his nightstand. Renee had made his bed and left one corner untucked.

After sliding on his slippers and a sweatshirt, Jake lumbered downstairs.

The two-bedroom duplex wasn’t big, but it was enough for Jake’s needs. He got a great deal from the landlord in exchange for taking care of any plumbing issues at the complex and giving his four kids parkour lessons. This helped Jake save some money each month in hopes of buying a house someday.

Renee stood in the kitchen, the bright light giving her skin a delicate glow. She was barefoot on tippy toes, reaching for bowls out of the cabinets. She was quite the nurturer.

Should I have a fire extinguisher handy?

She turned at the sound of his voice, her smile soft as she gave him a swift once-over. Looks like someone’s feeling better.

No doubt the bath had helped. He moved to the small counter-height dining table and pulled out one of the three round stools from underneath it.

Renee scooped something from a Tupperware container into the bowls. Are you hungry?

I’m not sure, he said tentatively and cocked a brow. You’re cooking?

Renee chuckled softly. You could say that, if you consider microwaving cooking. I hope you’re up for soup because I’m not having a repeat of yesterday.

Jake smiled as yesterday played in his mind. She’d attempted to make toast for him and ended up burning it.  It had set off the smoke alarm and she’d ended up opening windows to let the smell out. She’d settled on him drinking sparkling water.

When was the last time you ate? She placed a bowl in the microwave.

Jake tapped a finger on his forehead. Three days ago, I think? I hope I don’t get you sick.

She dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. Leila stocked me up with essential oils to boost my immunity. Plus, I’d rather be here than on that blind date my co-worker set me up with.

When Renee had mentioned the date to Jake, he’d hesitantly encouraged her to give it a try. Renee had agreed on the condition that Jake would hang out in the restaurant in case she needed rescuing.

Jake winced. That was today?

She nodded and kept her eyes on the microwave. I’m relieved. Blind dates are intimidating.

She didn’t need blind dates because someone would have to be blind not to notice her attractiveness. But Jake wasn’t going to tell her that.

The microwave beeped and Renee brought two bowls of steaming soup. She placed one in front of him and set one down for herself, then went to the fridge and returned with two bottles of water.

Jake stared at the steaming bowl, which gave off a celery scent. What’s this?

She took a seat across from him. Vegetable soup. Leila made it.

After Renee prayed over their meal, Jake hesitantly took a spoonful into his mouth.

Hmm. Not bad. Maybe he was getting his appetite back. He placed the spoon back in the soup and rested his chin on his hand.

You’re going to eat more than a bite. Renee pointed her spoon at him. Even if your appetite’s off, you need something to stop you from being shaky.

Now you’re just being mean, Jake said in a sulky voice, but his smile must have given him away.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.  She beamed and turned her attention to her bowl.  You should be ready for some real food tomorrow. I’ll bring you breakfast on my way to work. Renee stared at him. Craving anything in particular?

As much as he wanted to see her again, he didn’t want to put her through any more work than she’d already done.

As if reading his mind, she said, I’m planning to come regardless. If you don’t tell me what you want, I’ll bring you oatmeal. She took another spoonful of soup. Jake did the same until his spoon raked an empty bowl.

I better let you get back to bed, she said while placing the dishes in the dishwasher.

He didn’t want her to leave.

I feel like I’ve been sleeping for days. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Tell me anything that doesn’t involve sleep. That is if you’re not in a hurry.  Uh...I...would like for you to stay a little longer.

She beamed. I would love to stay.

They moved to the living room, where she plunked down onto the second-hand gray tweed recliner. Jake settled on the matching sofa and reached for the soft red throw that was draped over the armrest—Renee’s gift to him last Christmas.

Renee did most of the talking, but Jake didn’t mind.

Her face turned from smiling to serious. I have an interview with Good Morning America, she said with a wistful sigh. I’m nervous.

You? Nervous?  She was an amazing interior designer who approached everyone with ease. I think you underestimate yourself.

Her eyes sparkled at his encouragement.

You did well last time, on that 5280 Home Show, Jake reminded her. This should be much easier.

She pursed her lips. You say that because you’re on TV every morning.

A recording of Jake working out with the kids from the after-school program showed on a morning fitness show hosted by one of their clients.

Two different things. One, mine is a recording. Two, how many followers does Good Morning America have? Like...a million? That’s a live show with lots of eyes on you.

She sighed. I don’t know, Jakey...

You’ve got this. He nodded emphatically. She had what it took and Jake had never met anyone as confident as Renee. She was also passionate and knowledgeable in her field. Just imagine yourself talking to me or any of your family members during the interview. That should help ease the tension.

Her smile back in place, she said, Thanks.

Appearing relaxed, Renee drummed her fingers on her knees. Now I want to hear about your time at home. Did you do any soul-searching? Make new plans? She crossed one leg over the other. The last time I got sick, I felt like it was God’s way of telling me to slow down and it was a good opportunity to think about stuff.

He nodded slowly. Yep, I did a lot of thinking. Good and bad, but I’m grateful to have you and your family in my life.

She put a hand on her chest to take a bow. On behalf of all the Buchanans, we would say the same. It’s nice to have you, Jakey.

Aniya called me several times.  He normally told Renee almost everything.

She nodded distantly. What did she want?

Jake scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. I don’t know. That was the truth. She left messages for me to call her back.

It might be a while before he gathered up the nerve to talk to Aniya.  He’d have to face her sooner or later.

After a brief silence, Jake spoke. I think it would be good for me to get some answers, you know? Like closure. He’d prayed for an opportunity to ask Aniya what he’d done to make her ditch their marriage. Now that Aniya was trying to contact him, Jake wasn’t sure he wanted to talk.

Renee sighed and stood up. I hope she doesn’t have any hidden motives. She sauntered to the kitchen to retrieve her purse.

Was she bored by his choice of topic? Maybe he’d said something wrong. You’re not leaving already, are you?

She pulled a DVD from her handbag. Actually, I brought you a movie to watch when you feel like it. She ripped off the wrapper. Since I’m here, maybe we can watch it together.

Renee knew him so well. He had no cable and often watched DVDs. While she inserted the disc in the player, Jake smiled when it turned out to be his favorite old-time western movie. He’d almost forgotten he had a favorite movie.

He sucked in a quick breath, considering how she remembered certain details about him. Where did you get this?

She gave him a sly smile as she flopped onto the chair. I’m not telling.

He doubted she’d enjoy the movie. But when he turned to meet her gaze, she leaned back in the armchair with a wide smile and looked fully absorbed in the opening credits as they appeared on the screen.

Seeing her contentment made Jake look forward to the movie. He couldn’t stop wondering how life would’ve been if he’d married a woman as selfless and caring as Renee. A woman he could talk to freely, without having to filter his words, and a woman who enjoyed his company as much as he did hers.

Being married to someone like that was just a dream, because to Jake, Renee was always going to be his friend, a sister figure. She probably had a line of suitors anyway, although none that she’d told him about, except for the blind date she hadn’t seemed thrilled about.

Good grief. He really needed to get back to work if being stuck at home gave him crazy ideas like that.

Pushing the unreasonable thoughts out of his head, Jake forced himself to focus on the movie instead of the pretty girl sitting a few feet away.

Jake awoke in the middle of the night and was startled to find himself in the living room.  How’d he end up sleeping on the couch?  Confused, he ran a hand over his face until he remembered watching the movie with Renee.

At some point before the end credits, he must’ve dozed off. He was alone now, with two blankets over him instead of the one he’d started out with. The TV was off and Renee was gone.

Since he was comfortable on the couch, Jake closed his eyes, feeling reassured that his friends had made the transition to his new life much better. Maybe he liked changing plans after all.

He might not know what tomorrow would bring, but he knew God had brought friends into his life—friends he could count on.

CHAPTER 2

AS HIS APPETITE increased , Jake’s energy returned and he was finally able to go back to work four days later. A gray duffle bag slung over his shoulder, Jake walked to the two-story gray brick building with white trim that housed the three twenty-four hour shifts of Firehouse 15—their home away from home.

He stepped into the open garage which they called the Apparatus Bay, exchanging waves with people from the night shift who were leaving work. The bay doors were usually open during this time of the morning as the new shift arrived and the previous shift headed home.

His gaze took in the two fire trucks and ambulance which were parked side by side. One wall was lined with equipment such as hoses and ladders, while the other held hooks to hang their jackets.

He followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen, which was sectioned off from the dining and front rooms.

Loud cheers and clapping hands greeted him from where his colleagues sat around a large twelve-seater dining table to the right side of the kitchen.

Jake opened his mouth to acknowledge their noisy welcome, but three of them had already gone back to arm wrestling for the last chocolate donut. At the sight of the familiar chaos, Jake shook his head affectionately.

Larson, you’re here! said a voice from behind.

He turned to find Dalton Lynn, their youngest firefighter, with a green duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

Dalton slapped Jake on the back.