Building Up Love: Bennett Family Book 2

By Amylynn Bright

Five years ago, Lee Bennett’s whirlwind romance with Candace Claesson ended as abruptly as it had begun, and just when he needed her the most. Since then, Lee’s built a successful construction company and a satisfying, if solitary, life. When he’s hired to build Candace’s new veterinary clinic, Lee finds her as irresistible as ever—but he’s never forgiven her and he’s sure as hell not letting her break his heart again.

For years, Candace has wrestled with regret and guilt over leaving Lee. At the time, nothing was going to stop her from achieving her dreams of studying in Scotland and becoming a vet—not even young love. They’d been inseparable for six months, but anything that intense couldn’t last. Or so she thought.

Reunited in their hometown, neither Lee nor Candace can resist picking up where they left off. But with so much from the past standing between them, how they can rebuild what they started so long ago?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amylynn Bright
• Release date: Jan 29, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224243303

Amylynn Bright

Amylynn Bright has branded her historical novels as “Regency Romantic Comedy” due to her love of humor and witty dialogue. After many starts and stops, in several different genres, she finally came to understand that she simply needed to write what she loved to read and then she had no issue sailing through several manuscripts since 2009.When Amylynn developed the super power of having to sleep only five hours a night, she began telling her stories after everyone else in the family (and most sane people) went to bed. The first of which is “Lady Belling’s Secret”, the initial book in the “Secrets” trilogy.She is a lifelong native of Tucson, AZ and lives there with her husband, two quiet children and an assortment of pets.Visit Amylynn at www.theQuillSisters.com for a daily dose of fun and mayhem.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Oh, crap.

Literally, crap. Lee Bennett cursed, then scraped the sole of his work boot on a curb. How had he missed that pile of dog poo? It was like Godzilla had passed through the parking lot.

He raked his fingers through his hair, making himself presentable to meet with his client. He grabbed his clipboard and a manila folder, then slammed the door to the truck’s cab. He skirted another pile of dog poop. Probably an occupational hazard at a veterinary office. He held the door open for a tiny old lady holding a tiny brown dog.

The lobby of All Creatures Veterinary Clinic was loud. And hairy. Lee suppressed a sneeze as a hunk of yellow dog hair floated past his face. He waited by the tall counter as the elderly lady signed in her wee brown dog—or squirrel, honestly it could have been either, it was so small. There was also a woman with a box of gray-striped kittens, a man with something very mysterious rolling around inside a tied pillowcase, and a young guy with a dog the size of a musk ox drooling on a leash. The last one was probably responsible for the poop in the parking lot. What the hell did his owner feed an animal that big? Truant children?

Can I help you? The receptionist looked over the counter, trying to spot his animal.

Oh, no. No animals for him. Pets seemed like so much trouble. Hi. I’m here to see Dr. Claesson about the new clinic.

Oh right. He’s expecting you. She stood up and walked to the door that led to the back. Why don’t you follow me?

She led him down a hallway, past a closed door that muffled a feline yowl followed by an alarming thump, and into an office. You can wait here. He’ll be right with you. She met his gaze and gave him a full-wattage smile. He gave her a friendly nod. Picking up a girl here, of all places…It wasn’t going to happen.

He wandered around the room and read the diplomas on the wall. There were pictures of Dr. Claesson with all kinds of animals, cats, dogs, horses…A giraffe. Whoa, sure as shit, there was the vet with a damn giraffe. Cool.

He stepped over to the book shelf. Nothing there but reference books and stuff. On the desk sat a photo of the man’s family taken about fifteen years before, based on the clothes. Dr. Claesson had a pretty blonde wife, five handsome blond sons and one gorgeous blonde daughter who had almost been Lee’s wife.

The room was stifling all of a sudden. He plucked at the front of his shirt and told himself to calm down. Taking a seat in front of the desk, he pulled the blueprints from the folder. He spread the papers out, then scanned them for the millionth time. It was a fairly standard layout: big lobby, five exam rooms, surgery, office and boarding kennels in the back.

This wasn’t the type of job he normally preferred, but it was going to be a quick one and the money would allow him to take other, less lucrative jobs that would require more creativity. Besides, he hadn’t been able to figure out a way to graciously say no.

Lee, Dr. Claesson said his name in a good-natured bellow as he walked in and shut the door. How are you today?

He stood and shook the veterinarian’s hand. Afternoon, Doc. I’m good. You?

Eh, the doctor said with a smile. It’s always a good day when I’m not wearing Band-Aids.

Lee chuckled. In my line of work, we just close up cuts with some duct tape and move on.

Right. But then again, your customers probably don’t bite you on a regular basis. The doctor took a seat behind the desk. Are these my plans?

Yes, sir. He leaned over the desk with one hand and pointed to the drawings. Here is the lobby, exam rooms here on the left, passage along there is the lab and an operating suite, and an office right here— Lee touched the paper on the far side, —in the back.

Dr. Claesson smiled. That looks great. And you put in the electrical requirements I mentioned?

Yep. Lee reached behind him for the folder and pulled out a typed sheet. Here are the changes in the estimates. Nothing big.

The doctor nodded. Fine, fine. When do we get started?

Permits will be ready by the end of the week. Grading will sta—

The door to the office opened and an agitated female was already talking a mile a minute as she strode into the room. Dad, I’m not taking Mr. Phillips anymore. There’s nothing wrong with that cat of his. I’m telling you, he just wants to hit on me.

Candace Claesson. Lee could only stare.

She spotted him and came to a quick stop. Oh.

Lee is doing the construction on the new site. The doctor was busy going over the estimate sheets and paid no attention to the silence that sucked the air out of the rest of the office.

She was still the most heart-stoppingly lovely woman he had ever seen. Her butter-yellow hair was pulled back in a long braid. He wanted to ask how she’d been. If she was happy. Was she seeing anyone? He wanted to snub her. Or call her a witch, then wrap his arms around her and kiss her until they both couldn’t breathe. Instead he snapped his jaw closed and looked at his paperwork.

I’m sorry. She shifted her gaze to her father. I didn’t know you had someone in here.

Someone? He was just someone these days?

He’s here to finalize the contracts. Construction starts next week. Her father looked up from the paperwork. Want to see what it’ll look like? Where are those renderings you emailed that last time, Lee?

Uh, right here, Doc. He found them in the folder with the permit applications and receipts. He handed them to Candy. I didn’t know you were back. If he’d known, he would have been prepared. Or maybe he wouldn’t have taken this job in the first place.

Long, slim fingers took the mock ups. She made brief eye contact with him before she bent her head to the sketches. Her eyes were such a vivid blue, he’d often thought he couldn’t have been remembering them right. No one had eyes like that. No one but Candy.

I just got back about two months ago. She flipped the pages in her hand. This is nice, Dad.

I’m glad you came in, he told her. You really should be here, since you’re going to be Lee’s point person.

Candy’s head whipped up and she glared at her father. Point person?

Dr. Claesson continued to look over the estimates, running a finger down the long column. Paint, tile. All that stuff. You know I can’t tell what will look good, and you might as well pick stuff you like.

She turned her whole body away from Lee to address her father in a stern voice. Dad, I don’t think that’s…Um, I think Mom would be better for that.

Lee’s brain caught up to the conversation. He was going to be seeing a lot of her, then. It was too late to get out of it now. This seriously complicated an easy construction job.

Her father folded the plans and handed them back to Lee. It’s your clinic to run, Candace, he told her in a fatherly tone that easily translated into stop being a brat.

Lee gathered his paperwork and folders and extended his hand to Dr. Claesson. I’ll talk with you next week, sir. He turned and offered a business card to Candy. It was great to see you again. Call me if you have any questions about the construction. He gave her a wide, friendly smile that he hoped said that it was nice to see her and absolutely nothing else.

She gave him her fake beauty-queen smile. You too. And I will. She indicated his card.

Lee was tapping his brother Mark’s number with shaking fingers before he even made it outside the building. Dude! he yelled into the phone. You are never going to freaking believe who I just saw. I am so fucked.

Daddy. Candace looked at her father. How could you hire Lee Bennett to build the new clinic?

Her father’s chair squeaked as he leaned back. He has a great reputation. Besides, we know him. I won’t have to worry he’ll cheat us.

She shook her head. We don’t know him anymore. Maybe she’d never really known him at all. Or she’d known him too well. Whichever it was, she didn’t want to know him now. She didn’t hate him anymore, but seeing him again when she hadn’t been prepared left her feeling prickly and antsy and a little sad. Now she was stuck with him until the clinic was finished. Fabulous.

Her father rolled his eyes. You don’t stop knowing someone just because you stop dating them.

She found it improbable that his personality had changed in any significant way. Being an unbearable asshole was sort of a lifelong occupation.

When she’d graduated from her veterinary program in Scotland and come back home, she’d done a quick internet search, just in case, and found out he hadn’t moved away. But it was a big city, and it had seemed possible they might never cross paths. The Lee she’d known moved in small circles that revolved around his family, bars, and sporting events. Her search had revealed several articles about his business in the local paper including office-building openings, an art gallery and charity work. His company sponsored a Little League team.

The worst part of it was he looked great. No, he looked sexy as hell. Five years ago, Lee had been hot in his blue jeans and baseball caps, working construction jobs.

Today, though, he had a business card and blueprints to accompany the jeans.

He still looked mighty fine in them, too, damn him. He had matured past the boyish charm that had been so attractive at twenty-seven and into a more sophisticated handsome. His face was leaner, his cheekbones more defined, but those green eyes looked exactly the same. Candy had felt an unexpected pang of…what? Loss? Regret? Maybe she would feel better now if she’d clobbered him over the head with his stupid blueprints.

The card in her hand said Bennett Construction and his phone number, thick black printing against a field of cream. Very responsible looking. Why she’d think his business would be anything but, she didn’t know. A lack of responsibility had never been his problem.

Well, she only had to see him a couple of times to iron out design details. No reason to freak out.

No reason at all.

CHAPTER TWO

Five years earlier

Come on, Candace. Megan yelled it right in her ear. You’re totally going to win.

I don’t want to win. She didn’t even want to be in the bar. She needed to be studying for her Toxicology exam, not prancing around on a stage.

Of course you want to win. You’ll get ten thousand dollars. Megan turned her by the shoulders and applied more gloss to Candace’s lips. Julie was using way too much hairspray on her.

She hadn’t done a pageant since she’d put her foot down at fifteen and told her mother enough was enough. The next seven years had been blissfully hairspray-free. But ten thousand dollars…There was so much she could do with that much money. She needed some new lab equipment. Next semester’s textbooks. It made her Glasgow dream not so unrealistic. She hated these competitions and her parents would have a stroke if she ended up in a beer advertisement, but if it got her to Glasgow it was worth it.

Megan was eyeing her chest. Plump up your boobs.

My boobs are fine.

Julie was scrutinizing the other entrants—women who didn’t look like they were being forced to enter the contest. All right look, Candy. Your tits are fabulous. Best tits in all of AlphaNu. I’m just saying that chick over there is freaking huge, and you might consider plumping a little.

Candace looked down at her chest. Julie grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and yanked, pulling the scoop neckline down until the lace of her bra was clearly visible.

Oh yeah. That’s good. Megan nodded her approval, then opened her eyes wide. You know what she needs?

Julie dragged her eyes away from the other contestants. What?

I don’t need anything. But no one was listening to her. She rolled her eyes and groaned.

Shorts. She’s got great legs.

Damn. Megan started digging around in her massive purse. I don’t have any scissors.

No. Candace said it with force. You’re not cutting my jeans.

Julie’s eyes gleamed with an unholy light. So we switch. Put you in Megan’s shorts.

Megan was a good five inches shorter than Candace and at least one size smaller. No. Candace shook her head, but they were already towing her toward the bathroom.

We’ll be right back, Megan hollered at the DJ. Just give us one minute.

They shoved her in the handicapped stall and piled in behind her. Megan had her shorts off in a flash. Her friend stood in pink cotton bikinis, her tiny denim shorts in her hand. Come on. Hurry up.

Damn it, Candace protested, I’m going to look ridiculous. But she unbuttoned her jeans and eyed the shorts. Ten thousand dollars. Those will never fit.

Megan was swimming in Candace’s jeans. Not a good sign. Candace stepped into the shorts. Yup, they just barely covered her butt cheeks. Julie tucked her T-shirt into the waistband of the shorts so that her cleavage was front and center.

Masterpiece, Megan declared. Your legs are, like, seven miles long with those shoes on.

You’re gorgeous. Well, more gorgeous than usual. Julie smiled gleefully. You are so going to win.

They escorted her back up to the front of the bar, Julie pulling her hand and Megan walking close behind, rubbing her shoulders like Candace was a prizefighter or something. She looked around the bar at the crowd. It was a raucous place that usually had a live band on weekends, outrageous drink specials and women never paid a cover.

The promotions crew from Black Sam Ale, a popular local craft brewery, was in the bar holding a contest for a new Pirate Booty Girl, which accounted for why the place was packed more than usual. Candace hadn’t been aware of the contest when she had been railroaded into leaving her textbooks and going out with her old sorority sisters. Apparently, her friends had found out about the event and preregistered her weeks ago.

Posters tacked up on the walls and table toppers showed a buxom model with her face covered by a question mark wearing the Pirate Booty Girl costume. Candace groaned. The thing looked like a ridiculous, slutty Halloween costume. The model’s breasts were hiked up by a purple velvet corset laced up on the outside of a frilly white blouse that was just barely decent. She had on a black lace skirt lifted so high by black lace petticoats that the model’s booty was showing. And to cinch the deal, black leather over-the-knee boots and a hat with a giant feather.

I can’t wear that. She pointed to the outfit. That’s embarrassing.

No, Megan said, that’s awesome. You’d be the new face of Pirate Booty.

Candace snorted. No. I’d be the new ass of Pirate Booty.

Julie stared at her for a minute, then leaned in and asked, Hey, do you really, really not want to do this? It’s a ton of money and you’ve got a great chance of winning, but you don’t have to, you know.

The DJ was on the stage revving up the crowd. The volume of the place ratcheted up about ninety notches. When a girl wearing a Pirate Booty T-shirt came over to where they were standing and leaned in to yell Is one of you girls Candace Claesson? she raised her hand. Ten thousand dollars was a hell of a motivator.

The promo girl handed her a card with the number seven written in big, bold print. Hi. I’m Jill. Here’s your number. Just hold it in front of you when you go out there so everyone will know it if they want to vote for you. Ready?

Candace looked back at her friends. They wore matching maniacal grins of encouragement.

Go get ’em, tiger. Julie waggled her fingers at her in a shooing gesture.

The honor of Alpha Nu is depending on you, Megan shouted.

She looked back over her shoulder while she followed Jill to the stage. How prancing around with her boobs and ass hanging out brought honor to her old sorority was beyond her.

Just think about the money. Just think about the money. She repeated the mantra over and over as she climbed up to the stage and joined ten other girls. All the other contestants seemed thrilled to be up there as they eyed the competition. Candace recognized a couple of other women from campus. Susie Bradshaw was the social director of another house. Veronica Dixon of Alpha O had worked with Candace’s house on a joint homecoming party. Candace couldn’t remember who the redhead was at the end of the lineup, but she was familiar from somewhere.

Her friends were at the bottom of the stage cheering like idiots. Work it, Candy!

The contest got underway and each of the girls pranced or jiggled their way to the front of the stage, displaying their assigned number with abandon.

Ten thousand dollars.

With that incentive, and despite Candace’s earlier misgivings, she decided to have fun. The crowd was raucous, and the DJ was rowdy. The hype was contagious. When her name was called she exaggerated her stride and did a full-on model walk to the edge of the platform, paused and thrust out a hip. She shifted ever so slightly so that her butt was aimed to the crowd, then slapped the number seven card on her ass. A coy over-the-shoulder look emphasized by a dramatic hair flip of blonde hair, and then she sashayed back to her spot.

The crowd went absolutely nuts. Megan and Julie looked like they were going to lose their minds. Her friends had been joined by a bunch of guys wearing baseball team uniforms and apparently they had been converted to Team Candace. The remaining three girls did their thing and the voting started.

The DJ stood in front of each girl and called for applause. There was some sort of hokey Applause Meter that moved a hand on a huge dial to give a score.

The other contestants were gracious, mostly, when they lost. There were a few snide comments involving silicone (uh, no) and bleach (totally not necessary), but the girls she knew from school congratulated her as they left the stage.

Candace stood alone on the platform and eyed the crowd, the Pirate Booty staff and her friends. She’d planned to spend the evening studying endless notes on toxicology, page after page of pharmaco-toxicokinetics. She might have even branched into viral diseases. If things got really exciting, there could be a cup of coffee with whipped cream and cinnamon in it for her. Instead, she’d managed to cover a decent chunk of the missing tuition for her first semester at vet school in Glasgow. Not so shabby.

Megan practically strangled her in a hug when she rejoined their crowd. I knew you’d win. I just knew it. Her enthusiasm was a bit frightening.

Meg’s just excited because she can’t wait to lord it over the girls at Delta. Julie cast a gaze at their friend, who was celebrating