The Misfits Of Copper County

When you burn down your contractor's home... and kind of, accidentally invite him to move into yours.First things first, that fire was a fluke. A tragic, completely unintentional byproduct of high emotions, an ill-timed backyard grilling... and one very shirtless man.I only meant to confront Brewer-my maddeningly stoic contractor-about a few small concerns with the renovation of my historic money pit. Instead, I got distracted by his muscles (who grills shirtless in February, I ask you?), I tripped over my words-and my feet-and... well, my carefully-ordered life went up in flames. Suddenly, Brewer's living in my attic, his dainty teacups are in my cabinet, his slobbery dog is all up in my business, and I find myself renovating my whole future just as surely as Brewer's renovating my home.Copper County was never my endgame. Once I finish writing my article, I'm off on my next assignment. But between late night conversations, sledgehammer therapy sessions, and solving the Jam Cupboard My