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Falling For Them Volume 2: Reverse Harem Collection

Page 77

by Nikki Bolvair


  “I can’t finalize the layout until we have the space empty, but I’m sure it will work.” His arms tighten until I squeak. “I’m so glad Tomas punched Hughe. We need to thank him properly.”

  “Hey, I heard that!” Hughe yells as he climb back into the truck bed to lift down a box from the top of the stack.

  I laugh. “It’s not like he actually hurt you.”

  “He could have.” Hughe sniffs in affront, but his eyes twinkle. “He certainly aimed to.”

  “Wish I could have seen that.” Davin reaches up to take the box and staggers for a moment before getting his feet stable. He glares up at his brother. “A little warning next time.”

  “Here, Shiv, this one’s lighter.” Hughe stretches down, a smaller box extended toward me.

  I wiggle from Jameson’s hold and reach up for the box. Despite his warning, the light weight of the box still surprises me. I bring it down and stare at the thick bands of tape that crisscross the top before I give it a light shake. “Is it empty?”

  “It’s possible.” Hughe shrugs and reaches for another box. “We won’t know until we open them.”

  “We get to open them?” I straighten in excitement, staring at the rest of the boxes with more interest.

  “You were always a sucker for secret grab bags.” Jameson takes the box Hughe passes him and sets it on the ground before reaching for another one. “You’ll be sad when we discover they’re all full of used socks.”

  Davin shifts the weight in his arms. “This one’s not socks. Hurry up.”

  “Come on, we can start taking them inside.” I lead the way back into the community center and down the long hall to the double doors of the town hall.

  We set our boxes against one wall and head back out for the next load, bypassing Jameson and Hughe along the way.

  By the time we have the truck completely unloaded, sweat beads along my forehead and dust fills my nose.

  Jameson glances around the large room with a frown. “I think we can get two more loads over today, but once we start unpacking them, we’re going to lose floor space really fast.”

  I swipe my sleeve across my brow. “There’s buffet tables upstairs in storage. I can bring them down and start unpacking while you get the next load.”

  “I’ll help.” Davin springs forward with far too much energy.

  “Thanks.” As we leave the room, I gesture toward the kitchen. “There’s cookies, bread, and peanut butter and jelly in the kitchen if you want lunch, too.”

  Jameson rubs his stomach. “I could eat.”

  I’m not surprised, since he’d skipped most of breakfast, and he only managed half a slice of pizza last night before he fell asleep. The stress of getting this job must have had him in knots.

  “Make me one, too.” Hughe calls as he heads toward the front. “I’ll be right back.”

  “The lift’s next to the office.” I lead Davin down the hall and open a service door that hides the elevator from public view.

  He wipes his palms on his jeans, only adding more dirt, before reaching to push up the gate. “How big is the storage area?”

  “Half the building.” I step onto the large platform and wait until the gate closes once more before pulling the large lever that protrudes from the wall. “We keep the spare chairs up here, as well as the holiday decorations, and town history items that are too fragile to go on display year round.”

  The lift lurches into motion, and Davin puts a hand against the wall for balance. “Maybe we can figure out a way to safely display them when we start the remodel.”

  Happiness ripples through me at his easy assumption that they’ll help with my plans to revitalize the old building. We’d talked more about it last night during the slow parts of the movies, about working on it in the evenings and on our days off, and he’s getting as excited for the project as I was.

  I glance at him from the corner of my eye. “You know, it’s not a hobby project, right? I can afford to hire you guys as the official community center caretaker. No discounts.”

  He steps closer as the lift grinds to a halt. “Don’t you think you should see our work before making that decision?”

  I blush at being caught offering them special favor and glance away. “I trust your skills.”

  He moves into my personal space. “We were trapped on an island for nine years, we could be completely horrible wood crafters.”

  My head lifts in affront. “Even in high school, you were—”

  His lips cover mine, silencing my instant defense. Sighing, I sag against his body, my limbs turning to liquid as his hands cup the back of my head. Sweet and slow, he explores my mouth, his bangs sweeping softly against my cheeks as he bows over me.

  My pulse jumps into overdrive, and I lift a shaky hand to clutch at his waist and pull him closer.

  Davin, gentle, patient Davin. The desire to be with him pounds beneath my skin, becoming a physical ache to finally complete the bond we started all those years ago. His tongue slides against mine, gaining confidence, and I moan.

  His head lifts and he pants quietly. “I’ve wanted to do that since we woke up this morning.”

  I lick my lips to catch more of his taste. “Why didn’t you, then?”

  “Because”—his lips brush over mine, enticing without claiming—”I wouldn’t have wanted to stop.”

  Dazed, I lift onto my toes to keep us connected longer. “But you want to stop now?”

  “The bed’s a lot farther away right now.” His hands drop to my shoulders, then slide down my arms. He brushes a last kiss against my lips before stepping back. “Now, show me where these tables are.”

  ~

  When we come back downstairs, Hughe and Jameson help carry the tables off the lift, and we set them up in the town hall.

  Tiredness already drags at my limbs as I stare at the boxes waiting to be unpacked. I really haven’t kept in shape over the years aside from walking back and forth to work, while the triplets seem barely winded as they get ready to head back for the next load.

  Jameson’s hand on my arm keeps me in place while Hughe and Davin stride back out to the truck. “Are you sure you’ll be okay starting this by yourself?”

  I smile and straighten my shoulders. “I need the exercise.”

  “Don’t overdue it.” He pushes my curls back from my face. “We’re going to the pub tonight, so you need some of your energy.”

  Our plans to go listen to the Conolly sisters slipped my mind. It’s on the tip of my tongue to suggest we skip it, but the excited look in his eyes gives me pause. Did they have music on the island? Would they have wasted their limited resources on something like that?

  Somehow, I think they wouldn’t.

  I press my cheek into his hand. “Tonight will be fun.”

  “We haven’t danced much over the last few years,” he warns. “You’re likely to get stomped on.”

  “Don’t worry.” I laugh. “I’ll be stomping right back.”

  Relief makes the muscles in his shoulders relax, and he nods. “I look forward to it.”

  He turns to head for the door, then pauses and spins back around. In two long strides, he reaches me and scoops me up into his arms to press his lips against mine.

  Sighing in bliss, I wind my arms around his neck and tilt my head, eager to have him deeper inside me. Rough stubble prickles against my already sensitive lips, and my heart pounds hard enough that he must feel it against his chest.

  When he pulls back, I tighten my arms in refusal, and he smiles against my mouth. “Can we come back over after the pub tonight?”

  Nodding, I dip my head to catch his lower lip between my teeth and give it a light tug. “Let’s not stay out too late.”

  His eyelids drop to veil the heat in his eyes. “I need to go.”

  “I know.” Reluctant, I release my grip on him, and he sets me back on the floor. I rub my palms together as my pulse slows. “I’ll get started here. See how far I can get before you come back with the next
load.”

  “Hey, Shiv,” Hughe calls as he rounds the corner. “I forgot—”

  “Nope.” Jameson grabs his arm and drags him back out the door.

  Hughe sputters in protest. “But I just needed to—”

  “You can wait until we come back.”

  Walking to the first box, I shake my head as Hughe continues to argue all the way out of the building.

  Tonight should be lively.

  Crack, Snap

  Running my fingers through my curls, I tame the frizzy mass while my gaze fixes on the watch perched on the edge of the sink. I’m late and running later for every minute I continue to primp. I should have skipped shaving my legs, but I hadn’t paid attention to body grooming since mid-fall when the warm weather clothes went into storage.

  The triplets will already be at the pub by now, and I hate being the last to arrive. They headed back to their dad’s house after work to wash up and drop off the work truck. Since the pub is between my new apartment and their place, I insisted I would meet them there instead of wasting time having them double back to escort me. It took some convincing on my part, but they eventually agreed it would be faster. Which it would have been, if I took a faster shower.

  “Come on, girl, you’re keeping the hottie trio waiting!” Caira yells from the kitchen.

  She called the community center earlier and announced her plans to go see the Conolly sisters tonight. When I mentioned I planned to meet Jameson, Hughe, and Davin there, she came over early to walk with me.

  “I know!” I rush out of the still steamy bathroom, the wooden floor cold beneath my bare toes. “I just need to get dressed.”

  Caira’s head pops into view, followed by her body. “Are you wearing something sexy? A bang me now skirt?”

  I take in her outfit and lift a brow. “Where’s yours?”

  She tugs at the ankle-length, blue skirt that swirls around her boots. “I don’t have hotties to impress like you do.”

  I sniff and go into the master bedroom. “I know I’m biased, but Bradan’s not exactly ugly.”

  She coughs loudly, and I peer over my shoulder to see her fair skin stained bright red. “I don’t want to hear that from you.”

  “Come on, Caira, you’ve been eating dinner at the pub every night since he started his apprenticeship.” I turn away to dig through my closet and to spare my friend further embarrassment. “He’s dense, but not that dense. And he’s given you more than one meal for free.”

  Her voice becomes small. “That’s because I’m your friend.”

  I scoff as I pull out a pair of flowy, black pants. “He doesn’t give me free food.”

  “But he’s never said anything.” The bed creaks as she takes a seat. “He’s pitying me.”

  “I’ve never known Bradan to pity anyone.” I add an emerald green sweater, and with my back turned, I shimmy into my clothes. “Maybe he’s waiting for you?”

  “I don’t have the confidence you do.” The bed creaks again, and I turn to find her fussing with the fall of her skirt to more fully cover her legs.

  “Bull,” I scoff. “You flirt with every attractive man you see.”

  “That’s because none of that is serious.” Her voice gets quieter. “I couldn’t stand it if Bradan rejected me.”

  Shoulders squaring, I march forward and grab her shoulders. “Caira Tamlin Campbell, you stop that right now. Any man would be proud to have you, and I’m selfish enough to throw Bradan’s name into the pot.” I give her a slight shake as she glares at me through narrowed blue eyes. “Just imagine, you and me, sisters at last.”

  Her lips twitch, before flattening once more. “What if he won’t have me?”

  “Then, he’s a stupid fool, and there’s always Tomas.” I laugh at her horrified expression.

  She stands and shakes out her skirt, then tugs the hem of her sweater into place. “I think you’ve officially grossed me out.”

  “What’s wrong with Tomas?” My hands move to my hips in mock affront. “He’s young, he’s energetic, and he’s going to inherit McKathry Hardware!”

  “He’s twelve!”

  “Stop being dramatic.” Grabbing my boots, I push my shoulder against her to get her moving. “He’s twenty.”

  “He was in middle school when we graduated.” She shudders. “He will always be a kid.”

  “Then, you’d better work your wiles on Bradan!”

  “Speaking of wiles, I put your tea in the cabinet next to the stove.” Caira reminds me in a clear attempt to deflect my attention from her crush on my brother.

  “You really didn’t have to bring that for me.”

  “I wouldn’t be a good friend if I let you go out tonight without some in the house.” She lifts her eyebrows. “Unless you don’t mind getting pregnant?”

  “It’s not on my immediate list of things to do,” I mutter as warmth fills my cheeks.

  She arrived with the apothecary bag over one arm. I planned to pick some up this weekend when I had a chance to slip away from the guys. No way I wanted them to tag along on that errand.

  “Then say ‘thank you, Caira, for being so wonderful’.”

  “Thank you, Caira, for being so wonderful,” I repeat dutifully. We pause in the kitchen while I pull on my boots. “Think we should bring coats?”

  “It’s a bit of a walk to go without.” Caira pulls hers from the back of one chair and slides her arms through the sleeves.

  “But it will be hot once we get there.” I eye my heavy jacket. It will be annoying to carry around in a crowded pub.

  “How about I keep you warm on the way there, and the triplets keep you warm on the way back?” She gives me her best leer. “And then, you can have a private dance.”

  “Stop it, please.” I cover my face to hide the view as she sways her hips suggestively. Then, I peek through my fingers at her. “How about I get Bradan to walk you home?”

  She freezes mid pelvic thrust, her mouth open. “No.”

  “We’ll get you super liquored up first.” I nod, plan already set in my head. “He always walks you home when you’re drunk.”

  “But that’s all he does!” she wails in despair.

  Standing, I walk to the front door to open it, wait for her to go first, then follow her out. “Have you ever invited him inside?”

  She puffs out her cheeks and releases a loud breath. It forms into a cloud in front of her face from the cold. “Not that I remember. And if I did, he’s too much of a gentleman to take advantage of my drunkenness.”

  Grabbing the thin handrail, I hurry after her. “Then, how do you expect him to do anything?”

  “I’m a coward, I know that already!” She twists to glare back at me, and her right foot slips.

  “Caira, watch out!” Heart in my throat, I lunge forward to grab her arm as she pitches backward.

  A loud crack sounds as wood gives way.

  War

  My finger hurts as I stab the number into the phone once more. On the fifth try, I now have it memorized.

  “It would be faster to just go there in person,” Caira reasons. “They’re never going to hear the phone at the pub.”

  The ringing stops, and I hang up to dial again.

  “If I remembered to salt the stairs when I got off work, this wouldn’t have happened. I’m—” The ringing clicks off and loud music floods through the line.

  “Hello?” a male voice yells from the other end.

  “Hello?” I don’t recognize the voice, but Mr. McArthur sometimes hires extra help on busy nights. “This is Siobhan McKathry. Is Bradan available?”

  “Siobhan!” The voice warms with excitement. “This is Hamilton! Why aren’t you here yet? Those men of yours are getting fidgety.”

  “Hamilton?” I pull the phone away from my ear as the scree of a fiddle blasts through. “You’re working the bar?”

  “Just watching the counter!” he yells over the loud cheers.

  “Can you get one of the triplets?”

  �
�What?” His voice gets louder. “I can’t hear you!”

  “Jameson!” I yell. “Get Jameson!”

  “They’re on the other side of the dance floor!”

  Desperate, I go for a new tactic. “Can you tell the triplets I won’t make it? There’s been an accident with Caira—”

  “On it!” The line goes dead.

  I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it for a moment, uncertain of what just happened.

  Caira watches me, her arms folded over the back of the couch with her chin propped on them. “Are they coming?”

  “I’m not sure.” Returning the phone to the receiver, I check the clock. “We’ll give them fifteen minutes. If they’re not here by then, then I’ll go to your house for the spare leg.” My gaze drops to the counter. “I’m sorry, Caira.”

  A slender hand waves away my apology. “Siobhan, it’s okay, no one got hurt. I should have been more careful. And the leg was old.”

  “What do you mean it’s okay? Your leg’s broken!” I wave frantically at the narrow, wooden appendage on the kitchen counter.

  The calf part of the prosthetic isn’t much wider than one of the balusters on the stairs outside. Where the foot should be ends in a jagged break instead, the foot itself still stuck inside the boot that sits next to it. A stack of padding, which she uses to imitate the shape of a leg, rests in a pile beside it.

  “What will you do? You can’t waitress with only one leg.” New guilt piles on top to weigh me down. Caira doesn’t have a lot of money to spare, or she would have bought a better prosthetic by now.

  “I already told you, I’ll wear my old one.” She shifts around to get more comfortable. “If the triplets don’t show up, I can give you the keys, and you can go get it for me. It’s in my closet.”

  “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  She huffs with irritation. “I won’t die while you’re gone.”

  “What if the building catches on fire?”

  “That’s not going to happen.” She flops back on the couch, out of view. “You’re worrying too much.”

 

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