Griffin cleared his throat beside them, and Meghan braced for his reaction. He hadn’t done so well when Miranda and Decker started dating, so who knew what would happen. However, instead of anger on his face, she saw…longing?
He blinked it away before she had a chance to think too hard, instead smiling. “Nice. Want some coffee, Luc? I need a caffeine fix.”
Luc ran his hand down her back, and she relaxed. “That sounds perfect.”
Instead of a fight, instead of questions and cautious glances, she sat at the counter with her girls, Griffin, and Luc, and drank coffee. The world hadn’t ended with her and Luc being together in public.
One small step and all that.
Only she felt like she’d taken a much larger leap.
A leap to what, she didn’t know, but she had a feeling she was about to find out.
Griffin
Life wasn’t supposed to be this hard, this messy. Yet Griffin Montgomery had no idea what the fuck he was doing. He stood in his office, the piles of papers, folders, and books looking as though they had bred when he was at the café getting coffee.
When was the last time he’d had a cleaning lady in?
When was the last time he’d cleaned up his own shit?
He ran a hand over his face, knowing he had to do something about his life before he fucked it up for good. His family kept getting married, divorced, having kids, and moving on, yet he hadn’t done anything for himself except fall deeper into his work.
Writing was all he had, but he couldn’t do it.
Couldn’t write down a fucking word.
He’d never been late on a deadline, yet his last one had passed in a blur of agony and self-doubt.
If he couldn’t write, what else did he have?
Nothing.
That’s right.
Nothing.
He didn’t even have the energy to play big brother with Luc and Meghan. He’d fucked up with Decker and Miranda, reacting before he could think¸ and now he didn’t know what to do with his sister getting serious with a man Griffin trusted.
Sure, he trusted Decker, but he’d had lashed out, screwed up royally and paid the price.
Now the words wouldn’t come, and he couldn’t figure out what to do next. Because without writing, without the characters that drove him to the next level, put food in his belly and a roof over his head, what did he have?
Nothing, he repeated once again.
And wasn’t that a damn shame?
Something needed to change, that was for sure. Yet he had no idea what.
Griffin Montgomery was in a rut and had no idea what to do about it.
Chapter Ten
Luc cursed up a blue streak then forced himself to take a deep breath. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with another supplier who had no idea what the fuck he was talking about. The man Montgomery Inc. had used for years had retired, closing down his business rather than selling it. When that happened, Luc and the others had been forced to look around for a new supplier. Of all the people who worked for the Montgomerys, Luc actually needed the least amount of materials most days. However, what he did need meant the difference between faulty wiring and a home someone could live in safely.
The current asshole who was supposed to deliver the new boxes and wiring hadn’t shown up on time. Luc pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his temper in check. He’d have to go to Wes and Tabby to see what he should do since he couldn’t work on the old wiring in their project house without something to replace it. It might not be his fault he didn’t have the things he needed, but it still felt like a kick to the nuts nonetheless.
“What’s going on?”
Luc sighed as Wes walked into the project house, his ever-present tablet in hand. “Stan didn’t show up with our supplies. He said he’d be here today because he didn’t show yesterday. I’m shit out of luck on this next part since I don’t have what I need.” He put his hands on his hips and tried to tamp down the anger. Fucking something up because it was his fault was one thing—that was in his control. Fucking it up and disappointing Wes and the crew because of someone else? That he hated more than anything.
Wes frowned and touched a few buttons on his tablet screen. “Well, hell. This is the second time Stan has done this. We went with him because he had a decent reputation and pricing, but this is shitty.”
Luc ran a hand over his head and mentally went through his list for the day. “I can work on a few things that don’t require new parts, but most of this house, as you know, needed to be gutted. The wiring needed a complete overhaul to come up to code. Most of that shit was from the fifties, and the rest was short circuiting.”
“I know,” Wes said, still frowning as he worked. “I almost wanted to just tear down the whole place and start over, but Storm would have killed me.”
Luc snorted then pulled out a couple sodas from his cooler and handed one to Wes. “The place has good bones. It’s everything else that sucks ass.”
Wes sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The man had worn jeans and a flannel shirt, rather than his normal slacks and button-down. Wes might like to dress nice, but when it came to worksites, he wasn’t an idiot.
“I have another supplier we can use since we’re not going to work with Stan anymore.”
Luc raised a brow as he sipped his drink. “Dumping Stan then? Not that I’m complaining, but most places where I worked before would have blamed me or another person rather than finding a whole new supplier.”
Wes flipped him off then took a sip of his own drink. “Thanks for thinking so little of us. Tabby and I have been watching Stan for the past couple of months since this is our first big project with him. He sucks ass. I don’t work well with ass suckers.”
Luc nodded, his mind going through what he could do without supplies for the time being. Not much, he concluded. “When you get a new supplier, I’ll let you know what I need, but I’m going to be running behind on this site for a while as it is.” That grated, but there was nothing he could do to make the house safe without new wiring.
“We’re all going to be behind since Decker needs shit, too, today. Fuck. Okay, Tabby and I will get on this right now. Do what you can for now, and when you run out of work, go to another site or help Decker and Meghan. I’m sure they have shit for you to do if you’re free.”
With that, Wes pulled out his phone and started out of the building. He was always moving from one thing to the next, planning and organizing things so everyone else could breathe. The fact that Stan had fucked it up for all of them wouldn’t sit well on his shoulders. Fuck, it didn’t sit well on Luc’s shoulders, either.
He drained the last of his drink, tossed the can in the pile he’d take to the recycling bin later, and made his way to where he’d left off the week before. He had a couple boxes to check before he completely ran out of shit to do in this room.
As soon as he walked in, he froze, then cursed. “What the fuck, guys?” he asked, stomping toward the newly finished drywall. “I wasn’t done with this wall.” He pulled out his unit and looked at where he’d placed the box before. It was now three feet to the right. Luc knew his plans like the back of his hand, and someone had moved the fucking box. Who knew what else they had done?
Jason, one of the younger drywallers came to his side, his hands in his pockets. “Steve said to put up the sheetrock yesterday. Did we do it too early? ’Cuz that’s not what he said.”
Luc pinched the bridge of his nose yet again. Jason was a nice kid, but he only did what others told him to do and didn’t have many opinions of his own. Or common sense really. “The box is moved, and the wall is up before I’m done. Now I have no idea what the fuck is going on behind the drywall. We’re going to have to tear this up so I can get a good look. That’s going to add more time that we don’t have on a project that is already a pain in my ass.” Luc’s temper ramped up, but he pushed it down yet again. He might get angry, but he didn’t act on it often. He’d explode if he did.
Luc stomped after Jason and folded his arms over his chest once he entered the kitchen. “Steve. Mind telling me why you had them wall over my workspace? We weren’t done, nor was it on your schedule.”
Steve raised a bushy brow. “Mind not telling me what to fucking do? You were done. Don’t blame me if you fucked up. You’re the asshole who only got the job because you’re fucking the boss’s sister.”
Luc blinked, the burning rage that had cut through him turning to ice. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You were done. If the boxes are messed up, must have been you. Maybe you’re not as perfect as you thought. You put them in the wrong place. Wes, Storm, and Decker will have to deal with your shit at that point.”
Luc prowled toward Steve. He towered over the man but refused to break the dick’s nose. “First. You ever, and I mean ever, talk about Meghan like that again, I’ll end you. You get me?”
“You threatening me, boy?”
“No, I’m fucking promising you. Any problems you have with me outside of the job we do here can be dealt with after hours. Fucking with my work because you have some twisted-up version of whatever the fuck you’re thinking isn’t going to cut it. Now tear down that fucking wall and let me fix the problems you caused. If I find out you were the one to move my boxes, or do anything else to sabotage my work, then I’ll make sure you’re out. You hear me?”
Steve’s face reddened, and he sputtered. “You think because you’re fucking that little bitch you can talk to me that way?”
Luc moved, his fist connecting with the man’s nose. The satisfying crunch was not good enough. He sucked in a breath, knowing he’d fucked up. He’d let his personal life get in the middle of work, and he’d hit a man. It didn’t matter that Steve probably was the one messing up his work, he’d hit the fucker because of his words against Meghan. Shit.
“What the hell?” Wes yelled as he stormed in, Meghan on his tail.
Fuck.
Meghan’s face had paled, her body shaking. When he reached out, she took a step back, and he froze. Holy hell, was that fear on her face? She was afraid of him?
Well, Jesus Christ.
“Steve, get the fuck off my project site. You’re done,” Wes snarled.
Luc gave Meghan one last look, the anger that had been building going full steam now. The fuckups of the day just kept piling up, and he had no idea what to do. He’d needed to let off the aggression, the rage, but in doing so, it looked as though he’d scared the one woman who mattered more than anything.
“I’m filing charges, you fucker,” Steve wailed, clutching his nose. “He hit me, unprovoked.”
Luc lifted a lip in a snarl, but Wes was the one to speak. “I heard what you said about Meghan, what you said about Luc. I also have a pretty good idea who fucked up Luc’s station. I’d have grounds to fire you for that alone, but when you bring in family? Then you’re out. We’re not a big firm. We’re the Montgomerys. You don’t fuck with us.”
“Fuck all of you, then. I don’t need you.” With that, Steve scrambled out of the room, leaving a blood trail in his wake.
Jason blinked rapidly between them, shuffling from foot to foot. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t know I messed up.”
Luc couldn’t speak. Anything he had to say would come out as a yell, and he’d scared Meghan—and Jason as well, it seemed—enough for the day.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Jason,” Wes said, his barely restrained anger leashed just enough. “Why don’t you and the rest of your crew work on that wall. I need to talk with Luc for a minute.”
This was it. He’d lose his job because he’d lost his temper. He normally held it in so well that no one knew he could break at any moment. Only today he couldn’t do it.
He still refused to look at Meghan. If he did, he’d see the pain on her face, the fear. Just the thought of it cut through him. Instead, he lifted his chin at Wes and strode out of the house, aware that every eye in the place was on him.
“Am I out?” he clipped.
Wes shook his head, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “Fuck, no. I heard what Steve said. I’m surprised you didn’t do more than break his nose.”
Surprised, Luc blinked. “I hit a man on the job, Wes.”
“Yeah, and he deserved it.” The other man winced. “Though he might file charges. We’ll deal with them if we have to, but you’re not losing your job. I saw the mess they made of your work, and I know that’s not you. That’s on them.”
Relief should have spread through him, but instead, all he could think about was what would have happened if Wes hadn’t been as smart as he was, and added on to the fact that Meghan hadn’t spoken a word to him and had looked at him the way she did, he had nothing left to give.
“We don’t have your supplies, and the tension is high enough as it is,” Wes said softly. “Why not go home and work on estimates for the next job or go punch a bag or something. I might call it early for everyone today. I’m fucking pissed that the little fucker would say that about Meghan and that he messed up our timeline. With Stan being a douche as well, I just need to get drunk.”
Luc nodded understanding. “I’m heading out then. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He gave one last look at the project house then turned away when he didn’t see Meghan. He’d scared her. He’d yelled, hit a man, and waved his arms around. He didn’t know about everything she’d been through with Richard, but he’d crossed a line. He wasn’t sure the other man had ever laid a hand on her, but the fact that she’d looked scared told him enough.
He wasn’t good enough for Meghan Montgomery. Hadn’t been before and sure as hell wasn’t good enough now.
When he pulled up to his house, he punched the steering wheel. Too much anger raged in his veins, and he needed a way to get it out. He got into his house, pulled off his clothes, and then put on an old pair of sweats that hung on his hips. If he’d been just a tad angrier, he’d have started on the bag in his garage without taping his hands first. However, he retained enough presence of mind to take care of his knuckles since he had a job to do. If he showed up unable to work because he’d been a fucking idiot, then he wouldn’t blame Wes for firing him.
He let his mind focus on the bag in front of him, his form meticulous. He’d learned with Decker years ago, but while he was gone, he’d perfected his stance. With each hit, he tried to let out the anger.
The anger over supplies.
The anger over destruction.
The anger over Steve.
The anger over his sister’s attitude.
The anger over Richard.
The anger over Meghan’s fear.
The anger over his own actions.
Sweat poured over his brow, but he shook it away. He didn’t relent, the bag beating back on his hands. His arms began to ache, his legs burning from his positions. Yet he didn’t stop. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he became aware of a harsh buzzing noise. He held on to the bag and cursed while he cleared his head.
Someone had to be lying on the doorbell for it to keep going like that. Not bothering to towel off, he stomped toward the front door. It seemed his anger hadn’t cooled off. Instead, he’d only tired himself out some, but the tension radiated.
He let out a breath when he opened the door to see Meghan standing there, a frown on her face. Fuck. He wasn’t ready for her to dump him. He probably deserved it with how he reacted. She also didn’t need the looks and whispers that came with him and her being together at work. He’d done his best to keep the distance between them on the job, but people didn’t care. They thought what they want
ed, and Luc would have to deal with that. It didn’t mean he wanted Meghan to have to do the same.
“You didn’t even say a word.”
He blinked but didn’t move from the doorway.
“You’re still not talking, Luc.” Her gaze raked up his body, stopping on his bare chest, and he forced his dick not to react. Just because he saw the heat in her gaze didn’t mean she wanted him. It was just a reaction. He’d scared her. She needed to dump him and leave.
“What is it you want me to say?” he ground out. His dick wasn’t paying attention to his commands. Instead, the damn thing tented up his sweats, rock hard and eager to be inside Meghan’s sweet heat.
Little fucker.
Megan narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to let me in?”
“Not if you’re going to dump me. You can do that right on the porch step if that’s okay with you.” Fuck it. He knew he was acting like an ass, but he didn’t want to scare her more. If she left, then he wouldn’t hurt her. He’d be the one left standing in pain, but it was better than her aching. He was too angry, too pent up, to deal with her then. If he reached out, if he gave in, he’d press her up against a wall and fuck her hard. She was too fragile, too precious for the kind of attention he could give at the moment.
Meghan rolled her eyes then pushed past him. He moved out of her way, confused as hell. “You’re an idiot.”
“Excuse me?” He closed the door behind him and followed her to the kitchen.
She pulled out a couple of water bottles and threw one at him. He caught it, still confused. “Drink something. You look like you sweated out every ounce of water in you. Not that you don’t look damn sexy all sweaty and mostly naked, but you don’t need to be dehydrated on top of everything else.”
He twisted off the cap and drank the whole bottle down, his gaze never leaving Meghan. She licked her lips, and his dick, once again, pointed right at her.
Traitor.
“Why are you here?” he asked as soon as he set the bottle down.
“I’m here because you left without saying anything.” She set her half-empty bottle near his and prowled closer. She set her hand on his chest over his heart, and he swallowed hard.
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