by Lee Kilraine
I decided to pretend I didn’t know anyone with the last name of Madigan. I could live in that fantasy until next week, when I delivered her van and tried to squeeze enough information out of her to put a proposal together for her house reno.
I was half-listening to Eli tell a story about a three-year-old kid mistaking him for Santa while he was rebricking the fireplace at the kid’s house. I grinned. It was an understandable mistake what with Eli’s bushy blond beard, even if Eli was decades too young and fifty pounds too light.
“Hey, how’s the Madigan job?” Wyatt asked.
“Why’d you have to bring that up and ruin my day?” So much for my Tessa-free fantasy. The smile I’d had on my face wiped off in an instant. I swiped a hand through my hair and swung my attention over to where Beck sat. “I swear to God, Beck, you accepted this job as payback for some horrible, evil transgression I committed in our childhood. The woman is impossible. She has no clue what she wants. She’s spoiled. She doesn’t lift a finger; everyone seems to do everything for her. Guess who had to deliver her van over to the shop? Fuck me, I’m her delivery boy.”
I paused to let everyone finish snickering.
“She runs hot and cold, so she’s either ignoring my questions or in my face giving me a hard time. I’d swear she gets off on telling me no. She’s got a closet full of clothes for her dog. Clothes. For her dog. I’m talking sweaters, bowties, hats, and shoes. Which one of you snickered?” I ran my gaze around the table looking for the heartless bastard. It was hard to tell because they were all smirking.
All but Ash. He sat with his elbow on the table, his jaw parked in his palm, looking about ready to spit nails. Obviously, the Roughnecks were off tonight, or he’d be at the rink and not here gracing us with his frown.
I lifted my chin to him. “You doing okay, Ash?”
He raised one eyebrow down the table at me. “Probably same as you.”
Right. The bet.
“I’m doing great,” Eli said, looking his normal laid-back self.
“Fuck off, Eli,” Ash and I said at the same time.
Beck raised an eyebrow. “Anything I need to know about?”
“Nope,” Ash said, with a warning look down to Eli, sitting there looking like Ol’ Sunshine the Monk. Right. Of course the bet was no problem for Eli.
The last thing we needed was Beck and Wyatt joining in giving us grief during this bet.
We went over our open jobs, keeping everyone up to date on where each stood, highlighting any trouble spots.
“Two last items,” Beck said. “That tenuous idea of offering our extra office space to a new startup is now a reality thanks to Gray. He put together our ‘Pay It Forward’ grant. We’ll open applications next month.”
“Makes sense,” Eli said. “That small office is just sitting empty. Plus, it’ll be fun having another new person in the office.”
Fun? Doubt it, but Eli was the friendliest of us, so figures he’d like it. We remembered what starting a new business was like, and it felt good to be in a position to give another new entrepreneur a hand up.
Beck’s gaze moved around the table at each of us before he said, “Sinclair called. Said the lead he had for Ryker didn’t pan out, but he’s got another lead. When he confirms, he’ll be in touch.”
Ash frowned. “Just throwing this out there… Are we sure Sinclair can even find his ass with his own hand? I’m just saying, as a P.I., he’s got a lot of ‘leads’ that go nowhere. Is he stringing us along for the monthly fee?”
Fuck me, I sort of agreed with Ash. It was beginning to feel that way. But Beck shook his head and reassured us the guy was good. Ryker simply may not want to be found.
Which, fuck that. All of us working together had been Ryker’s dream back when we were scattered apart in the foster system.
“Okay, any grievances for the week?” Beck asked, looking around the table. No one said a thing. Very unusual. “Seriously? Not a one… Ash? Gray?”
Yeah, he asked us because we were the two who always had something.
I looked around one last time. Unfuckingbelievable. Not one grievance was brought up. I didn’t think that had happened in all the years we’d been in business. We all looked around at each other in amazement. Of course, Ash and I were down with man flu, so I can’t speak for Ash, but I was feeling too crappy to make the effort. Wyatt never complained. Ever. Beck was in love, so everything was fucking rainbows and puppies in his world. Eli figured he’d be winning one thousand dollars sooner rather than later, so what was there for him to complain about?
“Well, I think this is something to celebrate.” Beck smiled. “Who’s in for Big Eddie’s? I’ll buy the first round.”
“Sure, I’m in,” I said. “Why don’t we all go? It’s not every day Ash can make it. We’ll even let you invite Sam if you promise not too much PDA.”
* * * *
An hour later, Eddie was sliding beers our way. Beck proposed a toast—to our first grievance-free week ever—and we happily drank to it. I think the others were treating it like I was. Our grievances were usually small. Pretty insignificant in the scheme of things. Yet the weekly airing of grievances was a big deal to us. It was a symbol of our unity. The fact that even with all we’d been through growing up, we were a strong unit. Listening to each other was a way to remind ourselves that no matter how messed up our parents were—we could choose to be different. We were different.
We could choose to be better communicators and listeners. Basically better human beings than our parents. The years of screaming and fighting had taken a toll. We might give each other a hard time, get on each other’s case if needed, but it was rare to hear a raised voice among us.
I sat nursing my beer while Ash, Eli, and Wyatt got into a detailed conversation with Eddie and another bartender, Jake, about all the things that had to happen for the Roughnecks to make the playoffs. You can believe that Eddie and Jake had advice for Ash. And you can believe that Ash was not in the mood to hear it. Wyatt sent me a nod and headed out. Knowing him, he was off to study or work in the workshop where it was quieter.
“Is this seat taken?”
I turned to find an attractive blonde scooting onto the stool next to me. I did one of those nod and shrug combos. Because the seat was not taken. I gave her a polite nod, as she sat, but turned back to my beer and the hockey argument. Yes, it had escalated.
“Gray Thorne, right?” the woman said, and I turned my head to see she was indeed going to be chatty. “You and your brothers remodeled my kitchen two years ago. I’m Wendy Polk.”
“Hey, Wendy.” Her name and face weren’t ringing any bells. “I’m sorry, we’ve remodeled a lot of houses in the last two years, so…”
She laughed. “I bet. Ours was a bit unique. We had a pizza oven installed.”
“The pizza oven house. I’ve got you now. Your husband”—it took me a second to remember his name—“Wayne, made us one of the best pizzas I’ve ever had. Still using it?”
“Actually, no. Wayne and I divorced and we sold the house. Some other lucky family is eating the best pizza you ever had.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Marriage was a crapshoot. That’s why I’d chosen not to roll the dice. I guess now she and Wayne had to buy their pizza like the rest of us single shmucks. I stared at the last of my beer, contemplating if I wanted another. I could just head home and watch Animal Planet. When I was channel surfing the other night they advertised an upcoming special, “Prairie Dogs: One Big Happy Family” that might fill up my evening.
“You know, my apartment is only a few minutes away.” Wendy had leaned into my space when I wasn’t paying attention, and I pulled back a bit, startled. “Would you like to come over? For a drink?”
Wendy was a pretty woman. Long straight, blond hair, dark brown eyes, and a nice smile. She seemed nice too. But she didn’t do a thing for me. Which on one h
and was awesome what with the bet. But on the other hand, a bit worrisome as I probably would have been interested six months ago.
“I’m flattered a woman as nice and gorgeous as you is interested, but I have to decline.” I gave her a smile to soften the rejection. It was tough out in the world of dating singles, and I didn’t want to dent anyone’s confidence. I tried to live by the “don’t be a dick” rule.
“Sure, Gray. Maybe next time.” She smiled and moved off.
I didn’t think next time would change anything.
Ash bumped my shoulder as he grabbed the stool on my other side. “Fuck me, you really are trying to win this thing, aren’t you?”
“You bet,” I lied. Sadly, that wasn’t me trying to win the bet. That was me feeling off the last few months. That was me not feeling a single thing for a perfectly beautiful, willing woman. I made a mental note to call my doctor again tomorrow.
Beck and Sam came over to say their goodbyes. The two of them fit together. They worked. They made each other smile. They’d been sort of floating around in this glowing love bubble. Beck deserved every bit of happiness. But you know how when women fall in love, and then they think everyone else around them needs to fall in love too? That’s how Sam was lately. Which was messed up to my mind. If you fall in quicksand, you don’t try to pull other people in with you.
“Hey, you two. Don’t forget the concert at Walnut Creek next weekend.” Sam smiled her I’m-happy-so-I-want-you-all-happy smile. She had single friends she wanted us to meet. I loved Sam, but no thanks. “I want you guys to show up this time.”
I threw her a wink. “Love you, Sam.”
“You two aren’t going to come, are you?”
Ash’s eyes locked on mine, and for the first time all week, we both almost laughed. Oh, the ironic double entendre was priceless.
“No, no we’re not.” Ash shook his head, but leaned forward, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Behind her, Beck grinned. “Sam, stop trying to set them up before they get pissed. Let’s go take care of our own love life. I hear these two won’t be looking for love for a long while.”
Beck knew about the bet. Damn, Eli never could keep something quiet. Whatever.
“Fine. Stay grumpy single men forever then.” She pouted, giving us her sad eyes. Man she was good at it.
“You’re good, Sam.” I shook my head. “And I don’t know how you ever resist that, Beck—”
“I don’t.” He grinned, looking totally fine with it.
“We still won’t make it, even though you’re a first rate pouter,” Ash said.
Sam laughed as Beck wrapped his arm around her shoulders and steered her out.
“Fuck me, that’s getting tiring,” Ash said.
“You aren’t kidding.” I knew exactly what Ash meant. “I love seeing them happy, but that doesn’t mean I want to be wrapped up too.”
“Exactly.” Ash frowned, looking outside where Beck and Sam were locked in a kiss next to his truck.
Eli rested an elbow on my shoulder, and tugged one hand down his beard, looking philosophical as shit. Which was hard to do since he looked a lot like a blond biker Viking. “I’m looking for what Beck and Sam have.”
“More power to you.” I wanted Eli to have exactly what he wanted, just like Beck. I wanted all my brothers to be happy, I just knew that what made them happy wasn’t for me. “I hope you find exactly that.”
“Hey, Gray, you’ve got more company,” Ash said with a nod of his head.
I was afraid to turn and look in case it was Wendy back, and then I’d probably have to break my “don’t be a dick” rule. Before I could move, a delicate hand slid a fresh draft beer in front of me. I turned, ready to say no thanks, only to find Tessa was standing next to me, smiling.
“Gray. Please accept the beer as my way of saying thank you for dropping the van off to the shop for me today.”
I picked up the beer, lifting it eye level to look in the bottom of the glass.
“Oh my God, you did not just do that.” But she laughed, and her laugh about it made me smile. My smile made Ash sit up attentively.
“Hello. I’m Ash, Gray’s brother.” He stuck his hand across my space to shake Tessa’s hand.
“I’m Tessa,” she said, shaking hands with Ash. “You must be the hockey player. Gray hasn’t said a thing about you.”
Ash laughed and jerked his thumb to Eli standing next to him. “This is Eli. I’m guessing Gray didn’t mention him either.”
“Not one peep. Hi, Eli.”
Eli, being Eli, took one look at Tessa and said, “You don’t look like a ball buster.”
Tessa blinked over at me. “You think I’m a ball buster?”
How was I supposed to answer that? Other than very carefully. I gave her my best grin, the one that women seemed to appreciate.
Her eyes narrowed on me, making Ash laugh.
“I’ve changed my mind.” Reaching her hand over, she wrapped her fingers around the beer she’d just given me and slid it down the bar to Ash. “This is for you, Ash.”
“That’s the move of a ball buster,” I said. “Just sayin’.”
“I’ve got to get back to my friend. Nice meeting you, Ash. Eli.” Then her eyes were back on me. “Will you fetch my van when it’s ready?”
Fetch? “Yeah, I can pick it up and deliver it to you. Eli will be happy to help with that.”
“Thanks, Eli. Gray, I’ll see you soon.” She walked off pretty much forcing me to look at her very nice ass until she was around the corner.
“I’m getting a strong feeling that if Tessa had been the one to invite you back to her place, you’d have gone.” Ash gave me a curious look.
Fuck if I didn’t have that same strong feeling. Hell of a good thing I had a rule against sleeping with a client. And the damn bet. And a virulent case of the man flu.
Chapter 10
Tessa
Back when I worked as an accountant for a fairly large software company, we had regular performance evaluations. If I had to assess my own efforts as far as my plan to attract Gray, I’d have to say my sales were lackluster which could be tracked to a very iffy sales pitch and outreach campaign. In other words, I was failing. Spectacularly.
Sure, I’d known it was a crazy plan when Laura and Gigi helped me plot it, but either I really meant it when I said I was going to take more risks in my life or I didn’t. And I did. I was almost thirty, darn it. All I had to do was close my eyes and remember all I’d been through to know I needed to go after my dreams now.
I’d simply have to do better at all of Gigi’s suggestions the next time I saw Gray. Which should be sometime today, as he’d called yesterday to let me know the van was finished and ready for delivery.
My week had been productive. After taste testing my treats with some of the regulars I’d come to know at the local dog park I’d narrowed down to the most popular flavors, tweaked the recipes to perfection, and finalized my treat menu. Today I was baking a few batches that I planned to drop off around town as free samples. I had tunes cranking on my iPod, Sully keeping me company in his bed in the corner, and the first batch already in the oven.
The doorbell rang, which meant Sully went into alert mode, hustling from the kitchen to sit waiting at the front door. I followed, wiping my hands on a kitchen towel in a feeble attempt to get the bacon smell off them before opening the door.
“Gray! You’re here already.” I hadn’t seen him in a week, and I’d swear, I always thought I remembered how good-looking he was, but he was always more than I was ready for. “How’s it look?”
“Nice. Rick did a great job.” He jerked his head toward the driveway. “Come check it out.”
“Actually, I’m in the middle of a batch of biscuits. Do you have time to come in while I finish first?”
“Dog biscuits? That’s what s
mells so good?” He looked disappointed. “Sure, I’ve got time. Eli’s coming to pick me up, but stopped at the hardware store for a piece of trim.”
He followed me inside, squatting down to greet Sully, rubbing his belly in Sully’s favorite spot. I had no idea how Gray knew about his spot. “Hey, Sully dude. How’s it going?”
The oven timer sounded, so I moved on through to the kitchen, leaving man and dog to their bonding. After another quick hand wash, I checked the biscuits. Still soft in the middle. I set the timer for three more minutes. “This oven is driving me crazy.”
“I’m ready to work with you to draw up that proposal whenever you are,” Gray said. He stood looking over the oven. “It’s amazing it’s still working as old as it is.”
“I was waiting to see the van before committing to the reno, remember?” I took my next batch of dough from my stand mixer and rolled it out on my marble counter. The marble counter was the best thing about the kitchen. Wonderful for baking. I held up one of the cookie cutters I’d found in an Etsy shop. “Look, isn’t this cute?”
“Mini fire hydrants. Nice.” Gray moved to stand closer, bending down with his face near my neck. “I don’t mean to be forward, but you smell delicious, Tessa. What is that?”
“Bacon,” I said, grinning at him over my shoulder.
“Ah, well that explains it then. What else have you got?” He leaned to look over my shoulder. “A bone. And a fish, for the cats. Nice. Equal opportunity treats.”
“I honestly have no idea if cat and dog owners treat their pets similarly, but I figured, why take a chance at angering potential clients in the beginning?” I pressed the bone cookie cutter into the dough in offset rows to maximize my space.
“How many trays do you use when you’re baking them?” Gray asked. When I looked up to respond, his gaze was moving around the kitchen as if taking inventory. “And how many racks does your oven have?”
“Four trays, two racks.” The timer rang, and I stopped cutting the bone-shaped biscuits to check. This time they were ready, so I slipped on a pair of oven mitts, grabbed out the trays, and that was when I realized I didn’t have a clear space on the counter for them. “Ack! Gray, could you move the bags of apples from the end over there?”