“Tomorrow?” Murphy asked. “I’ll tell Owen, and he’ll put it on his precious schedule so you can’t get out of it.”
Graham groaned. “That fucking precious schedule is going to give Owen an ulcer one day, and it’s already given me countless headaches.
“It’s how we work,” his brother said simply. “I plan. Jake refines. Owen organizes. And you growl and grunt.”
Graham flipped him off for good measure. “Fuck you. And now I’m going to go smash a wall or two.” He looked at his phone again for the umpteenth time and saw it was too late to start the next stage early. “And tomorrow we’re hitting the roof.”
“Tomorrow, we’re going over my plans,” Murphy reminded him.
“Of course, we are,” Graham said dryly and wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “We can do both.”
“And when I piss you off, you’ll throw me off the roof?” Murphy asked, sarcasm lacing in his tone.
“Of course.”
They strolled back into the house, Graham a little lighter than he had been before. No matter what happened with Blake, he had his brothers, he just needed to remember that. They’d been there when his world had fallen apart the first time. It only made sense that they would be there when he tried to put it all back together again.
By the time he’d punched out for the day, his muscles ached, and all he wanted was a beer. He walked into his house, stripping as he made his way toward the fridge. He grabbed a beer, finished taking off his pants, and leaving a trail of clothes in his wake, finally turned on the shower. While that heated, he drained his beer and studied his naked body in the mirror.
He might be nearing forty, but his body didn’t look it, at least not according to the last woman he’d slept with. Though, in his mind, you didn’t get the width of muscles, the scars and marks on skin, and the years of living without actually living those years. He might still have the strength he had when he was younger because of his job, but even under the ink that covered his body, he was aging. And he was fine with that.
That meant he was living.
Unlike…
No, he wouldn’t think about that. Not now. Not ever.
Graham ran a hand over his face and looked at himself once more. He was covered in dust, cobwebs, and whatever the hell else had been in and on the walls before they’d torn them down. They hadn’t wanted to take out all the walls, but some had been added on in the eighties and nineties and weren’t structurally sound. Eventually, with Murphy’s genius—and yeah, his brother was a freaking genius when it came to architecture—they’d have the place back to its former glory and up to code, with a few modern renovations to make the place inhabitable.
But the process of getting there was one dirty business.
He got into the shower and let the hot water slide over his skin, taking the sweat and dirt with it. As he closed his eyes, he leaned one hand on the wall in front of him, lowering his head so the water could get his back. His body ached something fierce, and because he pictured Blake’s face as soon as he closed his eyes, his dick ached, too.
Knowing he was probably making a mistake, he gripped the base of his cock, squeezing slowly before sliding up and down his length, twisting his wrist slightly to get better traction. He groaned, imagining Blake’s talented hands in place of his own. And her hands were talented. She was a tattoo artist and piercer, her hands were her work, her art, and he couldn’t wait to actually have them on his dick.
He pumped his hips, fisting himself as he imagined Blake on her knees in front of him, sucking him off, her lips wrapped around his cock and her hands playing with his balls. He played with the piercing at the tip of his dick, tugging just slightly to make his eyes cross. But it wasn’t until he imagined himself eating her cunt, licking up her sweet juices and making her come on his face that he felt his balls tighten and the small of his back tingle. He came hard, his come hitting the wall before sliding down with the shower spray. He groaned, his muscles tense once again even though he’d just come.
He hadn’t meant to do that, not when he’d have to face her later, and yet, he knew he’d do it again. He couldn’t help himself. And that’s how he knew he was the asshole he’d come off as when he’d first met her.
Not wanting to get hard again at the thought of her, he quickly soaped up and washed away the grime of the day before turning off the water and getting out. He toweled off, running a hand through his beard. He should probably shave it off, just in case Blake didn’t like it chafing her inner thighs.
And at that thought, he cursed; his dick hardening once again. He’d just rubbed one off and, apparently, he was right back on the edge once again.
He kept the beard, got dressed, and went back through the house, cleaning up the mess he’d made in his exhausted walk toward the shower. He wasn’t usually this messy, and actually had the tidiest house of his brothers—other than Owen. But no one could top Owen and his damned label maker.
How the hell that man was going to find a woman to take him in, he didn’t know.
Grinning at the thought, he threw his shit in the washing machine, along with whatever else was in his hamper. As soon as he closed the lid, his phone chirped, telling him he had a new text.
His face broke out into a grin when he saw whom it was from.
Blake: So, what the hell are we doing?
He answered back with a grunt.
Graham: Well, I’d say something about doing each other, but you’d probably get all butthurt.
Blake: You’re an idiot, but that’s probably why I said yes to seeing you.
The fact that she’d texted him at all told him she’d been thinking about him. Considering he couldn’t get her out of his mind and had just jerked off at the thought of her, he was glad he wasn’t alone.
Graham: Wanna come over and eat?
He paused. Why had he just asked that out of the blue? Did he even have anything to feed her? Between this and the grocery store, he sure as hell wasn’t firing on all cylinders when it came to this woman.
Blake: Did you really just ask me to see your etchings?
He snorted.
Graham: I asked you if you wanted food. If I wanted you to see my etchings, I’d have said come over and ride my dick.
And why the hell had he said that? This woman brought out the worst…and the best…in him.
Blake: Not that riding your dick isn’t a decent offer, but I’ll need food first. I’m off tonight, so I can come over for a bit because apparently, I’m crazy. And no, I won’t be riding your dick tonight.
He chuckled, quickly sent her his address, and put away his phone while he figured out what the hell he was doing. He’d invited her over on a whim, and he hadn’t really thought she’d say yes. Or maybe he had since he really didn’t know her. But he wanted to.
Though she’d said she didn’t need food, he made sure he had snacks and something to drink other than beer, milk, and water. Thankfully, Jake had made lemonade a few nights ago, and it was still good. Between his three brothers and Jake’s significant others, he usually had enough in his refrigerator so he didn’t go thirsty.
When he closed the fridge door, the doorbell rang, and he frowned. He hadn’t thought Blake was that close, but maybe he was wrong. Anticipation crawled up his spine, and he went to the door, opening it without bothering to look through the peephole.
When he saw her standing there, the bottom of his gut fell out, and his world crashed around him. His body went numb, his fingers and chest tingling as he fought for breath.
“Candice.”
His ex-wife. What the fuck was his ex-wife doing on his porch? He hadn’t seen her in two years, and he’d been damn happy about that. He didn’t hate her, but he sure as hell didn’t want to see her.
“Graham, you’re home.” Her voice had that smooth, breathless quality he’d used to love so much. She was tiny, soft, and a little broken. As she’d been for five years. Her eyes haunted him. He’d done his best to fix it; even
knowing he’d never be enough.
And why the hell was she back? Why would she open those wounds again when he was just now figuring out how to be his own person and know the shadow of the man he’d once been.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice rough, a little cold.
She played with her fingers in front of her, her eyes downcast. “I wanted to see you.” A pause. “I needed to see you.”
He gripped the edge of the door, his knuckles going white. “I still don’t know why you’re here, Candice. I thought we said all we needed to say when you left.”
And that had been the kicker. She’d been the one to leave him. He hadn’t loved her anymore, but he’d at least tried to fix things when everything had gone to hell. And yet, when everything had shattered, he hadn’t been enough to pick up the pieces. Instead, he’d been left with cuts and bruises from the shards left behind.
“That’s fair,” she said softly. “But it’s been five years, Graham. I…I don’t want to be alone now.”
He felt the color leach from his face, his body stiffening at the reminder of what they’d lost five years ago.
“Don’t, Candice.”
“She’d have been ten this month, Graham. Ten. Can you believe that? We should be throwing a party with princesses or light sabers. Instead, she’s not here, and I’m on your porch, waiting for you to let me in as I bare my soul to you.
“Don’t, Candice. Don’t even go there. You’re not baring anything. You’re here because you don’t like being alone and, you know, I get that. You’ve always been the one who couldn’t be on your own. But you left before, and I can’t deal with you now.”
“You never wanted to deal,” she whispered.
A car pulled up, and Graham cursed. Fuck, he’d forgotten about Blake as soon as he’d seen Candice on his porch, and he could have kicked himself for it.
Candice turned at the sound of the car, and watched along with him as a long-legged Blake in all her inked and pierced glory get out, a frown on her face.
“Hey,” she said when she walked toward them, hesitation evident in her body language.
“Hey,” Graham said slowly. “Uh, you can go on in if you want. I’ll just be a minute.”
Blake raised a brow and pointedly looked at Candice. She held out a hand. “Hi, I’m Blake. Graham’s friend.”
Candice studied the other woman’s hand but didn’t shake it. “I’m Candice Gallagher, Graham’s wife.”
Graham cursed as Blake’s whole body stiffened, her face going pale.
“Ex-wife. She’s my ex-wife.”
Blake met his gaze and shook her head. “You know what, you do you, Graham. I’m out. I knew this was a mistake before, and I don’t have time for this kind of drama.” With that, she quickly walked away, getting in her car before he had a chance to even move forward. When he did move, Candice blocked him. Blake pulled out of the driveway and drove off, leaving him with the woman he didn’t want in his life.
“Who was that?” Candice asked with a slight edge to her tone.
Graham turned on her and glared. “She is none of your business. You don’t have a right to that, not anymore. You said your piece, or at least fucked around enough to screw things up for me. So get out. I’m done, Candice.”
“You can’t say that, Graham. We need to talk.”
“No. We don’t. We talked long enough already.” He needed to call Blake, figure out what to say to get her to come back. Or hell, for him to go to her. They were just starting out, but now it was all over because the past he wanted buried kept coming back to bite him in the ass.
“We need to talk about Cynthia,” Candice continued. “Our daughter died, Graham. We need to talk about that.”
He glared at her one more time before storming away and slamming the door behind him. He left her on the front step, her voice trailing off when she realized what he’d done before banging on the door with her small fists.
He didn’t want to think about Candice. Didn’t want to think about Cynthia.
His daughter had died, and he hadn’t been able to save her.
His marriage had died because there hadn’t been anything left to save.
He’d lost everything once, and now, he wasn’t sure if he had anything left to lose.
6
Blake could not believe she’d been that idiotic. She’d believed in someone, risked a part of her she hadn’t been willing to risk, and had taken a leap, only to be smacked in the face with truths and lies she hadn’t known were an issue at all.
Again.
Her hands choked her steering wheel in a punishing grip as she drove down the highway. She honestly didn’t know why she’d even said yes to going over to Graham’s in the first place. Sure, Rowan was yet again staying with her best friend for a sleepover, but it made no sense that Blake had said yes to coming over to Graham’s without a second thought.
Before she’d shown up at his house, however, she’d had those second thoughts. And third thoughts. And a fourth.
And when she’d shown up, every little hope she might have had for a normal, dare she say, relationship, had flown out the window. She knew she should have kept to her past, knowing what men did, how they broke you if you trusted too much, or even too little. She should have remembered the way Graham had been an asshole the first few times she’d seen him, and how he’d still been sort of an asshole when he’d asked her out.
He might kiss liked a damn sex god and rev her engine like no other, but he clearly wasn’t for her.
Graham had been married.
Sure, he’d said that the woman who so rudely ignored Blake’s handshake was his ex, but the woman clearly felt otherwise. Why else would she have done her best to put Blake in her place with that lack of handshake, the cool tone of her voice, and the way she’d said wife?
Blake was out. She didn’t have the time or the will to deal with that kind of drama. She had heap loads of her own to deal with. So what if she needed to use her hand to get herself off for the next few years? It didn’t matter that she’d broken three of her last four sex toys because she’d worn them out. She’d just save up for another, and get herself off like any woman with a healthy sex drive should.
She did not need Graham Gallagher and his beard of glory.
Her Bluetooth rang at that thought, and she prayed it wasn’t Graham. Even as angry and humiliated as she was right then, the deep growl of his voice might just make her orgasm without even trying.
And that was one thing she couldn’t let happen. Not now. Not ever.
Thankfully, it was Maya calling, not Graham. This car might be slightly old, but since she’d bought it used, it had a decent Bluetooth for the price. That meant if her kid called when she was driving, she could still hear her baby’s voice and be safe. And when she needed to be in constant contact because the world wasn’t safe and there were things from Blake’s past that never quite went away, spending a little extra on this used model was worth it.
“Hey,” she answered, keeping her eyes on the road. “What’s up? I thought the shop was closed.”
“It is,” Maya answered, “And hey to you, too. I’m calling because you’ve been working for us for bit now, and we haven’t had time to get to know one another. I know it’s late notice, but you want to come over for a drink? Or cake?”
Blake laughed. What was with tonight and all the random invites? She’d been back in this part of Denver for how long, and no one had entered her life in a way that mattered. She had her neighbor, who helped Blake with Rowan. That was it. Now, she had a group of potential friends at Montgomery Ink...and Graham.
No, she didn’t have Graham. She had nothing with Graham.
Graham had his ex-wife and his demons.
Blake wasn’t part of that.
“You there?” Maya asked.
Blake nodded, then remembered she was on her phone, and that Maya couldn’t see her. “Yeah, sorry, driving.”
“You’re using handsfree, righ
t?” Maya asked. “Because I’ll kick your ass if you aren’t.”
“I’m fine, Mom. I’m on Bluetooth.”
Maya laughed. “Mom, isn’t that awesome? I’m going to be a mom soon.”
Blake could practically hear the smile in the other woman’s voice. “Yeah, you are. So why did you invite me over for a drink?”
“I can watch you drink. Or we can eat cake. Border brought me cake, and I’m in a good enough mood to share it.”
“Why can’t you share it with them?” She exited off the highway, heading toward her home, but she could turn soon and make it to Maya’s if she dared.
“Because it’s boy’s date night and…damn it, come if you want to, don’t if you don’t. But just make up your fucking mind.”
“You going to talk to your kid with that mouth?”
“Fuck you, Blake. Get over here. You know the address. I have cake.” And with that, her boss—and apparently her new friend—hung up on her.
Blake sighed but turned toward Maya’s anyway. She didn’t want to go home and clean the floors like she’d been planning. She had work to do around the house, and sketches to tweak for upcoming clients, and yet she didn’t want to handle any of it. She wanted a friend, wanted to talk.
And that might be even scarier than taking a leap into the unknown. Or maybe it was taking a leap into the unknown when it came to sharing with Maya.
Blake bit into her lip when she pulled in behind Maya’s car. Since the other woman had mentioned it was boy’s date night, she didn’t want to block in Border’s or Jake’s vehicle. And since both were still there, apparently, Maya’s men hadn’t left yet. It surprised her that she was nervous about seeing them. Jake in particular. But considering what she’d just witnessed at Graham’s, maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised. Jake might not look exactly like his brother, Graham, but all four Gallaghers had enough traits that were similar that she couldn’t help but think of one while seeing another.
She turned off her car, closed her eyes, once more wondering why she was doing this, and took a deep breath before getting out of the vehicle.
Love Restored Page 7