by Tate James
“What did you do while they were gone?”
A vague anxiety had his hands tightening on the wheel. He took another breath and pushed the feeling away. “I managed. I put off going to town, or had deliveries made. I planned my trips so they would be during the off hours. I managed.”
She reached up and laid her hand against his cheek. “We all have our pain, Andrew. We all have our breaking point.” She ran a thumb over his cheekbone. “You did good.”
His hand came up and held hers where it was. Their gazes locked and something in him shifted. Letting her remain only a friend was no longer an option, not for him. He skimmed his hand down her arm to just above her elbow and tugged, pulling her sideways toward him as he leaned against his seatbelt.
Their lips met. It couldn’t really be called a kiss. But it was a promise, at least from him it was.
When he pulled away, her eyes were wide and brows drawn.
“Just something to think about,” he said, conjuring up a smile to ease the tension.
“Right.” She fumbled to release her seatbelt, then jerked open the door. “Think about. Right.”
He sighed. He had pushed it too far. He’d even told himself to go slow, but no, he just had to push. “You still coming over to help me get Dusty settled?”
She jumped out then paused with her back to him. She started to turn, when Carter’s navy-blue truck pulled in next to them, its engine rumbling. Why…? Stupid question Andrew. He’s here for the same reason you came. Annabeth draws us to her.
“Never mind,” he said. “You go see what Carter needs. I’ll get Dusty settled and let you know what I find out about any owners.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she finished turning back to him. “Thanks, Andrew.” She didn’t smile, but the deer-in-the-headlights look was gone.
He gave her a stiff nod and watched as she slammed the truck door and walked over to where Carter now waited. His brother grinned down at her and leaned in, saying something that had her laughing. Carter slung an arm over her shoulders and steered her to the back of his truck, plucking a toolbox from the bed and then taking them over to the house.
Annabeth twisted her head back to look at Andrew, and he smiled and waved. No pressure. No pressure, or she’ll bolt. He’d treat her like a skittish colt, or an anxious pup. Easy movements, easy body language. He’d be gentle, but firm when he needed to, and soon enough she’d trust him…
Carter spun them both around to face Andrew fully, and gave a mock salute with the toolbox. It was both a promise to look after Annabeth and a challenge. But the shuttered expression was gone, the one Carter had worn ever since returning from Houston. This was the old Carter—the one Andrew had missed all these years.
Yes, I’d been right. She’ll be good for us.
11
annabeth
Annabeth, her mind straying once more to the kiss that wasn’t a kiss, watched as Carter unscrewed the cover of the electrical panel in the garage. He’d shown up out of the blue, just like Andrew, and said he wanted to check out a couple of things with the house—things he claimed he would need to know for the shelter.
He grunted, tugged on a couple of wires, flicked a switch over and then back, and nodded.
“It’s not about to burn my house down or anything, is it?”
He shot a grin over his shoulder. “Nah. I just wanted to see what the capacity was. As I suspected, we’ll need to add another panel, probably two depending on what you and Jake come up with.” He bent over and pulled a small spindle of wire and some clippers from his toolbox. “I figured, if we could tie part of the electrical supply into the house, that would save you some money. And maybe save you a bit on bills.”
Returning to the switch he’d fiddled with, he did… something with the wire and clippers. His shoulders blocked most of her view, and this time her mind wandered not to Andrew’s lips, but to the play of muscles under the white T-shirt that was right before her. The shifts were subtle, and she found herself playing a game—trying to imagine what he was doing based on what his back did.
Then her fingers twitched and she fought down an urge to reach out and touch.
No touching. There has already been too much touching today.
But her urge to touch had nothing to do with wanting to kiss, or do something more with Carter. She finally admitted to herself that she’d been starved for contact, for touch, for the feel of a friendly hand, or arm, or just someone to lean on.
She had Andrew for that now. And she wanted Carter, and Jake as well. They were all so different, but she couldn’t actually imagine them without each other. The idea of Andrew on his own without his brothers had horrified her. Not because of his fear of crowds, but because it was just wrong for one of them to be separated from the others.
Carter finished up whatever he was doing and secured the cover back on the panel. “There. That should do you for a few years at least. I’ll want to double check a couple of those fuses in a few months.” He turned to face her. “Attic?”
Her brows shot up. “Why do you need my attic? What does the attic possibly have to do with the shelter?”
He shrugged. “Since I’m here, I figured I’d just double check a couple other things. I happen to know the Connors haven’t replaced the roof for at least twenty-five years. For shingles, that’s about when you’d want to pay attention.” He brushed past her and headed back to the main house and toward the stairs. “I’d honestly recommend going to a standing-seam metal roof. With a little more work, it’ll save you hundreds a month on the electrical bills.”
Her back stiffened as she followed along behind him. Who was he to wander into her house and take over? “I had an inspection done before agreeing to the asking price on the house. There’s nothing wrong with the roof.”
He didn’t even pause. “No offense to whoever did this ‘inspection’,” the sarcasm was more than evident in his tone, “but I’d like to see for myself. Believe me, you’ll be glad for it when hurricane season hits and the skies open up.”
They hit the second-floor hall and he stopped just under the attic access to set down his toolbox, then reached for the attic pull. “Think you could run down to the kitchen and rustle up something for this hard-working man?”
Oh, god, he had just said that. “Did you just ‘the little woman’ me?”
He smirked. That was the only word for his expression. But it was so playful, she found herself answering it, unable to be mad any longer.
“So what if I did?” he asked, pulling down the stairs.
She shook her head and turned away, muttering under her breath, “I should put cayenne in his tea.” But she headed to the kitchen and pulled out the Lipton’s. It was a hassle, she would just end up throwing out what he didn’t finish. He was helping her out, though, and it would be nice to know if there were any issues with the house that would need to be fixed in the near future.
Why did it seem like he was marking his territory? Like a dog… She let out a soft laugh and got the water boiling.
By the time he returned from upstairs, she had a glass of iced tea ready and waiting, and was sipping on her own personal, and lovely, brew. “Find anything?”
Instead of remaining on the opposite side of the counter where she’d set his glass, he scooped it up and came to her side. A faint scent of sawdust and dust-dust reached her, and she sneezed.
“Sorry. Dusty up there. And no, you look fine. Well, there’s an area near the rear of the house that I’ll want to keep an eye on. Looks like the area next to it has been patched in the last few years, and there’s a little water damage, but it’s not bad. No mold, no rotting.” He took a sip and his lips twitched. “Lipton’s?”
She shrugged.
“Why does yours look different?”
“Because this is not Lipton’s, and you wouldn’t like it.”
“Try me.” The words were not only playful, but a challenge. She had a feeling this is what all their interactions would be like, that slig
ht struggle for the upper hand, and… stimulating.
“You asked for it, literally,” she said as she pulled down a new glass and poured him some of her wonderful bitterness.
He sipped, grimaced, set down the glass and picked back up the Lipton’s. “That’s horrible.”
She laughed. “Told you. Also, I win!” She did a little dance of triumph.
He stared at her, a new intensity to his gaze. She stilled, her hands slowly lowering to her sides.
“Yes, well,” she said. “Is that all you came here for?”
He shook his head, but not in answer, more as though he was reminding himself of something. “There’s a few more things I should check out. Then I’ll get out of your hair.” He paused, his eyes crinkling. “Bethie.”
Her heart lurched then pounded. No one used that name. No one except Adam. And her parents, before…
His brows lowered. “What’s wrong?”
“No- nothing.”
His eyes narrowed under those brows, and for a moment she thought he might not let it go. Visions of being trapped against the counter until she told him everything, of being forced to confess, bombarded her. She didn’t want that, did she? But part of her—the same part that had agreed to the friendship with Andrew—did want that. She wanted a reason to open up, to let them in.
But he did let it go. “Fine then. Bethie.”
Her chest tightened, but then a new warmth spread through her. It was nice to hear it again. And his tone wasn’t mocking, or condescending. There was affection there, and a light teasing. If someone called her Bethie with that tone… well, that was just fine, she decided.
He finished up his tea, swallowing it down in great gulps that gave her a fine view of his strong throat. “Okay, show me where the water heater is. Never mind. I’ll find it.” And he was gone again, striding out of her kitchen and back to the garage. The water heater was in the far corner, and he checked it over. “Looks good. Septic?”
This one she could answer. “The field is in the front of the yard, so any construction in the back shouldn’t affect it. I’ll show you where the tanks and lines are.” She took him around to the side, and pointed out where the feed lines for the tank came out.
He studied it then set his tools down and dug around. “Okay, this one will take a bit. Might be a good idea to work on something until I need you again?” He twisted to look back. “Unless you want to just keep me company?”
“No, I have plenty to do.” And she did. She’d not made it into town as planned, but she had found at least one definite member for her board and a couple of leads. She also still needed to review and finalize the bylaws. She sighed. She really would rather watch Carter work than edit bylaws.
Hesitating long enough that her presence became awkward, she finally headed back to her office. Half an hour later, and four articles revised and triple-checked, Carter showed up at the door with a knock on the frame.
“Done with that. Gonna check some of the plumbing in the crawl space. Noted a couple more boards on the deck that should get some attention. Oh, and the gutters probably need cleaning out, but that will need to wait for another day.” Then he was gone, not even waiting for a response.
She didn’t even bother getting out of her chair. He was going to do whatever he was going to do, and the longer he was there, the more she was coming to appreciate his sheer presence, much as she had enjoyed Andrew’s. Usually strangers in her space sent her feet to tapping and her teeth to clenching. Instead, knowing he was there eased a tension inside her she hadn’t realized she held onto.
An hour later, he appeared again. She was nearly done with her editing, and wondering what to do for dinner. “Bedroom? I’m going to check the plumbing.”
I definitely have plumbing for him to check out. Her inner hussy chose that moment to take over her brain, and she just hoped she hadn’t said that out loud. She sucked in a choked breath and coughed. “Sorry.” She patted her chest, noting that his gaze followed her hand.
Yes, Inner Hussy whispered. Let’s keep his attention there. She sucked in a breath and pushed her chest out before she got hold of her wickeder self. “Right. Bedroom. I’ll show you.” She slipped past him and walked down the hall, unable to keep Inner Hussy from putting some extra swing in her hips. Not too much, mind you, not with her curves.
She pushed open the door and did a quick survey of her bedroom. The bed was unmade, and there was a small pile of clothes she needed to sort, but nothing too embarrassing. She stepped aside and pointed to the bathroom. “Feel free to poke around in the plumbing. Just let me know when you’re done.” Her cheeks heated at the startled look on his face and she retreated to the sound of his laughter.
There was no way she was sticking around for whatever comments he came up with in response to that innuendo. Though if he was poking in that plumbing, she didn’t think he’d need to tell her when he was done. She’d know.
He was in her home for another two hours while she worked. By the time he was done, he must have peered into every crevasse and cranny. Hell, he probably knew the house better than her.
“I’ll come back in a few days and start taking care of some of this ‘honey-do’ list.” They were out on the front porch, the sun just beginning to set.
“Honey dew?”
“You know, ‘honey, do this’ and ‘honey, do that’. A ‘honey-do’ list.” He leaned against one of the white columns next to the steps.
“That’s…” Cute was what it was, but she wasn’t about to say that. “So, does that mean I’m calling you honey now?” Why, oh why, didn’t she have better restraint? Flirting, no flirting with the troublesome triplet.
He shrugged, grinned and bounded down the steps and to his truck.
Two of them. That was two of them now insinuating themselves into her life.
And her heart. But that was not a thought she would allow herself for have.
12
jake
“What do you mean, you’re going to date her? What does that even mean?” Jake’s hands curled into fists as he faced down Carter, the asshole man-whore who’d never been able to keep it in his pants. “And, fuck you, no you’re not.” You can’t do that to me, to Andrew. He left the last unsaid, not quite ready to admit how much Annabeth had come to mean to him in such a short time.
Carter’s eyes narrowed and he rose from his chair. “I know what you’re thinking. And it’s not like that with her.” He paced around the kitchen table, then back to stand in front of Jake.
They were just behind the couch, where Jake had stopped short at Carter’s announcement. He’d come home from meeting with Annabeth about the plans for the shelter, his head filled with her scent. She’d had her hair down during the meeting, and it had brushed against his hands each time she leaned over to examine his preliminary sketches. It was all he could do to keep from burying his fingers in it.
Now, here was Carter, saying he wanted to date her. Again, what did that even mean for a nearly forty-year-old man who’d never had a relationship longer than six months? Jake crossed his arms. “Then what is it like?”
Carter scrubbed a hand over his hair and groaned. “It’s like… she’s all I think of. I’m finding excuses to go see her. She… When I’m around her I feel like there’s someone who finally gets me.” Carter dropped his hand and met Jake’s gaze. “That’s what it’s like.” There was nothing but sincerity in his eyes.
“Fuck.” Jake’s chest tightened and then his heart gave two hard pounds.
Floorboards creaked as Andrew took the last couple steps down the stairs. He must have been up in his office. His eyes were narrowed and locked onto Carter. It wasn’t anger Jake saw there, but suspicion and hope warring. He stopped a few feet away, angled toward Carter, and crossed his own arms, matching Jake’s posture.
“I feel the same way,” Andrew said, his tone even, though his expression didn’t change.
“Fuck.” Now they were in it. Though they often acted as his protectors
outside the house, Andrew was the eldest by a few minutes and often played the father figure when it was just the brothers. Jake and Carter were used to deferring to him, had long ago fallen into that habit. But Andrew had never liked the same girls as them—it was never a problem that had come up.
Faint barks and growls came from beyond the back porch doors. Probably Minnow, riling up his brothers.
“I’m going to let them in, and then we are going to discuss this.” Andrew headed for the sliding door, and soon the house was filled with rambunctious dogs clamoring for attention.
“Sit.” There was steel in Andrew’s tone, and even Minnow didn’t hesitate to obey. “Good.” They were given their rewards, and Andrew released them from the command. “Now,” he turned back to Jake and Carter, who hadn’t moved from their confrontation. “Now, I will tell you what we are going to do.”
“What? It’s not like we can all fuck her. She’s not a—”
Jake’s fist shot out, catching Carter just under the chin and sending his brother into the stair rail. “Don’t even finish that thought.”
“Enough.” Andrew’s voice cut through the room.
Jake reached behind and gripped the back of the sofa. He dug his fingers into the leather, trying to stop the boil of emotions. His chest was tight, both with fury and a nameless dread. He couldn’t lose his brothers. He just couldn’t. This would be worse than what happened with Tiffany. In truth, he hadn’t been all that shocked when he found out Carter slept with her, and he hadn’t been all that torn up about it.
Annabeth, though…
Leather creaked as his fingers twisted into it. He would lose Annabeth, and he would lose Carter and Andrew. It wasn’t even an either/or kind of situation. He would lose them all. Because…
Because he wouldn’t be able to be around Annabeth and Andrew, see them together, and know he could never have her. It would be worse if she ended up with Carter. Andrew, at least, was overdue some fucking happiness. He and Carter could go back to Houston, knowing that someone was here to look out for Andrew.