Love Restored (5 page)

He’d gone to bed exhausted and still imagining Blake in that tank that told him to kiss her ink. The hell of it was, he wanted to kiss
all
of her ink.

Even if she confused him all to hell.

She’d come from money—that was clear from the estate itself—but now worked as a piercer at Montgomery Ink and wore clothes to fit each persona. He didn’t like not knowing which was the
real
Blake, and because of that, he’d come off surly.

The fact that she wouldn’t leave his mind just made things worse.

Now it was the next day, and while he should have had a day off, he’d spent the morning going over the blueprints Murphy had sent over while trying to get his head in the game for their new project. Maybe if he spent his time getting to know the estate and the secrets within its walls and foundation, he wouldn’t have so much animosity when it came to the former tenant. The old mansion had good bones, he remembered, but not much more considering the years of neglect. According to Owen, Blake’s family had owned the place for a few generations but hadn’t actually lived there for at least twenty years. They’d bought a newer, more elite place that had been a new build and required less maintenance. And because, apparently, the family hadn’t cared about the history they’d had in their grasp, they’d let the place go to ruin.

Graham ran a hand through his hair and cursed as someone knocked on the front door. Hell, it seemed no matter what he did, he wouldn’t be able to completely focus. Before he could open the door, Owen strolled in, keys in hand.

“Just let yourself in, why don’t you,” Graham said dryly. “I thought those keys were for emergencies.” He rolled his shoulders and stood up from his table, his legs annoyingly stiff since he’d been hunched over.

Owen rolled his eyes and handed over an iced coffee with Graham’s name on it. It had to be said, no matter the time of day, if Owen showed up, he came with some form of caffeine in his hand. The man sure knew how to pave the way, though Graham wasn’t sure why his younger brother was here at all.

“You use your key to walk into my place all the time,” Owen said dryly after taking a sip of his own iced latte. Too much sugar for Graham, but Owen seemed wired for it, and if their construction manager needed the extra perk to do all the paperwork so Graham didn’t have to, all the better. “Waiting for someone to actually answer a knock or a doorbell takes too much time.” Owen grinned, and Graham rolled his eyes.

After he’d taken a sip of his own iced coffee—
perfection—
he narrowed his eyes at his brother. “What do you need? I thought we weren’t going to the jobsite today because we like these things called ‘days off.’ A radical concept, I know.”

Owen pushed past Graham, walked toward the dining room table, and gave his brother a look. “Oh, really? You’re taking it easy over blueprints and order forms? Who the hell are you and what have you done with my brother?”

Graham grunted. “I do paperwork, asshole.”

“Yeah, but you don’t usually double check the paperwork I already did. What the hell, Graham? What’s up with you?”

He sighed and walked back to his chair, pushing a few things out of the way so he could set his cup down without the condensation from the outside of the plastic getting on anything. “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

Owen just stared.

“Seriously.”

“Oh, really? Nothing at all is wrong with you? Then why did I have to hear from Murphy that you were an asshole to Blake
again
?”

Graham cursed under his breath. “Murph gossips more than an old lady.”

“
Murph
is a little sore after getting his dick pierced, which you well know since you went through that already. And the fact that I’m talking about my brothers’ dicks tells me you think you’re pretty good at changing the subject.”

“You got yours pierced, too,” Graham grumbled.

“Actually, I got it pierced twice, but whatever.” Owen lifted a lip in a snarl before scratching around the piercing in his brow. His family really liked metal in their bodies, and since they weren’t at the jobsite where things could get hooked and where they weren’t meeting someone in a suit, Owen wore his hoop rather than a clear spacer. “Why were you an asshole?”

“I don’t know, okay? And I’m usually an asshole, so that isn’t anything too new.”

Owen sighed. “You just said you didn’t know, so therefore, you acting this way isn’t as normal as you’re trying to make me believe. You need to stop it, bro. I don’t know what’s wrong with you or why you feel the need to act the way you do around Blake, but it’s not only wrong, it’s also unprofessional as hell.”

“She’s not coming back to the site anyway.”

Owen threw up his hands. “She
might,
and that’s not the issue. She’s the executor of the estate and works with our brother’s woman. So get off your high horse and get your head out of your ass.”

Graham snorted. “That’s gotta hurt to be on a horse and have a head in your ass.”

Owen closed his eyes, but his lips twitched as a smile threatened. “You’re an idiot.”

“We all are. That’s what makes us family.” Graham sighed. “I’ll try, okay. I don’t know why I act the way I do around her. She needles me, though she barely says a word to me.”

Owen lifted his pierced brow. “Could be you think she’s hot and you’re all school-aged and stupid about it.”

He flipped his brother off. “Can we not talk about this anymore? Why are you here other than to piss me the hell off?”

Owen stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re the one acting all surly by my mere presence and the mention of a certain Ms. Brennen.” A wicked gleam entered Owen’s eyes, and Graham narrowed his. “If you’re so sure you’re not going all crush on her, maybe I’ll see if she wants to get a drink with me once the job is over.”

The thought of Blake and Owen out together, and worse, at his brother’s place afterward, forced a low growl from him.

Owen smiled and took a sip from his drink. “That’s what I thought, big bro. You have it bad for our little piercer. Seems to me you should be nicer to her. You catch more flies with honey, you know.”

He flipped his brother off again and looked down at his paperwork. He didn’t want to think about Blake like that. He didn’t even like her. Didn’t even know her. The first time he’d seen her in the suit with the raised chin, she’d reminded him of his ex. And while he didn’t hate Candice, he hadn’t liked her once the divorce was final. Just as well since she hadn’t liked him one bit either. When life went to hell, some pulled on their significant other more, while others, like him, pushed them away until they didn’t like the person in front of them…nor the one in the mirror.

The fact that Blake had reminded him of his ex had put a bitter taste on his tongue and made him feel like a jerk because she hadn’t done anything to warrant that.

He might have been able to push that away, though, until he’d seen her in what had to be her element. He’d reacted the only way he knew how—like an asshole—and now he had to deal with the consequences. With Blake working at Montgomery Ink, it seemed he couldn’t ignore the fact that she’d be a part of his family’s circle. He wanted to know why she’d let the house become what it was. Wanted to know why she’d hidden her ink and who she was under that suit. And why she’d become a piercer when it was clear her family had money.

There were two Blakes in his eyes, and he wanted to see which one was the real one.

And the fact that he did, told him he needed to stop thinking about her period. She wasn’t for him, not even for a night of sweaty, energy-crazed fun.

“Why are you here, Owen?” he asked again, pushing thoughts of Blake from his head.

“I came to talk about a few things with you project-wise since we have more than the house on the hill going on. We have to punch out on the Henderson place in a couple of days, and I want to take a look at another site and place a bid.”

The place on the hill was what they were calling Blake’s place since calling it the Brennen place had seemed off for some reason. The fact that they’d done that spoke volumes about the neglect that the old place had endured for so long.

Graham’s mind went to work, shifting gears. “We don’t have time for another bid. Like you said, we punch out at the Henderson place when we get back next week, and we still have part of our crew at Jackson’s. Not to mention, we haven’t even used a freaking hammer at the place on the hill yet. We can’t take another bid right now. We’re not the Montgomerys with that kind of manpower.” He was fine with that actually, since they each had their niche. They usually didn’t compete for places since the Gallaghers went for the smaller projects—as well as the ones that were purely historical.

The place on the hill being the exception since they hadn’t been the ones to place the bid in the first place. That had been the lawyers.

 Owen raised a hand. “It wouldn’t come up for a year, Graham. It’s on the historical society’s registry, and they are slow as hell at getting things done. So we bid down, get our other projects out of the way, probably work on another in between,
then
do it.”

Graham sighed. “Fine. I guess you know what you’re doing.”

Owen was already making notes on his tablet, his head down. “Well, yeah, as that’s my job and all. You run the crews, I run everything else.”

“Is that all you came over to talk about?” Graham said after they’d discussed the new bid in detail. “Because you could have waited until Monday for that. Or, hell, used the damn phone.”

Owen shook his head and pulled out two tickets from his messenger bag. “Austin gave me two tickets to the Avs game tonight since he and Sierra can’t go.”

Graham’s brows rose, and he took a ticket from his brother. Austin was Maya’s brother as well as the other owner of Montgomery Ink. Sierra was his wife. While Graham knew the other guy and was close in age, they weren’t best friends or anything. It was more that their outer circles crossed thanks to their siblings.

“Why didn’t he give it to his siblings or one of their forty cousins? They breed like rabbits.”

Owen snorted. “I was in the shop with Jake to pick something up, and Austin handed them over. I guess I was the first person he saw. Anyway, you want to go?”

Watching guys shove each other into boards, get into fights, and pass the puck around in person sounded like a damn better night than what he’d planned, considering he was just going to watch it at home in his underwear.

“I’m in.”

Since Owen drove, they were there early. They already had beers in their hands and were settled in their seats before the teams had even finished with their warm-ups. For Owen, being on time meant being there fifteen minutes early. Being there right on the dot was late. So, instead of making it to the Pepsi Center right as the lights started to go down as Graham liked, he was there, sitting down and watching the Avalanche and Maple Leafs pass the puck around on their respective sides of the ice. He liked watching how fast they moved as they practiced. It was a delicate balance between strength and flexibility since most of these guys were well over six feet and weighed more than he did but in pure muscle.

While the Avalanche were having a crappy season, and frankly, had been having them since Sakic retired in Graham’s opinion, he still thought they could beat the Maple Leafs.

At least, he hoped they could, since watching a game in person where his team lost sucked.

While he and his brother sipped at their beers, the seats around them began to fill in, except for the two on Graham’s side. He was just about to ask Owen about it when he spotted a very familiar face at the end of the row walking toward them.

“The fuck?” he growled.

Owen turned at Graham’s curse and snorted. “Oh, that’s sweet,” he said before sobering. “Don’t be an asshole,” he muttered before standing up. “Hey, Blake. Fancy seeing you here.”

Blake’s honey eyes widened as she took in Owen and Graham. She didn’t freeze, but Graham figured that had more to do with the fact that she didn’t want to step on the person’s toes in front of her. Their grouping of four seats was in the middle of the row, three rows behind the glass. Amazing freaking tickets, but now Graham had to sit next to the one person he was trying to stay away from.

“You,” she mumbled. “It had to be freaking you.” She raised her chin like she had before and went to sit down in the spot farthest from him, only to get pushed slightly as the man behind her took the seat instead. “What the hell, Derek?” she snapped as she turned around.

That gave Graham a moment to look at her tight jeans that encased a very nice butt and shapely thighs. His dick hardened, and he cursed. This was going to be one long game if he couldn’t get his thoughts off her ass.

But considering it was
right
there, all nice and perfect for his hands and everything, he couldn’t really help it. Owen cleared his throat beside him, and Graham turned away, cursing under his breath again. This woman was going to be the death of him, and he didn’t even know why.

Derek, Blake’s date—and didn’t that just rub Graham raw for no known reason—shrugged. “Take a seat, Blake.” He looked pointedly over at Graham. “Maybe you’ll get that stick out of your ass that’s been hell on all of us at the shop if you just talk it out.”

She grumbled something at him, her fists clenched at her sides, and Graham sighed. This might be partly his fault since he’d been acting like a bear with a thorn in his paw, but he wasn’t about to apologize. Apparently, he couldn’t quite
not
act like an ass around her.

“Sit down, Blake,” he said low. “You’re going to piss off the people behind you if they have to look at your ass all night instead of the back of your head. Not that looking at your ass is a hardship.”

She whirled on him, and he froze. Well, hell. He was pretty sure between talking about her ass and images of what he’d be doing to her if he were truly looking at the back of her head—in bed—his dick was going to have permanent marks from his zipper. And he hadn’t exactly meant to mention that he’d been looking at her ass and
liked
it, but this woman could make a saint sin.