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Authors: Carrie Ann Ryan

Love Restored (8 page)

BOOK: Love Restored
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He tasted of his salad and Graham, and she knew she could become greedy for his taste. She wanted more, wanted the feel of him, wanted to wrap her arms around his body and kiss him harder.

So she didn’t and pulled away instead. “Okay, then,” she said softly.

He gripped her chin and forced her gaze to his. “I’m going to want to do that again, Blake. A whole hell of a lot.”

“And maybe I’ll let you.”

When he grinned, she knew it had been the right thing to say, only she didn’t know if it had been the right thing for
her
. She prayed she didn’t end up in pain again, didn’t break everything she had just for one man.

She’d done that before, after all, and she’d be damned if she would do it again.

 

5

 

 

Graham shot back the last of his coffee and already wished he had another one. After a long, sleepless night, his body and mind weren’t quite in the game when it came to his workday. Thoughts of Blake in his bed, in his arms, had kept him tossing and turning until almost daybreak.

He still couldn’t believe he’d not only seen her once more at the grocery store but had also gone on a weird ass date outside the damn place—and then kissed her near a parking lot. What had he been thinking? He’d asked her out, asked her to be his if only for the moment. The fact that she’d said yes and had sunk into that kiss surprised the hell out of him.

And yet, at the same time, it didn’t. They’d been circling around each other from the moment he’d first seen her at the house on the hill, and then later when she’d had his brother’s dick in her hand.

Despite the lack of coffee, he grinned at that thought. Yeah, he probably should be jealous as hell, but that was one story to tell if he were honest. Of course, now he couldn’t help but get a
little
jealous that she’d touched Murphy’s dick—however clinical—and not his own.

And he
really
needed to stop thinking about his brother’s dick.

And his own for that matter since working on the jobsite with a hard-on was a recipe for disaster. He pushed thoughts of Blake, her sexy as hell hands, and that ass of hers out of his mind and tried to focus on the wall in front of him. And because he was a Gallagher, and a man, just the idea of pushing those thoughts from his brain got him harder.

He had it bad, and he wasn’t sure why or how he felt about it. This wasn’t the right time for him to be thinking about a woman, and frankly, he’d thought he was too old to try something new. He’d had a marriage, done the family thing.

He didn’t need anyone else.

And the fact that he kept lying to himself about that spoke volumes.

 Graham sighed and took a look at his phone to check the time. He could take a few minutes’ break and try to get his head in the game because he had to take down a few walls soon, and he didn’t want to get hurt because he had his head in the clouds and his mind on a woman that intrigued him like no other. He walked out to the patio since they hadn’t started working on the large flat area behind the house yet and took a seat on the crumbling exterior quarter-wall.

What
was
he going to do with Blake?

Did he want her just in his bed? Or something more? For some reason, she intrigued him, made him want to think about her in every sense that sent warning bells through his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about her at all and especially for not more than a single night of pleasure. He couldn’t risk it. He wasn’t sure what it was about her either.

Yeah, she was sexy as fuck, but that wasn’t it. Or at least not all of it.

There was something in her eyes that drew him. Something that told him she saw more than she wanted to let on and had a layer or two she didn’t want others to see. She’d lived, that was for sure, and hell, he wanted to know what had happened in her past that had made her so cagey when it came to the house on the hill. Why had she left? Why was she the executor on the estate and not the outright owner? And why in the hell had anyone let the place go to ruin?

Of course, if they hadn’t, Graham would be out of a job, and he wouldn’t have met her in the first place.

He closed his eyes, raising his face to the sun so it could warm him, though he was already a little too hot over thoughts of Blake and the exertion of working on the site. Others toiled around him, hammering, sawing, and slamming into things. This was day two of demo, and with the size of the place, they still had a few more days to go. And while he was the boss, he really shouldn’t be slacking off, thinking about what the hell to do with a woman who had come out of nowhere and entered his life at precisely the wrong time.

“What the hell are you doing just sitting out here?” Owen asked, clearly exasperated. His younger brother had rolled up his sleeves with the rest of them to work, though he took breaks to look at his tablet and do one of the countless other things he worked on as construction manager. “We’re doing demo, and you’re taking a break, enjoying the sun? You usually love demo, and hell, you don’t usually let the guys work while you’re fucking around. What’s up?”

Graham grunted and flipped his brother off. “Fuck you. I’m not fucking around.”

Owen raised his brows and stared hard at Graham before looking pointedly around the empty patio area. “I don’t see you with a sledgehammer in your hand, working on the exterior walls and shit. And don’t forget, we don’t have this area on the schedule for a few weeks. You can’t just go off-schedule, Graham.”

Graham pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyance creeping over his skin. “Fuck the schedule, Owen. I mean, seriously, if we do something slightly out of order on demo day, we’re not going to fuck it all up.”

“Fuck the schedule? Do you even
know
me? And you above all others know that there is an order to demo day. You’ll cave the place in if you just start knocking things down. What crawled up your ass?”

“Nothing,” he bit out. “And take a look around, Owen. I’m not breaking shit. So stop freaking out. I’m just taking a breather while I think. I’ll get back to it.” He pinched at his shirt, pulling the dust-covered, sweat-slick cotton away from his skin. “I’ve been working my ass off since I got here and ran out of coffee. Just let me be.”

Owen frowned, studying Graham’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” His brother saw too much. They all did.

“Are we just taking breaks when we want to now?” Murphy asked as he walked toward them, blueprints in his hands. Graham held back a groan. Whenever his youngest brother showed up with plans, things were about to go to hell. Nothing good ever came from Murphy and his designs in the middle of demo day.

“I can’t with you two,” Graham bit out. “Just give me a fucking moment to breathe and then I’ll get back to it. Why the hell are you on my ass?”

Murphy raised his hands, and the top of the blueprints hit him on the top of the head. “Slow your roll, bro. I’m not on your ass. Owen might be since he rides everyone like that, but I just walked out here.”

Owen flipped them each off. “I only ride asses because, without me, no one would get shit done. And fuck you both.” He turned fully to Graham. “Now, what the fuck is going on with you? Why are you out here in the middle of the day,
thinking
”—he did little air quotes—“and not working?” He paused and smiled. “We only ask because we care.”

Graham rolled his eyes. “Care, my ass.”

“Hey, it’s Owen who cares about your ass,” Murphy drawled. “I’m just here because you two were, and I didn’t want to feel left out.”

 Graham sighed. He didn’t want to tell them about Blake, not yet. They would only razz him about it since he’d been such an asshole to her, and for some reason, he wanted this all to be private. His heart ached suddenly for a moment, and he closed his eyes, letting out one more sigh.

There was a reason he hadn’t wanted to get involved with Blake or any other woman. A big reason he didn’t talk about it, didn’t think about it—unless the day ended in y and he couldn’t help it. His brothers had been worried about this month with him for a reason, and the anniversary of the day his life had changed, the day his world had broken into a million pieces he only now thought he might one day piece back together into some semblance of the man he had once been, was looming.

“I just needed a moment to breathe,” Graham said softly. “I’m fine.”

He met his brothers’ gazes, and they studied him. They knew him inside and out, Jake did too, but sometimes, he needed a break from that. He didn’t want them seeing things he’d rather keep buried.

And that was one more reason to keep away from Blake. Because he knew she’d be one of the people that saw too much. He was who he was because of his history, but that didn’t mean he wanted to drag it out and look at it every time he felt like shit. The past was buried, and that’s where it was meant to be.

“If you’re sure you’re okay,” Owen began, “then I’m getting back to work.” He pulled out his phone from his pocket. “And by work, I mean make the next forty phone calls I need to because I’m getting behind just standing out here with my hands in my pockets.”

“And God forbid you get behind,” Murphy said with a wink.

Graham’s shoulders relaxed once his brothers began to harass each other. He knew they’d seen something wrong with him, and would probably come back soon to try and figure it out, but they’d at least given him this moment’s reprieve.

Owen nodded at them before dialing a number and walking away. That left Murphy and his damned blueprints in front of Graham.

“I’m not looking at your plans,” Graham growled. “We
already
have plans. We’re not changing shit.”

Murphy huffed a breath. “We’re on demo, we’re not building yet. And there are a few things we need to refine. It’s not a big change.”

Murphy’s ‘not a big change’ was always a damned big thing to Graham. Because while Murphy planned and
helped
to build, it was Graham who had to do most of the heavy lifting. His brothers were damned lucky they were family because between Murphy’s
plans,
Owen’s anal-retentiveness, and Jake’s artistic temperament, Graham needed a forklift to get shit done around the place.

“Not now,” Graham said, holding up his hand. “Tomorrow we can go over it, but I’m not doing it today.”

“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.

BOOK: Love Restored
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