4. Power Tools Can’t Fix This
Chapter 4
Power Tools Can’t Fix This
Ash
“W
e need to stop for coffee immediately,” Zane grumbles as he climbs into the backseat of my truck.
I throw a smirk at my hungover friend before thrusting a travel mug into his hand. “That’ll teach you to be out until three in the morning on a work night.”
“May I remind you, this was supposed to be a day off? I’m doing your ass a favor, so keep the coffee coming.”
“Fair enough,” I chuckle, pulling onto the highway.
Ori’s recent acquisition, the Dean Estate, sits perched on a ridge about fifteen minutes up the mountain. In her prime, she was the beloved summer home of a real estate tycoon, but years of neglect have dampened her glow.
Here’s hoping the work is mostly cosmetic and that rodents and mold haven’t gotten a foothold. Otherwise, Ori has one hell of a project on her hands, and, per her own admission, the woman doesn’t know the first thing about power tools.
Or hand tools.
Or blueprints.
The list goes on and on.
That’s where I come in, along with my two begrudging assistants.
Gazing into the rearview mirror, I toss Zane a lopsided grin. “Which one was it? The brunette or the redhead?”
“Both.”
I snort at Zane’s deadpan response, knowing full well the man isn’t joking. Like I said, three is his favorite number.
“What about you?” Zane asks. “What was your final tally?”
He’s referring to this stupid game we play, where the person with the most digits at the end of the week wins.
Look, we’re single guys and these women are more than happy to part with their phone numbers, but we never ask for a number. Not only is it unprofessional, but it also strictly violates the rules.
When they offer, though? That’s an entirely different section of the rulebook.
I shrug and crack the window, allowing the cold air to filter into the truck’s interior. “A handful.”
“How many have you called?”
“None.”
A gravelly chuckle rises from Zane’s chest. “You were right, Braden. She’s gotten under Ash’s skin.”
Once again, I bristle. Time to play dumb. “And who might that be?”
Braden and Zane exchange glances before laughing.
“Who do you think?” Braden says. “The woman whose house we’re going to right now. Ms. Oriana Thorne.”
I shake my head, drumming the steering wheel in an erratic rhythm. “What a load of garbage. I’m helping a friend because I’m a nice guy. That’s all this is.”
“Right,” Zane drawls, locking gazes with me, open amusement dancing in his eyes. The man is having way too much fun at my expense.
“I told you—” I growl out, but Zane throws up a hand, slowing my roll.
“Relax. I’m fucking with you, although Ori is hot as hell. Just saying.”
I’m tempted to reach behind me and grab my buddy by the collar to issue a stern warning about keeping his eyes off Ori, but I swallow it down.
My going apeshit will only solidify their belief that I’ve fallen into love’s trap, and I know for damn sure that won’t happen again.
Once is more than enough for this lifetime, thank you very much.
“Ori and I are not dating,” I mutter.
We’re not anything, aside from newly established friends who have engaged in the greatest sex this world has ever known.
We are the quintessential friends with benefits.
It’s a perfect scenario with zero obligation and full-on balls to the walls orgasms.
So why do I feel like an asshole admitting that fact aloud?
“Relax Ash,” Braden says, his gaze focused out the window. “After hearing Ori the other day, I realize you two agree when it comes to dating.”
Excuse me?
“How the hell do you know?”
And why do I care so much?
“When Ori dropped off the food, a woman pulled her aside and asked if you were single.”
“That takes balls.”
Braden nods. “I guess she could tell we were all friends and figured she would get the dirt from Ori. Woman to woman or some shit.”
“What did Ori say?”
Now Braden’s eyes spark with amusement. “That you were single and very popular.”
I smack the steering wheel with my palm. “Why the hell would she say that to a complete stranger?”
My brother shrugs, but the smirk never leaves his face. “Maybe because it’s the truth? All I’m saying is, you’ve got nothing to worry about with Ori. She knows where you stand.”
Then why does this knowledge bug me so much? Ori’s not wrong, but still …
“Fucking hell,” I curse under my breath, returning my focus to the road.
Thankfully, I know exactly where this place is, because the entrance is overgrown with vines, completely obscuring the address marker.
I pull down the long, winding driveway that leads to the Dean Estate, trying my damnedest to avoid the potholes which have taken up residence over the years.
“Ori told us to meet her at the carriage house, which I think is around here.” I drive around the house to a smaller structure that sits alongside an overgrown English garden. “I guess this is it.”
Braden’s eyes widen as he takes in the surroundings. “Holy shit, man. It’s been years since I’ve been here. Still can’t believe Ori bought it.”
“Me, neither. Did I ever tell you I considered buying this place?”
“Seriously?” Zane asks.
“I even mentioned it to Kiki, but she told me it had sold only a few weeks before at auction.”
Zane claps me around the shoulder. “And now, our friend owns it. Talk about a small world. I’m bugging her to throw a party once it’s restored. It will be sick.”
Seems we’ve beaten Ori here. Might as well take advantage of the free time and poke around the house.
It doesn’t take long to complete a quick once-over, but I can see why this project is intimidating to a layperson.
All Ori sees is peeling paint, broken windows, and overgrown shrubbery.
I see potential, and tons of it.
Plus, despite the cosmetic damage, there doesn’t seem to be any real structural issues with the house. She’ll have to upgrade the electrical and plumbing to meet code, but that’s normal in this type of restoration.
She got lucky with this purchase. Now it’s time to convince her of that fact.
Ori’s truck sits parked outside the carriage house as we round the corner from the front of the estate. Looks like the little lady is finally here.
“Ori, where are you?” I call out, my boots crunching across the gravel path.
“In here,” she replies from inside the carriage house. “Sorry I’m late. There was a huge line at the deli. I picked up breakfast and coffee. Help yourself.”
I find her in the main room of the carriage house, perched precariously on a rickety ladder, her face a mix of fierce determination and barely contained terror.
Braden and Zane make a beeline for the food, but I have a different destination: getting Ori off the damn ladder.
“Are you kidding? You hate heights. What are you doing up there?”
She clutches the ladder with one hand and points toward a few books on the top shelf of the bookcase. “I think they’re first editions.”
“I don’t care if they’re the original printing of the bible. Nothing is worth you getting hurt.” I grab her around the waist, pulling her to safety.
“Thanks for the save, cowboy.” Ori giggles, reaching up to stroke my jaw, but I freeze at the term of endearment.
It’s not because I dislike her use of nicknames, but because Lucille used the exact same term with me.
I step back from Ori, cracking my knuckles as I realize my five-minute chat with my ex-girlfriend the other day has done more damage than I care to admit.
It’s triggered an avalanche of memories I spent years trying to forget.
Memories of when I still believed in love and happily ever after.
I force a smile as I struggle to regain my emotional center.
Braden is right. I need to stay as far away from Lucille as possible.
It’s not just my heart on the line, it’s my sanity.
Ori picks up on the shift in my disposition.
“Ash? Are you okay?”
“Actually, I’m not.”
She clears her throat, the smile falling from her face. “Uh-oh. Did I do something?”
Since I refuse to dive into the abyss of my life with Lucille, I decide to focus on something directly involving Oriana.
“Did you tell some woman to give me her number?” I ask, crossing my arms as I lean against the bookcase.
“The other day?”
My jaw slackens at her response. “Has there been more than one?”
Ori rolls her eyes and offers me a casual shrug. “Truthfully? It’s a daily occurrence. But no, I’m not giving anyone your number or telling them to hand off theirs. I’m fully aware of your bachelor status, but I draw the line at helping you field women.”
At least this topic annoys her, because it sure as hell annoys me.
“You’re pawning me off on other women?” I push off the bookcase, narrowing my gaze at her.
Ori huffs out a breath, clearly aggravated. “Hardly.”
“Then why talk to them?”
“Because they ask about you. Constantly.” She throws her hands up in exasperation. “What should I tell them? Tell me what to say, so I’ll know for future reference.”
“Tell them I’m not interested.”
The side of her mouth quirks upward. “Blanket statement? Regardless of how hot or sexy she may be?”
“Yes.”
“Really? Okay.”
I cup her face, tracing my thumbs along her cheeks. “No more hunting dates for me. If someone wants to approach me, they can ask me directly.”
Definitely the wrong response.
A muscle jumps in Ori’s jaw. “Got it. Did you guys look at the house?”
She’s desperate to change the topic. I’m desperate to provide her some reassurance.
“I’m not calling her, Ori.”
But my words don’t have the intended effect as she averts her gaze. “She will be bitterly disappointed, I’m sure.”
Zane walks over, waving around a half-eaten sandwich. “I can’t believe you got meatballs and eggs. Best sandwich ever.”
“I overheard you saying something about it the other day,” Ori says offhandedly. “I hope it’s good.”
“Amazing,” Zane replies, shoving another bite into his mouth. “Ori, how about you forget this guy and marry me instead?”
A grin breaks across Ori’s face at his offer, but I’m not smiling. I glower at my buddy over Ori’s head. Doesn’t matter if he’s kidding. This is the second time he’s mentioned stealing Ori from me.
He’ll learn the hard way I don’t share.
As if picking up on the tension, Ori points to the table and chairs in the center of the room. “Come on, guys. I know you’re putting your social lives on hold to help me out, so let’s not waste anymore of your weekend.”
We gather around the table and dig into our breakfast. Figures the woman would bring us a gourmet feast.
“I’m going to ask the question that we’re all wondering,” Zane proclaims, pointing a finger at Ori before stuffing the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. “How in the world did you afford this place? Are you secretly a queen of some small but wildly wealthy land?”
“Of course,” Ori replies, not missing a beat as she waves her hand with a regal air. “An evil queen, to be sure, and you’re all now my captors.”
Then she laughs and I realize how different she sounds from Lucille. While both women have smooth voices, Ori’s laughter is lilting. Kinder.
It stirs something in me, along with pretty much every other facet of Ori’s personality.
If only …
Ori wraps her hands around her coffee cup, her expression pensive. “I received an inheritance from an estranged relative. I held onto the money for the first year because I had no clue what to do with it. Part of me wanted to cash it in and set it all on fire, but that seemed silly and dramatic—plus a total waste of lighter fluid.”
“Next time you come across a pile of cash you don’t want, I’ll take it,” Braden offers with a grin.
“Deal.” She shakes her head as she glances around the carriage house. “My parents used to bring me here as a little girl for the fall festival and every time, without fail, I made them drive past the Dean Estate. When I moved here, I asked Kiki about the place. Just as a lark, you know? She told me about the auction and before I could think through my crazy scheme, I bought it. Pissed off some developers big-time in the process.”
“Damn, woman. That’s impressive.” I loop my arm around her shoulder, pulling her into my embrace.
But Ori slips from the cocoon of my arms and begins pacing the wooden floor. “Enough stalling. Lay it out for me. Was this a good purchase or the dumbest idea of my life?”
“It’s not that bad,” I state, but my words do little to reassure her as her gaze falls on my brother.
“Is he just saying that?”
Braden chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s going to take some work, but at first glance, she’s solid. No evidence of mold, which is a huge plus.”
“Granted, we won’t know the full extent until we tear out the walls, but I’m telling you, this house has good bones.”
“Just needs a little love,” Ori sighs, playing with the end of her long braid. “Don’t we all?”
I don’t respond to her comment, although I’m fully aware she’s repeating my words back to me.
However, her version has a far different meaning attached to it.
Look, I get it. Ori is the type of woman who wants the whole happily ever after scenario. I want her to have it, too.
Even if it kills me to know it’s not a possibility with me.
But I have no desire to dive into that sticky conversation. Far safer to keep us on task and focus on the house.
I grab my coffee and move to the far side of the carriage house, leaning against the wall with a sigh. “Here’s the deal: the main house is going to take months, maybe even a year, of full-time restoration. It’ll require all kinds of skilled craftsmen to pull it off.”
Ori buries her face in her hands. “That bad?”
“Hey.” I walk over to her and put a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “I haven’t gotten to the good part yet. They turned the carriage house into a two-bedroom apartment probably twenty years ago, so it won’t take much to make this space livable—buy some new windows, cabinets, appliances, polish the floors and throw on a fresh coat of paint.”
I mean my words to soothe her, but the furrow creasing her brow only deepens with every sentence.
“So basically, a total overhaul? What was I thinking?” Ori swings her arms, her eyes bright with tears. “I must have been certifiable that day at the auction to think I could move to a new town, open a store, and renovate a dilapidated mansion all in one go.”
“Nah, just determined. Like I said, I’m glad you bought it. I was afraid some investors were going to tear it down and build condos.”
“Trust me, they’re lined up, hoping I fail.”
“But you won’t.”
“How do you know?”
I lock my arms around her slight frame, smiling when she melts into my embrace. “You, Oriana Thorne, don’t fail when you set your mind to something.”
“Does that apply to you, as well, or are you exempt from that equation?” A teasing grin lights up her face as she lightly smacks my chest. “Don’t look so stricken. I’m just playing. So, what’s the plan? Can you refer me someone to start the work?”
I nod, stealing a quick kiss from her pouty lips. “Absolutely, and we’re here now. Let’s break some shit.”
Demo work is fun work. Plus, it gets out a ton of pent-up frustration and rage. Trust me, after Lucille’s phone call, I need to beat the piss out of something.
A few hours later, we’ve demoed the kitchen and bathroom, working up quite an appetite in the process. Have to hand it to Ori. She plays with the big boys—guess she’s working out her frustrations, too.
“Shall I order some pizza for us or would you rather I give you cash, and you get the hell out of here?” Ori asks, wiping the sweat from her brow.
Fuck, but she looks amazing right now—her skin glistening, tiny pieces of drywall in her hair, her cheeks flushed with color.
Pretty sure she’ll disagree with my assessment, but there’s something about a woman who doesn’t need to get dolled up all the time.
Doesn’t hurt that I know exactly what deliciousness lies beneath her clothes, either.
Braden checks the time on his phone. “As amazing as pizza sounds, we’re meeting some people at the bar.”
Ori bends at the waist with a loud groan. “Thank God. I’m so glad you said that.”
We gather our tools and stow them in the truck. Ori meets us outside the carriage house and hands Braden and Zane a couple of hundred-dollar bills apiece.
“Thank you for everything.”
“This is too much,” Zane argues, but Ori waves him off. “Ash, can I please take her home? She’s gorgeous, funny, smart, and generous. They don’t make women like this anymore.”
“Back off, Romeo.” I slam down the lid to my toolbox, shooting a death stare at Zane.
His persistence is beginning to piss me off.
“Last but certainly not least,” Ori says, pressing some cash into my hand. “Thank you. I’ll be right out. Just have to lock up.”
“Wait a second.” I catch up to her and pin her against the exterior door. Then I slide the money into her back pocket, resting my hands against the swell of her ass. “Keep your money. That’s not the payment I want.”
She gazes up at me through her dark lashes. “What would you prefer?”
“Dinner and then you for dessert.”
Ori bites her lip, considering my request. “Do you want to come over tonight? Skip out on football and spend the evening with me? I’m a hell of a cook, so I can whip us up some dinner, we can have some wine, and then maybe a bubble bath. What do you think?”
It sounds fucking perfect, much like her, which is why turning her down sucks.
“That sounds incredible, but I’m working tonight.”
Her eyes widen behind her glasses. “I thought your shop was closed for the holidays.”
“I have a custom piece to finish. Raven called last night and asked if I could squeeze her in. She’s filming in Vegas next month and wants it fully healed before then.”
Ori leans against the door, her face a careful mask of neutrality. “Raven. She’s the Snow White-Jessica Rabbit mashup from the holiday festival, right?”
“Yeah.”
A sense of unease settles over me, which is stupid, really. I’m not doing anything wrong and yet, it feels that way.
Plus, I know Ori doesn’t hold Raven in high regard, and I don’t blame her. Raven messed with her head in an attempt to land a spot in my bed.
Didn’t work out in her favor, but despite my claims that nothing happened between me and the adult film star, I get the sneaking suspicion Ori doesn’t buy it.
Ori shifts her gaze to her ring, spinning it around her finger. “Have fun. I know she enjoys … spending time with you.”
I shrug, desperate to play it off. “It’s just work, you know.”
“Does she know that?” Ori waves her hand, as if dismissing the question. “Ignore me. It’s none of my business.”
She’s right, so why doesn’t that make me feel better?
Because she’s right about all of it—she knows Raven wants to sleep with me and if my reputation is to be believed, she knows I’ll take her up on it.
But will I act on that offer, should Raven make it?
I don’t think so, and I need Ori to know that.
“Enough talk of work. What about tomorrow?” Yes, I’m being forward, but I can’t leave here like this, with this ever-widening emotional space between us.
She cocks her head up at me. “For what?”
“That home-cooked meal you promised.”
Ori releases a slow breath as she fiddles with her keys. “Umm … sure. Six o’clock work for you?”
The uncertainty lining her voice kills me, making me feel even more guilty about my appointment with Raven later tonight.
“Actually, could we do something earlier? How about three-thirty?”
Yes, it’s ridiculously early for dinner, but there’s a method to my madness.
Ori wipes a hand across her brow, growing more agitated by the second. “Why not?” She jerks her chin toward my truck. “You’d better go. The guys want to get some food and beer in them.”
Trouble is, I don’t want to go. I’m happy spending the next week leaning against this door with Ori’s body mere inches from mine.
And I feel like an asshole about the whole Raven situation, even though I’m not doing anything wrong. I am working, even though Ori and I both know Raven wants some playtime afterward.
But Ori and I aren’t exclusive. Hell, we aren’t even dating.
Ori is well aware of my dating habits—with no commitments or hearts involved—so why does this feel so fucking wrong?
I could have lied and claimed I was going to the bar with Braden and Zane, but isn’t that worse?
“Hey,” Zane yells from the truck, “today, dude.”
Ori forces a smile. “Drive safely, and thank you for today. You’re a great guy.”
“Right,” I mutter.
Truth is, I’m a heartless cad who fucks women because I’m incapable of love—or letting anyone love me.
“I’m serious. You’ve helped me so much with this house and not just the demolition, although that was beyond therapeutic. You gave me an honest breakdown of the repairs needed, along with an idea of price, so some contractor can’t take advantage of me.” Ori rests her palm against my chest, rises on tiptoe and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Now get out of here. I’m going to spend a few minutes in the atrium before calling it a night.”
With a tired sigh, I trudge back to the truck and slide behind the steering wheel.
Braden, as always, picks up on the subtle change in my mood. “Are you two okay?”
Huffing out a breath, I tug a hand through my hair. “Yeah … I just … let me get you guys home.”
I don’t want to get into it. Mainly because I don’t know what I’m feeling right now.
Ori let me off the hook. Even wished me a good time with Raven tonight. I don’t owe her anything, so why do I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet?
“Hey.” Zane reaches up from the backseat, giving me a friendly punch in the arm. “You want some women to get under your skin. It’s not always a bad thing.”
That’s as far as he takes it, but he’s said enough. His words hit their intended mark, and he’s right. Ori has gotten not just under my skin, but into every cell of my body.
I’m just not sure what to do what that knowledge.
“Listen up, handsome. I have an empty suite just waiting for some serious action.” Raven shoots me a coy wink as I put the finishing touches on her tattoo. “I also brought along some special lingerie and a few toys for the occasion.”
Raven is a guaranteed good time. A woman with no strings attached and with moves that have captured the adult film industry’s imagination.
A woman I can’t sleep with—not tonight or any night.
About a million men would kill to be me right now—and yet, I’m not thinking about Raven, at least not beyond her ink.
My mind has been on Ori the entire evening, and the hurt in her eyes knowing what I might be doing right now.
A hurt I plan to rectify tomorrow.
“Ash, are you listening?” Raven asks.
“I heard you.”
A small smile quirks her red lips. “But … you’re still hung up on your little librarian, aren’t you?”
I chuckle as I rest my machine in its holder. “Pretty much.”
“And I can’t convince you otherwise?”
I shake my head. That’s a solid no. “I don’t think anyone can.”