Roommates Box Set #4-6

8. Alyssa

8

ALYSSA

“Careful,” Mason snapped.

I wiped the rain out of my eyes. “It’s not like I can see what I’m doing.”

The dim lantern cast long, flickering shadows across the little room as the storm raged outside, its relentless rhythm beating down on the tree limb that protruded through the jagged hole above. Rather than plug the damaged section, the branches seemed to be capturing the water droplets just to send them splashing onto the wooden floor and forming puddles around our feet.

Mason moved a lantern closer. There had been plenty of volunteers who’d been willing to train lights our way, but we’d made them leave. This was a job for us to handle—and probably it would go more smoothly if there were no witnesses to our bickering.

“Hand me that two-by-four,” Mason grunted. “I can use it to prop up this section.”

Of course he’d start by giving me orders. “Prop up what section?” It would be nice if someone could go and pull the branches back, but it would be too dangerous given the recent lightning strike. Besides, Flynn would be the logical choice to do that, and I knew he was trying to do about six things at once. He was definitely the kind of man you wanted around in an emergency. He had medical training and could fix just about anything. But he’d already done a lot tonight, and I was glad that Mason and I could help with this part of it.

That was, if Mason actually let me help.

“Let me take a look up there before you try that.” I nudged the six-foot wooden ladder the guys had brought up from the basement along the wall, moving it closer to the corner where the damage was.

“I can see it from here.”

“I’m not as tall as you,” I said, panting slightly as I positioned the ladder. If I’d tried to carry a heavy suitcase or something, Mason would’ve plucked it out of my grasp in a heartbeat. But now, as I wrestled with the clunky ladder, he just watched me. Because he didn’t approve, of course. Either of my new life or of me using my own brain instead of following his lead.

Or both.

With a quick grin of satisfaction, I pushed the ladder into place. Turning, I nearly slipped on the wet floor and Mason grabbed my arm to steady me. “I’m fine,” I said, shaking off his grasp. “I just want to put on those gloves.”

“The ones that Rafe brought?”

Mason’s tone grated on my ears, but I just nodded as I pulled on the large work gloves. My brother clearly had a problem with the men in my life, but did he have to make fun of Raphael’s nickname, too?

Apparently, he did.

But there were bigger issues at the moment. The rungs of the ladder were already soaked from the rain, and I didn’t want to slip again. But it was like being under a showerhead, plus, the further I got from the lantern, the harder it was to see. “Can I have the board?” I had an idea for where to place the first one.

“Let me do it,” Mason demanded.

“Why? Because you have a graduate degree, and I just have an undergraduate one?” My tone was none-too-kind. My brother tended to underestimate my competency in other areas of my life, so engineering was probably the same.

“No, because I’m stronger. And because you’re getting soaked. Your hair looks ridiculous.”

Angry now, I kicked at him when he neared. I wasn’t aiming to hurt him… not really. Not much. “Yeah, that’s my concern right now—my hair. Good call, bro.”

“Whatever.”

I sighed, realizing I was behaving like a child. Mason was, too, but one of us had to be the bigger person here. “If we use the board to push the branches up, then we can position it across the corner.”

Mason cocked his head to the side, staring up at the damage. “And that’ll hold the branches up, giving us room to put the tarp in.”

“Exactly.”

He nodded and then dragged over some low piece of furniture—maybe a trunk or toy box? When he jumped up on it, we were almost eye level. He set the lantern on the shelf of the ladder and then pushed one side of the two-by-four under the sopping wet branches. I helped, using the board to lift the branches up and out of the room—and getting even more soaked in the process.

Mason cussed under his breath as chilly water hit his face, but it didn’t break his concentration.

Together, we wedged the board firmly against the corner, creating a makeshift support beam. I felt the strain in my arms as we pushed the wood into place, but finally, it held.

I let out a quick breath and then pushed my dripping hair out of my eyes. “Don’t want to look ridiculous,” I muttered. “Though I know three men who think I look beautiful no matter what state my hair is in.”

Mason all but growled as he lifted up another board. “Do you have to throw that in my face?”

“You’re in the same kind of relationship!” I didn’t try to hide the exasperation in my voice. “That makes you the biggest hypocrite.”

“It’s not the same.” He hoisted up the next board above our heads, trying to wedge it next to the first by himself, but I caught one end and helped.

“How?” I demanded as we angled the board into place. It was hard to argue when we were practically standing in each other’s faces, but I wasn’t going to back down.

“You’re my sister.”

That insane response made me roll my eyes, but since my hair was plastered to my face, he likely couldn’t see it. Our shoulders brushed as we strained to fit the next piece into the puzzle of makeshift repairs. Once it seemed steady, I cautiously let go. “So? Isn’t Kylie someone’s sister?”

“No.” Mason was looking at our efforts, not me.

“Well, what if she was? Would you want someone looking down on her because she’s dumb enough to love you and Jude and Parker?”

“It’s not the same.” God, he was stubborn.

“It’s exactly the same. Can you reach the hammer?”

“Why?”

“I want to get this board closer to the first one. Less rain will get through.”

“That’s what the tarp is for,” he said, but he handed me the tool.

“Thanks,” I said as I took it from him. “You’re lucky I only want to use this on the board.” My rhythmic pounding was almost soothing, a counterpoint to the howling wind and the patter of rain above.

Finally, I was satisfied with my work and looked back at my brother. “No one said this kind of thing was conventional, but how come it’s okay for Kylie and not for me?”

He shook his head, dismissing my question. “Let’s just get this done.”

“Great idea.” Only Mason could bring out that kind of sarcastic tone in my voice. “I was just planning on hanging out here getting wet while this beautiful little room gets ruined.”

“Move,” he ordered.

His words should have made me madder, but then I realized he wasn’t trying to get me to go away; he was just trying to wedge his broad body into the corner so that he could reach better. I shifted to the edge of the ladder, giving him space to maneuver. He positioned one more board, this time by himself while I clung to the ladder. Then he pulled a rolled-up tarp out of his jeans pocket.

I grabbed a corner as he unrolled it and then examined the space above us, trying to figure out where to start. “Shouldn’t we nail down the boards to the top of the walls before we try to get the tarp in there?

“Won’t do much good,” Mason said. “The drywall is crumbling.”

“It’s not very dry anymore.” But he had a point.

It took both of us—and all four hands—to try to get the tarp over the boards but under the wet, slippery branches. The work required concentration—and cooperation. I considered it a small victory that Mason was finally working with me, but it didn’t matter if he thought every choice I’d made in the past year was wrong.

His attention was on the task above us when he spoke again. “It’s not the same. Your situation and ours.”

“How can you say that?” Though we were still arguing, it was a little easier when my main focus was the storm damage, not him. He probably felt the same way. We were alike in that way.

“For one thing, none of us have kids,” Mason said. “You moved down there for a job, and now you’ve quit that and you’re taking care of Spencer’s kids.”

I rolled my eyes, or I tried to. But instead, I had to blink away the rain. “You make it sound like I’ve become a housewife. I still have a job—one that I like even more.”

“That’s not why you moved there,” he insisted stubbornly.

“Ah, okay, I get it. So it would’ve been better if I’d stayed in a job that I hated rather than to work with the men I love and doing something that makes a difference. Something that truly helps people.” As I spoke, I lifted the edge of a board and used its weight to pin the edge of the tarp in place.

I wished I could convince him that I was proud of the business Flynn and I had put together, and Spencer and Rafe had been a big part of that. But listening wasn’t his strong suit. At least not listening to me.

Mason repositioned a two-by-four to better support the tarp, his jaw set in concentration. “Fine, do what you want, but you’re a year out of school. This is your time to establish your career, not be a stay-at-home mom.”

A roof tile was tangled in the tree branches above my head, and I nudged it out of the way. Specifically, I nudged it Mason’s way, and it fell on his head.

“Ouch,” he snapped. “Watch it.”

“Sorry,” I said insincerely. “Did it ever occur to you that I love the twins? Charlotte and Lucas are amazing. I’m honored to be in their lives.”

“Yeah, but?—”

“But what? You of all people should know what it’s like to have a missing or absentee parent. I’m not their parent, but I love the fact that they think of me as one. They’re great kids.”

“They’re not your responsibility.”

“They’re my family,” I said firmly. “Of course they are.”

“You shouldn’t have to do that,” Mason grumbled. He’d gotten the tarp in place along his side and was now trying to stretch it out to cover the rest of the hole.

I let him struggle for a moment as I mustered my reply. “Oh, okay, I get it now. I shouldn’t do the job I love. I shouldn’t take care of the kids I love. Would you be happier if I were miserable?”

“Right now—yes.”

In spite of myself, I had to laugh at that. After a moment, Mason gave a half chuckle.

“Do you know how dumb that sounds?” I asked.

“Maybe.” He lifted up the lantern and examined the tarp. “I think that’s all we can do for now.”

We stood back, finally pausing for a moment to catch our breath. I held out my palm and didn’t feel any raindrops. Of course, my skin was so soaked that it was hard to tell. I climbed down the ladder.

“If you told Kylie and the others how you feel about my choices, what would they think?”

He didn’t answer as he hopped down. He knew as well as I did that they’d be on my side.

“This is the life I want,” I said. “I have a family. Men I love. Children I adore. I’ve never been happier. Can’t you say the same?”

“Except for the children part,” he muttered.

“You’re happier now that you’re together with Kylie and your friends, right?”

“Yes.” That answer was firm even though I knew it was killing him to concede the point.

“Well, I’m happy with my guys and the kids. It’s the life I’ve chosen for myself. I know you think I’m too young to know my own mind but trust me—I know what happiness is. What I can’t understand is why my brother doesn’t want that for me.”

Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes so I couldn’t look at him. Instead, I started clearing some of the debris that covered the floor at our feet. If we got the wet things out of here, it might protect the floor from further damage.

Mason took off his shirt and wrung it out, then wiped his hair with it. “I do want you to be happy,” he said quietly.

I straightened up. “Well, that’s good. Because I am. I just wish it didn’t make you so damn miserable.”

“It doesn’t.” He stepped back and ran his shirt over the crib, doing his best to dry the rails. “Or, well, it shouldn’t.”

“Agreed.” I pushed some roofing tiles and other debris off the rocking chair, clearing a space to sit. The wood was cold and damp, but it felt good to finally rest after our efforts. “If I had a really good vacation, you’d be happy for me. Or if I took a really cool class, right?”

“Of course.”

“So, I have good things in my life. Be glad for that. And I know everything is messed up from the storm, but we still have one more day here. Could you please try to get to know my guys at least a little more?”

He sighed. “That’s asking a lot.”

“Not really.” I perched on the edge of the rocking chair. “But hey, let’s start smaller. Why don’t you fly down next month and meet the kids? You’ll love them, I promise. And Nana, too. I guarantee you won’t be able to be pissed at them.”

He shook his head contemplatively, but it didn’t seem to be a refusal. “I’ll think about it.”

Warmth filled me despite my chilled skin. “You’ll come.”

“I said I’d think about it.”

“Nope, you’re coming. I saw it in your eyes.”

He rolled them, but I knew I was right. “Let’s finish up here and get back to the others.”

The wind still howled outside, but the atmosphere inside the nursery had changed, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Sounds like a plan.” Two plans actually—one for the rest of this trip and one for next month.