Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
A screw clatters from the tool table, echoing in the empty shipyard. Everybody is out on the boats except for Stephanie, the secretary, who is up somewhere in her office, and North, who’s walking past me and out of the shipyard with his phone to his ear.
“A week? Yeah, that sounds like a good sign, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Mom. You know it happened before, even if not that long,” North mutters into the phone before he closes the door behind him.
Even if I would love to know what that was about, I haven’t looked in his direction.
I have a new game called Avoid the Jones Boys.
Yesterday, I left the house before anyone was up again and stayed at the restaurant, mopping the floors until I was sure they would all be asleep when I got back.
Besides the little bathroom encounter with North two nights ago, I’ve managed not to be seen.
It’s exhausting, and I can already feel it weighing on me.
But tomorrow is Saturday, and I don’t have to work in the shipyard, so I can finally get my stuff back into the van.
It’s going to suck balls, but it’s better than being on pins and needles and hiding all the time.
I have way too many feelings and no idea what to do with them. It’s terrifying. I need to keep my distance from Nash since he just wants one thing from me, and I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to refuse his charm repeatedly.
I need to stay away from Hunter because he makes me feel things that aren’t good for him nor me.
Saylor is still gone, maybe keeping his distance from me because he’s figured out I’m falling for him and all of his brothers.
Or he found the light.
That’s something I can’t consider. He can’t just be gone without so much of as a goodbye.
He just can’t.
And North…
“Are you working or daydreaming?” comes a deep voice from behind me.
North is the same dick as always.
Even though I think I saw more of what’s underneath, and the more I see, the more it intrigues me. Which, again, can’t happen. I can’t let anyone in.
And even if I did, four guys?
Brothers?
Fuck.
“Why can’t I do both?” I mutter, bending down to pick up the screw that just fell.
“Because I only pay you for one of those things,” he tells me, his tone cold.
How come every time it feels like we can talk like normal people, he’s back to being a dick the next instance?
“If you listen closely, you can hear me not caring,” I whisper, grabbing another screw.
Maybe I should just be done with his hot-cold act. It’s unnerving, and I have enough problems as it is.
The boat I’m working on has a malfunctioning crane, which shouldn’t be too difficult to fix. I just have to figure out how the damn thing works in the first place.
“Well, you should care, or I might stop caring about getting your paycheck to you.”
I want to throw something at him.
A tool.
Myself.
“Yes, sir,” I reply when I turn to look at him, and there’s that mix in his eyes again—desire and anger.
What is wrong with him?
And what is wrong with me that I think this is the hottest thing ever?
Before he can answer, there’s a sudden jolt. The boat’s crane we are standing next to starts to groan and shudder, its steel arm swaying dangerously. My heart races as I see it tilting toward North, who has his back to it and is too close to avoid it.
Without thinking, I rush forward, my adrenaline pumping. I push North aside with all my might, and the next thing I know, there’s a searing pain in my shoulder. We both tumble to the ground, landing in a heap.
I wince and grit my teeth as throbbing pain rises in my shoulder, but I can’t help but be relieved that North is safe.
I’m sitting on top of him, straddling his waist while he sits up, our eyes locked for a moment, both of us breathing heavily.
The crane hangs ominously overhead, still malfunctioning.
“Are you okay?” I finally manage to gasp out, my concern for North overpowering my own pain.
But instead of gratitude, anger flashes in his eyes.
“What the hell were you thinking, Blue?” he snaps, his voice laced with frustration.
“You could have been hurt! You shouldn’t have done that!
Are you crazy?” The word echoes inside me, and I lean away from him, but the movement sends a jolt of pain through me, and I wince.
“You are hurt,” he grumbles, his hands coming up to my hips.
I glance down at my shoulder and see that there is a little blood staining my white shirt. “It’s not bad,” I assure him, though my voice is strained.
His fingers clench around me as he scrutinizes my shirt, a protective reflex that sends a jolt through my frazzled nerves. “You’re bleeding,” he says, his voice laced with a concern that sounds almost foreign coming from him.
I can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes me. “As if you care.”
But then he’s on me, his hand at my throat, not just holding but claiming, pulling me toward him.
Our lips collide in an unexpected kiss, leaving me momentarily stunned.
I freeze for a second, but when he applies gentle pressure to my throat and his tongue traces over my bottom lip, I surrender and open up for him, letting him kiss me, finding myself melting into him.
A deep growl rumbles from him as he seems to devour me.
My heart is racing, my hands come up to his hair, gripping his strands.
His hands descend to grasp my thighs, and in one fluid motion, he stands, lifting me off the ground with him, holding me close to his chest as my legs wrap around his waist.
He carries me over to the tool table, where he pauses only for a moment to sweep all the tools onto the floor with a loud clatter. He sets me down on the table, and I untangle my legs from his waist, only for him to push my thighs even farther apart, coming to stand between them.
The table is cold under me, a stark contrast to the heat of his body.
His lips crash against mine once more, and a moan vibrates deep within my chest. He’s hungry, devouring, and I’m lost in the taste of him, in the pressure and the promise.
I clutch at his suit, the fine material bunching under my desperate grip, pulling him closer, sealing the space between us until there’s nothing left but the sound of our mingled breaths and the racing of my pulse begging for more.
Fuck, this feels so good.
I can’t ignore the flutter in my chest, making me realize there’s no turning back now. We’ve crossed a line that we can never uncross, and at this moment, I don’t fucking care.
I don’t want to hold back anymore.
His hands, strong and possessive, roam my body, finding every sensitive spot with precision.
I lose myself in the intoxicating sensations he’s awakening within me.
All the tension, all the longing that had been building between us, now finds its release in this moment.
Just as he’s fiddling with one of the buttons on my overalls, the door to the shipyard opens with a creak, and he breaks the kiss and leans away from me.
We both look over to the entry to see Tim walking in.
North steps back from me, making me let go of the fabric of his shirt, leaving me sitting on the table like an idiot.
Tim’s eyebrows nearly reach his hairline as he teases, “Well, guys, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I’m just the first. The rest of the crew is on their way here. ”
I hop off the table, causing North to take another step back. I look up at him, but he isn’t moving or saying anything. His face is neutral, but I can see a war raging in his eyes.
The same that is raging inside me.
What the fuck did I just do?
I look down around us at all the tools on the floor, thinking back to how, just minutes ago, I felt so much, and now, it’s like the blood in my veins has turned cold. As cold as North’s expression when I look back up at his face.
Come on, do something. Say something.
When North doesn’t move, I look at Tim, seeking an out, and he understands me without words. “Come on, Tarzan,” he beckons. “I’ll walk you over to the restaurant.”
I glance one last time at North, but he’s still frozen in place, so I turn and join Tim, who puts an arm around my shoulder. I wince, and he immediately lets go of me.
“What?” he whispers, leading me out of the shipyard with a hand on my lower back. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
Not physically.
A few minutes later, I’m standing in the women’s bathroom at the restaurant without my top, wearing only my bra. Tally is busy standing behind me, patching me up, and Tim stands just outside the door, talking through the slit that he keeps open to hear us.
“He’s a fucking idiot, Sloan. Tally, you should have seen the coward,” Tim vents, clearly frustrated. “Kissing her senseless only to freeze up when he got caught. He should have told me to fuck off or taken you up to his office, not stand there and look at you like you were a bug under his shoe.”
He did, didn’t he?
“Of course, he’s kissing you instead of making sure you’re fine after you got hit by a fucking crane,” Tally mutters, putting a Band-Aid on my shoulder. “It’s not that bad. I disinfected the small cut. But it’s bruised and will hurt for a few days.”
“Thank you,” I whisper as I get my top back over my head, then I turn and lean against the sink, crossing my arms over my chest.
The door opens fully, and Tim leans against the doorframe, looking at me with pity.
“Maybe you should just stop fooling around with them. It seems like they’re not good for you.
I mean, I know we said we wanted you to get with one of them, but we’re more than fine to have you around as a single lady. ”
“We can be the reason you stay,” Tally states, smiling at me, making my heart ache.
Even you guys will turn on me when you get a glimpse of what is underneath.
“That’s true,” Tim says, pondering. “I mean, Shan’s or our house is so big, there are plenty of rooms. We could make one downstairs for you.”
I shoot a glance over to the corner of the room, where Shannon has been standing since we got in, arms crossed over her chest.
I think she likes me less every time she sees me.
“Babe, you’re a genius.” Tally gets all excited before looking at me. “It will take a few months, but why not?”
“I will not barge myself into your family home,” I tell her, knowing that will never be an option, even if I wasn’t weird. “You need space for all the babies you’re going to pop out.”
That earns me a small smile from Shannon.
“One is more than enough.” Tally glares at me, but when I glance at Tim, he winks.
“But you’re right. I need to get out of there.” I let out a long breath. “I’m going to get back in my van tomorrow.” I deflate, not excited in the least about going back.
“What’s with the heater?” Tim asks, concerned.
“It isn’t as cold anymore, so it should be manageable.” I shrug, though I know it will get more than uncomfortable during the night. My only hope is Van-essa hasn’t got any more issues since I haven’t used her the last few days.
“But you need a new one,” Tally chimes in, tilting her head at me. “It’s only going to get colder from now on.”
“I know, and I already found a used one, but it’s a four-hour drive, and I have to figure out how to get there first. The van still moves, but I don’t want to risk such a long drive without fixing her first.”
“You can borrow our car, just not this weekend, since we’re away,” Tim offers, taking a few steps to Tally, pulling her close, and kissing her temple.
“That would be amazing, thank you. What about the restaurant while you’re gone?” I frown, realizing I hadn’t even thought about that when Tally told me.
“Oh, we’re just going to make a sign that it’s closed over the weekend. It’s not a problem at all. Mom did that all the time.” Tally shrugs. “So, feel free to get the extension cord back to the van when you move your stuff, and we’re not there.”
“I need to buy some more blankets.” I shudder, and Tim laughs. “What if we take you to Calais on Tuesday after work? It’s late shopping, and we wanted to go again for a stroll anyway.”
“We have to do as much as possible before we can’t for a while.” Tally nods.
“Yes, please, getting out of here for a little bit would be good,” I agree, already getting excited.
“Perfect, I’ll need to go change and shower real quick after work, but we will come get you afterward, wherever you are,” Tim reassures me.
Thinking again about getting out of the Jones’ house is a relief, but my heart constricts in my chest. My face must show what I’m feeling because both Tim’s and Tally’s gazes soften.
“Aww, girl, you got it bad.” Tally scrunches up her nose, her eyes sad.
I nod. “I fucked up.”
“All three of them?” She reaches out to squeeze my hand.
No, all four.
“All three of them.”