9. Ashley
9
ASHLEY
G inger is nearly pressed against Sawyer in the kitchen. There is evidence of baking in the sink and on the counter, and it’s easy to see why he got distracted, but holy cow, is he smiling at her?
I caught the smallest upturn of his mouth. He never smiles. The fucking bastard.
Jealousy rages through me. Not that I have any claim on Ginger, but I want to have one. I want her. Every single piece.
She turns to me, pursing her mouth playfully. She’s clearly not concerned about being caught flirting. It seems to be the only thing she does when someone is around. Tapping her chin, she regards me with that mischievous glint in her eye.
I swear to God, she could swallow me whole, and I’d enjoy every last second of it.
Sucking in a slow breath, I temper my reaction now, vowing to corner her on my own later.
Ginger lets me be naughty with her. She plays pranks with me. She jumps a foot and squeals every time I surprise her. As crazy as it seems, she’s become my favorite part of the job, my favorite person to see. If only I could have her when we were off the clock.
Sawyer steps around the counter, cleaning up his lunch. He looks like I just saved him from drowning.
I totally get it. Still, the burning in my chest and the way it spreads through my guts has the green monster clawing at me.
She doesn’t flirt the same way with him. It’s quiet. With lots of looks.
But she lights up when she flirts with me and is brazen. I need to stop comparing us. It’s doing me no favors.
“Have fun, boys,” Ginger calls as I escort Sawyer back to the almost-finished home.
He wipes a hand down his face as we walk.
“Spitfire, isn’t she?” I offer.
Sawyer frowns at me, hands clenched beside him as we make our way inside. The sunken living room has a rock facade spread out on the ground so that it can be applied. We’ve got the functional parts in place already.
Kenny looks up as we walk in. “There you are. You got the plans for this thing, or is it all in your head?”
Sawyer taps his temple with a grimace. He does keep a lot of his ideas up there. Expressing himself outside of working with his hands is not really his thing.
Kenny mixes the light mortar, and Sawyer hands me a trowel. I nod at him, leaning against the wall as he puts the stone pieces in a pattern. He picked every damn one of them out. Most of the time, when we put in a fireplace, it’s standard. The stone overlays fit together easily, and we put it up similarly to how we lay down tile or hardwood.
It doesn’t take Sawyer long to plot out his design, though.
I have to give him props. It’s going to look nice with the mixture of light and dark stone. It’s going to be all warm stone with crystals spread through the more neutral colors. Some of the stone has a red tint that matches the colors of the sunken living room.
When we’re given the nod, Kenny and I spread a layer of cement on the drywall and place the bottom stones. We’re slow and precise. And soon, Sawyer is spreading the mortar and placing stones, too. He’s quicker than we are, already knowing what he wants.
I have to give him credit. He’s damn good at what he does. Plus, as a boss, he listens. Helps. Makes my job a hell of a lot easier overall without letting it get boring.
Sawyer always wants to try new things. To create something special for each house, so that it’s not just the surfaces that are different in the few floor plans we build. A house should speak to the person it’s meant for.
After we put up the first third, we all pause to stretch. Kenny groans. “We need another bag.”
Sawyer whips out his company credit card to hand over. “Get two.”
“And one of those energy drinks,” I add, and Kenny nods, heading off to grab the supplies.
When we’re alone, I lean against the bare wall with a palm.
“So,” I say. I clear my throat. “Ginger.”
He straightens, frowning harder.
“The flirting. What do you think about it?”
His hands are on his hips, and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “She never stops.”
I watch as he braces every muscle, clenching his hands and jaw as he rolls his neck.
“No, she doesn’t. But she’s different with us. You can see that, right?” Jackson, too, but he’s not here, so I leave him out of the conversation.
Sawyer nods.
“And it’s obvious we both want her.” I lower my voice, but the admission drenches me in guilt. Mostly.
He meets my gaze with the same wash of emotions in his eyes.
“What do we do about it?” I ask, stepping closer, lowering my voice. “I can only handle so much more before I won’t be able to help myself. If she gives me the green light, I’m going for it. Just so you know.”
“This is fucked,” Sawyer says.
“Because if she gives you permission, you won’t hesitate?” I run a hand through my hair, but not out of agitation. If the three of us get a taste of her, I don’t care. As long as I get mine.
No, that’s not right. I do care. The instinct to howl to the moon and pee on what’s mine is strong. Even if I have no claim on her. I’ve never had this kind of reaction to a woman. But what’s quickly becoming clear to me, is that if she wants Sawyer and Jackson, too, I can live with that.
I’m pretty sure.
So long as she wants me.
Sawyer swallows hard. “Might hesitate.”
I laugh low. “But only just, right?”
“Only just,” Sawyer confirms.
“Are we in a fucking pickle or what?”
He’s rubbing his face again, and I press the heel of my palm against my chest. I really don’t think a taste will be enough.
“Or what,” Sawyer agrees. I can see his primal thoughts churning.
I’ve never fought with a friend over a woman, but I’m willing to now. Ginger will be worth it. Still, I don’t want to go there if I don’t have to. “I won’t stand in your way if you don’t stand in mine.”
My friend, my co-worker, and business partner straightens his back and extends his massive hand. We shake on it, and I’ve got to wonder if Jackson will be so amenable. Those two work together in the house all day.
And he’s charming as fuck. It’s how he got that fine-ass ex-wife of his in the first place. Their still being friends is the kicker. Jackson has game.
Sawyer clears his throat. “What about Bennett?”
Cold slams down my spine, and my eyes close in despair. “ Shit . Bennett.”
He nods. Our friend is going to be a problem, but I don’t think I care enough for it to be a real factor in my trying to date his daughter. Although I’m sure the dates will not be what he objects to.
But fuck, I’ve been dreaming about draping her legs over my back and burying my face in her pussy for two weeks straight.
This isn’t something that’s going away.
“I’m not bringing it up to him. If you do, leave me out of it.” It’s a shitty thing to do, but I can’t give her up.
The front door opens, and we both turn to look. The late afternoon sun highlights a curvy silhouette. Ginger steps in with her patent smile.
She’s got a plate in her hand, like a Susie homemaker. Too bad she didn’t have the frilly apron on. That would have made the fantasy complete.
I try not to undress her with my eyes, knowing that skirt is tight as sin, and that the moment she turns around, I’ll take my fill of looking at her ass. Instead, those aqua eyes keep my attention as she stalks closer.
God, don’t stare at the swing of her hips. Do. Not. Stare.
My gaze drops briefly as she looks at Sawyer.
Wrangling myself, I work to keep my tone light as she nears. “And to what do we owe the pleasure, Mischief Elf?”
That purse of her mouth hides her smile, but I know it’s lingering under there. “You both ran off before you got to try my new experiment.”