Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MILLER
“Whoa, so you forgot to mention the part about how hot she is,” Luke says as I put the band saw on the workbench behind the barn. “Bet you’ve been working with a whole different kind of wood since you’ve been here.”
“For fuck’s sake, Luke,” I hiss. “Keep your fucking voice down.”
“She’s definitely attractive,” Ethan adds.
Oh, Jesus. Do I really have to contend with the carpentry Casanovas on top of everything else? “Look, if either of you so much as think about it, I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Ah-ha.” Luke sucks on his teeth and nods. “I knew it as soon as I saw you look at her.”
“You know nothing,” I tell him.
He pats me on the shoulder. “I know when my big brother’s gone all mushy for someone. When was the last time you asked us to repair a building that really should be torn down? Oh, I know. Never.”
“That’s true,” Ethan adds.
“Will both of you stop it?”
“Sure, yeah. Sure, fixing up her barn has nothing to do with her level of hotness.” Luke’s voice drips with sarcasm.
“I’ve told you this is about me buying this land. All I’m asking is that you stick to my story. I have no time for a girlfriend, and if I did, choosing someone who’s standing in the way of me getting back at Skinner would be the worst idea I could possibly have.”
“Maybe it’s time to let that go,” Dad says quietly behind me.
I ignore him and continue addressing my brothers. “I just need this barn repaired so she doesn’t make a snap decision to sell to Skinner because he’s threatened her.”
“And presumably to make her like you,” Ethan says. “Even though she doesn’t know you’re you.”
I put my hands on my hips and sigh. Do I even know who I am anymore?
It was definitely the real me who kissed her yesterday, who held her soft, warm breast in my hand.
“His last name is McSweeney, remember,” Dad says. “And no mention of building condos. Just ‘investments.’ Don’t slip up.”
“Exactly,” I agree. “Don’t slip up.”
“Luke, how about you take the props inside to support the beam while we cut out this rotten section?” Dad asks, clearly thinking it best to separate us.
Luke rolls his eyes and walks off.
“Why couldn’t you have gotten local repair guys to fix this thing?” Ethan asks. “To save us from having to back up your lies? It all feels gross.”
“I have no idea who the good contractors are around here,” I explain. “But I do know you guys will do an amazing job.”
“And if she sees you around your family she might think you’re even more of a great guy,” Ethan says. “And that might make her trust you enough to take your advice to accept your own offer for this land?” He shakes his head and picks up a pine plank from the pile.
Ethan’s always been the smartest one of us.
“When you put it like that, it sounds terrible.” I push my hands through my hair.
“Maybe that’s because it is terrible.” He sets the plank on the workbench and takes a measuring tape from his pocket. “She seems very nice.”
“She is very nice. And I’m repairing her barn to stop Wade fucking Skinner from threatening her.”
“Why don’t we just drop it and get on with the job?” Dad says from halfway up a ladder.
“Yes, let’s drop it.” And I turn to head back inside the barn to work on my unnecessarily elaborate replacement panel for the shed.
“That was delicious, Frankie. Thank you so much.” Dad picks up his cleared plate and rises from his chair at the kitchen table to collect the other dishes.
“No, no, Russell.” Frankie takes his plate from him. “You guys have been working hard all day. Please, sit. It’s the least I can do.”
“It was actually good,” Luke says. “Surprising since it has no meat.”
I glare at him.
“Being around the donkeys so closely since I was a kid made me never want to eat an animal.” Frankie gets up and heads to the counter.
“Yeah, I bet being around here can change people,” Luke says. “Turn them into a whole other person.” He winks at me. “Like as if they have a new name and everything.”
Hot blood rushes to my head. He’d better not. He’d better fucking not.
Luke’s made it his life’s mission to give me a hard time since he was about three and figured out it annoyed me when he Hulk-smashed my carefully constructed Lego buildings. So even though he couldn’t actually care less about what I’m doing here, he has to try to push my buttons.
Not going to lie, my buttons are well and truly pushed.
Thankfully, Frankie’s loading the dishwasher with her back to us, so I can give Luke a hard glare.
“How long have you been vegetarian?” I ask Frankie, to change the subject.
“Since I was sixteen.”
“So just five years, then,” Dad says with a smile.
“He’s always been a flatterer.” I get up to gather the remaining plates and cutlery.
“And Mom’s always said you get your charm from him,” Ethan says.
“Yeah, Frankie,” Luke says. “You must have noticed how charming our big brother is.” He waggles his eyebrows at me as he leans back in his chair and folds his arms. “Mom always said his gift of the gab would take him far. Get him whatever he wanted.”
I bare my teeth at him before my eyes drift to Frankie’s ass as she bends over the dishwasher. The ass that I squeezed yesterday and felt so damn good. That I would very much like to squeeze again, but without any fabric between it and my hand.
“He’s been very helpful,” she says, placing the plates on the lower rack. “It’s good to have the moral support as well as the physical help.”
“Physical help, huh.”
“Luke,” Dad says with a tone that suggests he fears I might Frisbee one of these plates across the table and decapitate my brother. “How about you go take the first shower?”
Frankie rises from her dish-stacking. “I’ve put fresh towels in your room,” she says. “The bathroom is right between yours and mine. And I made up the rollout. It’s pretty comfy.”
“Luke’s taking that,” Ethan says.
“Says who?” Luke snips back.
“Me,” Ethan says. “I’m older.”
“By twelve minutes,” Luke says.
“Jesus Christ.” I place a glass on the top shelf of the dishwasher and drop a handful of knives and forks into the cutlery basket. “You guys are twenty-seven, not seven.”
“And you’re twins?” Frankie says. “I hadn’t realized. You don’t look alike at all.”
“Not one bit,” Luke says. “I’m the handsome one.”
“I’ll come with you, Luke.” Dad rises from his seat. “We made good progress this afternoon. Another full day at it tomorrow and the barn should be good and safe. Then we’ll fix a few things I spotted on the stables the day after.”
“That sounds amazing,” Frankie says. “I can’t even tell you how grateful I am.”
Dad stands behind my brothers and taps them both on their shoulders. “Come on, you two.”
Frankie and I finish loading the dishwasher in silence while the other three get themselves together and head up the creaky stairs, bickering about who gets the rollout on the way up.
I’m about to lift the door when Frankie says, “Hang on.”
She reaches in and moves the glass I put in there three inches to the left.
“What difference does that make?” I ask.
“You’re a little bit irritated now, right?” Her smile is impish, coy, and absolutely fucking delightful.
“Nope. My blood pressure is completely normal. It didn’t even remotely spike at the thought that the glass is no longer located correctly between the two mugs and the force of the water might knock it over and it could chip or crack or, horror of horrors, end the right way up and full of that weird cloudy dishwasher water when the cycle’s finished. Not irritated at all. Completely fine.”
She emits a low sexy giggle, and I know with every fiber of my being that I would willingly say those words over and over if it meant I’d get to hear that sound every time.
I leave the glass where it is and raise the door. My arm accidentally brushes against her thigh. Shit. Even just that tiny reminder of what physical contact with her feels like is an electric shock to my system.
Clicking the door shut, I do my very best to look one hundred percent relaxed and throw my palms to the ceiling. “See. I’m totally devil-may-care about the whole glass-placement thing.”
“Sure.” She rests her butt against the counter barely two feet from me.
The easy familiarity between us is intoxicating, and the mental intimacy makes my head swirl.
I didn’t know this was something that really existed.
That you can meet someone and your minds can almost instantly meld, like they’ve been hanging out inside both our heads all this time, just waiting for the other one to come along so they can slot together.
The mere idea of it makes my brain spin.
In such a short time I feel like I know her. Like, really know her.
I definitely relate to her life dilemma of chasing her career while also wanting to do the best by her family.
And I’m absolutely certain that she gets me—dishwasher correctness and all.
“Thank you for going to all this trouble for my family,” I say. “It’s generous of you to invite three perfect strangers into your home.” And it says everything about who she is.
She smiles. “Hah. Everyone in Chicago would think you were talking about a completely different person if you told them I’d done that.”
“They don’t think you’d be warm and welcoming to strangers? Are you someone different when you’re there? A hard-edged corporate businessperson who lays down the law in the boardroom?” I thump the counter with the side of my fist like my imaginary corporate businessperson would.
“I wouldn’t go that far. But they all laughed when I said I was taking a two-month leave of absence to look after my grandpa’s donkey sanctuary. They actually thought I was joking.”
“So they don’t see that side of you? This side of you?”
“Does anyone see all the sides of anyone?”
Her mouth tilts into that one-sided smile as she lifts her eyes and does that thing again where they look into mine and it feels like she’s reading and understanding my every thought and every feeling—even the ones I can’t figure out for myself.