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“Go ahead,” I told her, stepping back a little from her mom.
Sage snagged one from the top and moaned after one bite. “Mom, you’ve gotta try one of these.”
“One?” Harlow asked. “Half that plate is mine, kid.”
Sage laughed, then returned to the couch.
Because the plate was uncovered, Harlow plucked half a cookie from the edge and took a delicate bite. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she moaned deep in her throat.
“Holy shit,” she whispered.
“Should I leave you alone with the cookie?” I asked dryly.
She took another bite. “Maybe.” Then she shook her head. “Honestly, I’d say yes because I know your mom will make things like this on a weekly basis. You should’ve led with the baked goods.”
Before she could finish it, I snagged the rest of the cookie out of her hand and popped it in my mouth.
“Hey,” she said. “That was mine.”
I finished the cookie with a moan that echoed hers, then licked at my bottom lip. “Just making sure your presence here isn’t to my detriment.”
Harlow rolled her eyes. “Ass.”
I hooked an arm around her shoulders. “Is that a yes?”
In the pause before she answered, I found myself holding my breath. I wanted her to say yes. No matter how complicated that might be or what it might look like to anyone else, I wanted my best friend around because I missed her.
Her eyes darted up to mine, her cheekbones a little pink and her smile a lot mischievous. “You might regret it, but yeah, I think it’s a yes.”
Chapter 5
Ian
The hum of noise on a jobsite was a very specific kind of comfort. Air compressors, nail guns, the buzz of a saw, and the ebb and flow of conversation from the crew almost felt meditative when I wasn’t in the mood to be working by myself in the shop.
That was, until my idiot brother opened his mouth.
“Talked to Mom last night.” His eyes weren’t on me when he said it, they were focused on the house plans on the makeshift table, and when my grip tightened imperceptibly on the corner of that table where I’d been leaning my weight, he finally got the balls to look into my face.
God, he was smirking. It took everything in me not to punch him because he was going to be obnoxious about this.
“So. I talk to her all the time,” I said, pushing off the table and giving him my back. I pretended to measure something, but when one of the new kids gave me a look like I was crazy, I snapped the measuring tape back and shoved it into my tool belt. “You want a cookie or something?”
Unfortunately, he did not take the bait. Instead, he kept his voice so smooth and even, like he wasn’t trying to poke the fucking bear. “Harlow moved in with you.”
Leaning over, I snagged a stray piece of wood and chucked it out of the main walkway between the kitchen and the family room. “Doesn’t anyone ever pick up after themselves?” I yelled.
Wade, our longtime foreman, walked past, sparing me a flat look. “That was yours.”
I sighed through my nose, eyes pinched shut. Behind me, Cameron chuckled.
“You know,” he said, and fuck, just by his tone, I was going to hate whatever came out of his mouth next, “it’s kinda like having sex. If you can’t talk about it, maybe you shouldn’t be doing it.”
Arms crossed tightly over my chest, I turned. “Is this payback? For the shit I give you about being a complete know-it-all.”
His eyes gleamed. “Nope. Just your average enjoyment of my brother in an uncomfortable emotional position.” He let out a contented sigh. “I could live on this for weeks.”
Under my breath, I muttered all manner of curse words, including one I’d picked up in London that had him lifting his eyebrows.
