“Am I?” I purr, straightening my tank top and picking my phone up off the floor. “Because from where I’m standing, I’ve got you right where I want you.”
He grabs the hammer again, muscles taut, mumbling curses as he swings it into the vanity hard enough to splinter the wood.
I settle back down on the hardwood floors, cross-legged, chin in my hand, grinning like the devil.
Carter continues swinging the hammer, each crack of wood sharper, louder, more frustrated than the last. His muscles flex with every hit, tattoos shifting over sweat-damp skin, and I can’t resist.
“You know,” I say, leaning back against the opposite wall, “watching you destroy things is almost as hot as when you take care of me.”
The hammer pauses mid-swing, his shoulders tightening.
I keep going, taunting him. “Bet if you put that same energy into fucking me, I wouldn’t be able to walk out of here on my own.”
“Catalina.”
I grin. “Swing harder, cowboy. Bathroom first, then me.”
He groans, slamming the hammer down with enough force that dust rains from the ceiling.
My smile widens.
God, I live for this.
I’m just about to throw in another filthy comment when the front door bangs open.
“HELLOOOOO,” Maverick’s voice booms through the house.
Carter mutters a curse, but before he can bark something back, Maverick flies up the stairs and appears in the doorway, grinning. He takes one look at Carter shirtless, dripping sweat with a hammer in his hand, then me lounging cross-legged on the floor, and smirks.
“Oh, hell yeah. Domestic bliss. Newlyweds renovating together. Love to see it.”
Before I can say a word, he plops down next to me, crossing his long legs, mimicking my exact position. “Whatcha supervising, Cat?”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing at the way Carter’s glare could cut steel. “Making sure your brother doesn’t take out a load-bearing wall,” I say sweetly.
Maverick snorts. “Please. This guy knows what he’s doing. He’s been building barns since he was like twelve. Doesn’t mean he’s fun to watch, though.”
I glance at Maverick. His grin is wide, but something is flickering behind his eyes, something tired and faraway. I shake it off as quickly as it comes because Maverick Hayes is never serious, but it sticks in the back of my mind.
“Fun to watch?” I echo, smirking. “Speak for yourself. I think he’s very fun to watch.”
Carter shoots me a look, sharp enough to promise payback. Maverick laughs, leaning back on his hands like he plans on staying awhile.
And just like that, my bathroom project turns into a full-on Hayes brother circus.
Boots& Bourbon is buzzing tonight, country music low on the speakers, the smell of fried food and whiskey filling the air. Usually, I’d be focused on the menu, but Carter’s hand hasn’t left my thigh since we sat down. His thumb keeps stroking higher under my dress, like he’s daring me to lose it in front of his brothers.
“Don’t we look disgustingly in love?” I ask, leaning back to watch Maverick gag.
Maverick groans, dragging a hand down his face. “I swear to God, Cat, one more heart-eyes comment and I’m throwing myself through that window.”
Reed sits at the end of the booth, quiet as ever, sipping his beer like he’s immune to the circus happening in front of him.
Maverick, of course, pivots instantly. “Anywaysssss, let’s talk about Amelia.”
Carter groans beside me, “Jesus Christ, here we go.”
I grin. “What about Amelia?”
