Page 80 of Under the Radar

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Later that night, Hannah snuggled into my side, laughing as I groaned and wrapped my arm around her. Or tried to.

“I can’t tonight, Cinnamon. My body is killing me.”

“You were so hot today, working on the roof, sweating, your muscles rippling,” she murmured.

“I have no idea how the rest of the guys feel. They all seemed fine. I am way out of shape, I guess.” I ached everywhere, but the roof was done. Many hands made it go fast. The deck was framed. It had been a productive, and exhausting, day.

She shook her head. “Everyone was sore, I think. Even Dom was off his game. He kissed Mom goodbye and didn’t attempt to drag her with him.”

“He’ll be back in the morning. Did you know they had dinner last week?”

“Mom mentioned it today.”

“I think Dom is pretty serious about her. You Gallagher women are hard to resist.”

She smirked, kissing my chest. She trailed her fingers down my torso, light and teasing. “It’s futile.”

I pressed a kiss to her head. “I’m not trying.”

She hummed and was quiet for a moment. “I’m talking to my boss.”

I knew what she meant. “We don’t know it was him. There’s no proof.”

“Far too coincidental. He knows where we live. I told him to stay away, and he doesn’t want me ratting on him. He thinks I’m too stupid to figure out that a cop and building permit inspector show up? A noise violation? Seriously. None of your neighbors would do that. They all love you.”

“I agree it was OD, but we have no proof. Going to your boss now isn’t a good plan.”

She sat up, looking down at me with a confused look. “OD?”

“Yeah. Officer Dickface. OD for short.”

She blinked, then began to laugh. Her shoulders shook with the force of her merriment. “Oh my God, that’s priceless.”

“Dom made it up.”

She settled against my chest again, her cheek pressed on my skin. I ran my fingers through her thick hair, enjoying the silkiness of the waves. We were quiet for a bit, and I thought she had fallen asleep. She’d worked hard all day as well. But she glanced up, our eyes meeting. Her gaze was soft and warm. I stroked her cheek.

“There’s a music festival next weekend in Townshead. I saw the poster when I was there last week. You wanna go? Some great bands lined up. There’s a fair too.”

“I’d love that.”

“Okay. We’ll head up after I close the garage.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She was quiet again. She traced her fingers over my chest, slowly stroking. Lower and lower she went, until her hand slipped under my waistband. “Someone isn’t that tired,” she whispered.

“Baby, he is always ready for you, but I don’t think I can.”

She moved, straddling me. I groaned at the feel of her heat even through the material that separated us. As usual, she wore no underwear, and her desire was evident. “What if I do all the work?”

“Jesus, you really want me,” I hissed.

“Seeing you today? All manly and wielding a hammer? Using the saw? All sweaty and hot? You were so…virile. I wanted you then, and I want you now. You lie there, and I’ll take care of you for a change.”

“I want it to be good for you,” I protested.