Page 5 of Dance in the Stones

Just stop it.

Go to him.

“No.” Damon’s grip tightened on his mug. “Redford doesn’t need protecting, and he definitely doesn’t need helping. He’s got a whole crew of contractors coming in today.”

But his hound was getting pushier, if that was possible. That’s not good enough. We need to be there.

“This is ridiculous.” Damon took a long drink of coffee, scolding his tongue in the process. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous. We met the man yesterday and shook his hand. That’s it. That’s the entire extent of our relationship. He’s not the first hot guy we’ve ever met, and he likely won’t be the last.”

The hound’s response was a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through Damon’s chest.

“Fine.” Damon set down his mug with a thunk. “I’ll go over there, but only because the castle is interesting and I’ve got nothing better to do today, not because you keep demanding it.”

Whatever helps you sleep at night.

“I didn’t sleep at all last night, and that’s part of the problem. You wouldn’t let me.” Regardless, Damon showered quickly and dressed in warm jeans and a thermal shirt, layering a flannel button-up on top.

The morning air bit his face when he stepped outside, but it felt good. He breathed deep, filling his lungs with the scent of damp earth. And beneath it all, stone and mountain air. Damon’s hound perked up immediately. There, can you smell it?

“I’m ignoring you now,” Damon muttered. But his feet carried him toward the castle anyway, his hound practically dragging him along like an overexcited puppy, which was pathetic. He was being absolutely pathetic. Please don’t let my packmates find out about this.

The caravan door opened just as Damon approached the courtyard. Redford came out, ducking through the doorway and straightening to his full height.

He wore dark jeans and a gray Henley that stretched across his broad chest. And when his gaze landed on Damon, something flickered across his expression. Pleasure, definitely, but maybe more? Hades’ garden, I’m imagining expressions now.

“Morning,” Redford called.

“Morning.” Damon’s voice came out rougher than planned, and he quickly cleared his throat. “I thought I’d come and have another look at the castle, see what kind of a disaster you’re dealing with. That’s if I’m not going to be in the way.”

“No, that’s good. I think it’s pretty bad, to be honest, but that’s just my opinion.”

“Hmm.” Damon gestured toward the castle’s crumbling walls. “I can see that. Most of the roof’s gone, and the walls that are still standing probably shouldn’t be. I’d be shocked if you had a single room here with working utilities.”

“The architect mentioned something about that yesterday.” Redford ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “He said it could take months of work before the place is even marginally habitable.”

“Months sounds optimistic.” Part of the castle’s charm was the way it seemed to be quietly melting into the hillside.

Redford chuckled. “That’s what I was afraid of.” But he didn’t sound particularly discouraged. If anything, he seemed settled, like he’d made his peace with the size of the task he had ahead of him.

Before Damon could stop himself, the words tumbled out. “I could help with the renovations, I mean. I’ve got a bit of experience with restoration work.” That was only partially true. He did help out occasionally with a couple of his packmates’ places when they were doing renovations on their new properties, but it had been a while since he’d picked up a hammer.

But then Damon considered that building work relied a lot on common sense, like anything else, and Redford’s face lighting up the way it did made Damon’s offer to help all the more worth it. “You’d do that?”

“I’ve got the time.” Damon shrugged, aiming for a casual approach and not sure if it was working. “I’ve always been curious about the castle. I’ve lived in its shadow for three years, but I’ve never really explored inside. Somehow it seemed to be the wrong thing to do, even though nobody was there.”

“Well, then I’d be grateful for the help. Fair warning though, I’m no expert. I inherited this place five years ago, but I’ve never visited before. I have no idea what I’m getting into.”

That makes two of us. “Then this should be fun.”

And to Damon’s surprise, it mostly was. They spent the morning assessing the damage together, picking their way through rubble strewn halls and rooms open to the sky. The contractors arrived mid-morning, a crew of five humans this time, who looked horrified by the castle’s condition. The architect showed up shortly afterward with rolled plans and a very long list of “This has to be addressed first,” concerns.

Damon found himself working alongside Redford, clearing debris from what had once been the great hall, quietly pleased his strength was coming in handy. He could shift stones that took two contractors to move, as a rule, although he was careful not to display anything too obviously paranormal. He didn’t want the contractors looking at him sideways and getting weird ideas.

Redford noticed. Damon caught him staring more than once, his dark eyes tracking the way Damon hefted a massive piece of fallen stone, and Damon was fairly sure it was an appreciative look that flickered across the gargoyle’s face.

Damon’s hound preened, of course he did, even though it was Damon’s muscles getting the workout. He likes our strength. That’s good.

“Just stop it,” Damon muttered.