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9 - ADDISON
Big Red!”
Two baritone voices reverberated through the lobby the second I walked into TriVolt Electric, making me jump and hit my forehead on the glass door. I hissed in a breath, rubbing the tender spot when hands larger than a bear’s paws grabbed me with surprising tenderness, tugging me through the door and staring at my face like they expected to see a bloody cut.
“Are you okay?”
“We’re sorry, Big Red.”
“Speak for yourself, dickhead. I’m not the one who shouted across the room instead of standing up like a normal person.”
“Shut up and get your grubby paws off her.”
“She might have a concussion.”
“I’ll give you a concussion.”
I braced my hands against a barrel chest that would put Superman to shame and pushed, righting myself as Magnum and Miller argued above my head like I wasn’t there. Both easily two hundred and thirty pounds of solid muscle with brown hair and dark eyes, the Irish Twins were two-thirds of TriVolt Electric, and Jenna’s future brothers-in-law. They were also saving my ass big time with the project on Seabee Island. The sellers were reluctant to give me the small budget they had, so every penny counted.
“I brought muffins,” I said, holding up the white paper bag and shaking it. “It’s the least I could do after insisting on a nine o’clock meeting.”
“Ah, awesome. I missed breakfast. Thank you,” Miller said, taking the bag from my hand and motioning toward me with a chocolate chip muffin to the back.
Magnum offered me his arm with a smile, and we followed the trail of muffin crumbs to a small conference room where Miller was already throwing away the wrapper and wiping his hands on his jeans. He gave a wolfish grin and pulled a chair out for me, then passed the bag to his brother.
“You have an eye for design, Red,” Miller said as he took an iPad from a docking station and tapped a few buttons. I couldn’t even give him grief about that stupid nickname because his comment caught me more off-guard than headbutting the front door.
After leaving the house Sunday, I’d combined the notes and sent everything as one large, disorganized file to them, asking them to meet later in the week to review my options.
“He’s right. Normally we’d go through one or two consultations with clients, but you did the hard work. All we did was put it in a fancy computer program for you.”
“Seriously?” I asked, crossing my arms while they shared a look.
“Yeah,” Magnum said, taking the iPad. He opened up a model of the house and projected it on the screen in front of him. I leaned closer and took in the minor landscaping changes and lighting upgrades. “See?” Miller used a laser pointer to show me what they were proposing, then moved to the budget and time frame. “We can start next week. Maybe earlier, if you give us all the juicy details about your new beau so we can slowly drive Jenna batty with the information.”
Miller rubbed his hands together like an evil genius straight out of a made-for-television movie and batted his eyelashes.
“It’s not like you can blame me for asking, Red. Jenna told us about your new blond Henry Cavill lookalike.”
I looked between them again, and Maverick raised his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t look at me. I was only planning to give you another compliment about the sketches. And in my brother’s defense, we binge-watched The Witcher last night.”
“Oh. Well, I think I have something that will make you both happy,” I said, taking my phone from my yoga pants and opening the email I sent them. “So yeah, some of these ideas are mine.” I stood up and gestured to the sconce lighting and palm-frond fans. “But most of them are Simon’s.”
“And the plot thickens.”
“Are you two doing the deed?”
“Are you going to have his beautiful blond babies?”
“Are we about to watch another guy pathetically fall under the sisterhood of Southern Belle’s spell?”
“You both are incorrigible,” I said, keeping my back to them so I couldn’t tell whose voice belonged to whom. “And it’s Southern Charms.”
“You can’t tease us like this, Red. Your boy-toy is an artist too? Tell us more.” A ball of paper hit my head and I turned around to see Miller clasping his hands underneath his chin.
A warm flutter pulled low in my belly the more I thought of Simon, especially knowing I’d see him at the dance studio for practice later, but I pushed it aside. He didn’t deserve my baggage, no matter how conflicted my damn feelings were.
“We just started seeing each other, if you must know.”
