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Aiden shifted from one leg to the other. “You know how deals go,” he shrugged. “People get spooked. They get buyer’s remorse and back out last minute. Lots of things can happen.”
I studied him, realizing he wasn’t telling the entire truth. It wasn’t an outright lie, either.
“Elliot said something about property-sharing,” I said. “Or—”
“A land partnership,” Aiden confirmed. “A conglomerate of investors get together and buy several tracts of land in bulk, to get it cheaply.” He squeezed a fist and began cracking his knuckles. “It’s high-power stuff. Very big league.” He let out a low whistle. “These guys havemoney.”
I grabbed the push broom, and began cleaning up our mess. Even broken, what we’d created was beautiful.
“So you plan to build?” I asked.
Aiden nodded. “That’s the goal. I mean, we’ve built all along. Elliot and I got our start working for my father, who was a general contractor. But we’ve spent the last decade or so buying and selling. We’ve made a pile of money doing that, but it’s not half as satisfying as designing, creating, and actuallybuildingsomething.”
He held his hands out during the last part, as if manipulating something invisible in the air. I could totally relate. I felt most at home — and most a peace — when I was creating something myself.
“If we get in with some of these investors, it makes things easy for us,” said Aiden. “And that’s the next step. Ultimately we become the big fish in the pond, and we’re the ones doing the investing. We’re lending out the capital for others to do the work.”
“So letting your money work for you,” I said.
Aiden grinned proudly. “Damn straight.” He stepped closer, looking over his shoulder before reaching out to spread one big hand over my lower abdomen.
“We’re making more time for this little guy,” he said, squeezing gently, “once the seed is planted.”
“Or littlegirl,” I countered with a smirk.
“That too,” Aiden saluted.
Thirty-Eight
JORDYN
The house smelled fuckingfantastic.Like beef and potatoes and yummy spices, with the underlying scent of a warm, wood-burning fire.
“Get yerselves washed up already,” Connor demanded, pointing to the sink. “I’ve been slaving over a hot stove all day, and I’m beyond famished.”
He was still wearing his apron, splashed with a gravy-like liquid. Tied snugly around the thinnest part of his waist, it gave his already-hot body an even more perfect ‘V’ shape.
“Spare me the ‘all day’ bullshit,” Aiden laughed, twisting the hot water spigot. “I’ve had your ‘Irish stew’ before, and it’s nothing more than beef cubes and potatoes with some carrots mixed in. It takes you all of half an hour to throw together, tops.”
Connor shot his friend the most venomous of snarls. “There’s onions too, you lickarse.”
Aiden winked at me as he soaped up and moved over, giving me just enough room to join him. Under his breath he added: “And I’ll bet anything he didn’t peel the carrots first, either.”
Peeled or not, I was way too hungry to care. I was also too happy to be home to participate in their daily ritual of ranking each other into oblivion. Huddled around the table we ate giant, heaping bowls of the surprisingly delicious stew. The potatoes were so hot they nearly burned multiple layers of skin off the roof of my mouth.
“Good, huh?” Connor smirked, elbowing me excitedly in the side.
“Needs salt,” Aiden jumped in before I could answer.
“Yer mother needs salt,” Connor growled, and kept eating. I wasn’t sure what the insult actually meant, but it was funny just the same.
We devoured our meal as a cold rain began falling outside, then dumped the dishes in the sink as a tomorrow problem. I’d been waiting all day for this. To be home alone with the guys, cuddled up on the couch or maybe stretched out in a warm bed. Or if were lucky, both.
Once in the living room, the fire felt damned near orgasmic. Connor had it blazing hot — even hotter than his stew — and after five minutes of standing before it I was warmed up on the outside as well as the inside. Aiden put something on TV. None of us cared to watch it though.
“We missed you,” Connor said, sinking into the couch with a cold beer. He threw his legs up on the coffee table and tilted his bottle back.
“I missed you too,” I answered.
