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“Certainly not here,” Axel answered as he wiped another wrench clean.
“I’ve checked off twice as many boxes as either of you.”
“You’ve also had to bandage your thumb, your arm went numb when you smashed your elbow, and now you’re using your thick skull in place of civilized tools. Maybe slow down and I won’t have to follow you around with a bucket to mop your blood off my clean floors.”
I didn’t respond.Couldn’twhen the asshole wasn’t actually wrong. It had been one of those days where I couldn’t seem to make it more than a few minutes before injuring myself in some manner. The aftertaste of shame was a bitter fucking concoction. The anger on my new neighbor’s face was permanently imprinted on my eyelids, and I couldn’t even blame her. My lame-ass mumbled excuses had done nothing to diffuse her temper, and I’d barely slept as a result.
Worse yet, that decadent little body and beautiful pixie’s face was just as vivid. She was a fucking dream brought to life. Feminine little features, a pointed chin, and fair, freckled skin. All topped off with the most appealing just-fucked red curls. I couldn’t erase the image of her lifting her chin to look up at me, or her ability to plaster on a scowl that promised retribution.
“I’m fine,” I bit back. “Just tired.” Tired of my life. Tired of spring cleaning. Tired of kicking myself for not at least giving her my name and groveling like any half-decent asshole would.
My phone vibrated against my thigh for what had to be the twentieth time since I’d climbed into this little cubby. My siblings were nothing if not persistent.
“You see this?” Mav asked, the grin in his voice evident. On a long-suffering sigh, I fell back onto my ass, glutes and lower back aching from being curled over so long. I yanked the filthy, once-white towel off my shoulder to rub the oil from my hands as he rotated his cell towards me, and Axel leaned in to see.
The top picture was Rhyett, helping to move Miss McCarthy into her new house, carrying a dresser between his bulky arms. Growing up in Rhyett’s shadow was a bit like attempting to fill vacant shoes left by the one and onlyClark Kent.Impossible. He was always up to something, which apparently included getting tackled by McCarthy’s enormous Bernese Mountain dog, Mack. Okay, knowing his relentless good deeds had earned him a face full of slobber made me chuckle.
Begrudgingly, I pulled my damn electronic leash from my jean pocket, tapping in the passcode to catch up on the Bible-length string of correspondence. The constant expectation of access to my brain space was like an omnipresent noose around my neck.
Elora
I hope Brex made you shower after that.
Paxton
I see Mack is in good spirits.
Rhyett
She helped soap me down.
Hadlee
Ewwwww, Rhyett. Nobody needs to picture your soapy bits.
Rhyett
Brexley doesn’t seem to mind.
Elora
I’ll book her a therapy session while I’m home.
Leighton
Kaia wants to know if McCarthy still needs her to pick her up on Friday for Salmon Fest.
Hadlee
Aweee, I miss that ball of fluff. He gives the best greetings. Say hi please.
Jameson
To the dog, or McCarthy?
Hadlee
Both. But mostly Mack. Somebody squish his ears for me.
