I’m gonna beat him this ti?—
“Done!” Will calls out from his side of the room.
“Shit!” I say, firing the last two nails and sitting back on my boots. I wipe my brow with my sleeve. “How are you so much better at this than I am? I’m bigger?—”
He holds his thumb and index finger half an inch apart. “Only a little.”
“Stronger—”
“Debatable.”
“The better athlete?—”
“Possibly.” My brother smirks. “Brawn isn’t everything, little brother. I’m smarter?—”
I fold my arms over my chest. “False.”
“The wiser strategist?—”
“Definitely inaccurate.” A huge part of being a SEAL was strategy, and I was damn good at it.
“And better looking?—”
“Slander!”
He ignores me. “It follows that I’d be better at this manly stuff than you.” He takes a look around. “Subfloor for the whole house is done now. Must feel good.”
I follow his gaze.
“Would’ve taken me at least twice as long alone. Thanks, man.”
I’m fortunate to have a brother like Will who likes me enough to help with manual labor. This cabin might be the first thing I’m really proud of. It’s something I truly wanted, not to prove a point to anyone, but because Iwanted it for myself.
Since snatching it up from old Mr. Collins last summer, I’ve devoted every spare moment to fixing it up. Compared to the open concept living space we finished a few weeks ago, this back area with the bedrooms is cake.
And spending this time with my older brother is a nice byproduct. We might always have the kind of relationship that thrives more on companionable silence than gushy feelings, but it’s more than I expected when we were younger and nearly a decade’s difference in age made a relationship with him seem impossible.
Will claps me on the shoulder. “That’s what brothers are for. Even if it does get me on the old man’s bad side,” he adds.
Our dad tolerated it when I rented an apartment after the Navy, but he wasn’t too happy when I bought the place way out here.
Strongs don’t live east of town, he said.
He should have known by then I don’t care about his rules.
“What’s next for tomorrow?” Will asks. “Wanna get a head start on the underlayment, or work on plumbing?”
For no discernible reason, Brie’s angry face in the parking lot this afternoon claws its way to the forefront of my mind for the thousandth time.
She’d clearly been running on no sleep. Judging by the stuff in her car, I’d bet good money she drove all night to come back home.
But why?
“Earth to Sawyer.” By Will’s tone, it’s not the first time he’s said it.
“Yeah?”
“What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”
