I pulled on my shirt, buttoning it as I made my way downstairs to assess the damage. Snow blocked the front door, covering it halfway up before a hint of sunlight peeked through.
Bree would’ve had one hell of a time digging herself out alone. Good thing we’d stayed.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Declan walked down first, his hair standing up in every direction. Ronan followed, looking more alert than I felt even though I’d been getting up at this ungodly hour for years.
Declan took one look at the door and groaned. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.” I jerked my thumb at the wall of snow. “We’ve got our work cut out for us.”
“Shovel still in the storage closet?” Ronan headed that way before Declan had a chance to answer.
He shrugged and ran both hands through his hair. “Probably. Maeve kept everything back there.”
Ronan came back with two shovels and a bag of salt with a torn edge that left a thin white trail across the floor. “This’ll take a while.” He handed me one shovel and Declan the other, set the bag of salt beside the door, and pulled on a pair of gloves.
“Good thing we have time.” I hefted the shovel and eyed the snow, searching for the best place to start.
Soft footsteps padded down the staircase. Bree’s feet appeared, then a soft blue robe wrapped tight around her torso. I already missed her curves. She pulled her hair back into a messy bun, somehow managing to look beautiful and shy and perfect at the same time.
She met my eyes, and my stomach dipped. This was not the same woman we’d taken to bed last night.
“Morning.” I tried my usual smile, but she kept her chin tucked.
Declan set his shovel against the wall. “We’re going to dig out the front.”
“You don’t have to do that.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I can handle it.”
“With what shovel?” I gestured to the two we’d found. “We’ve got it covered.”
She nodded, bit her lip, and continued to avoid looking at us. Finally, she took a breath. “About last night.”
Here it came. I’d anticipated something but anticipating and having it happen hit different after a night like last night.
“I let things get carried away.” She stared over my shoulder, fingers clenching and releasing the robe. “I don’t regret any of it, but it was just a one-time thing.”
My breath rushed out, leaving me woozy. I’d had plenty of one night stands. Too many to remember them all. Usually I was the one doing the walking away after making it clear things were over and one night was plenty.
Being on the receiving end felt like shit. I didn’t like it. Not one fucking bit.
“You don’t need to apologize.” Declan wrapped both hands around the shovel handle, twisting like strangling the wood would help his mood.
Bree looked at me, then the others. “I do. We were all drunk and having fun. Maybe things got a little carried away. I hope we can keep working together without it being awkward.”
One time thing.
I kind of hated those words. No. No kind of. When Bree said them, I hated them with every fiber of my being.
I should’ve expected it. I’d known better than to think last night meant more than what we all agreed to.
But I still didn’t like the way Bree avoided looking at us. Guess we’d all be doing a walk of shame. Good thing I’d changed out of my green outfit late last night. I’d definitely be memorable if I walked out of here in that getup.
Declan tapped the shovel’s flat edge against the top of his boot. “It won’t be awkward.”
“Good.” Her shoulders relaxed and she stopped twisting the belt into a knot. “That’s good. I need to ask you to keep what happened between us a secret. Please. If anyone in town found out–”
“They won’t.” Ronan cut in with a savageness to his voice I hadn’t heard in years.
Declan nodded. “The old stiffs would make your life hell. We wouldn’t do that to you.”
