“Right. Thanks.” What might’ve been a smile appeared but it was gone too fast to be sure.
She thanked us for keeping quiet about the best sex of my life, and I was supposed to smile and pretend like it was nothing.
Fuck.
“No problem.” I propped the shovel against my shoulder. “We should get started.”
Bree backtracked to the bar, and the three of us pulled on coats and gloves before opening the door and stepping into the snow.
Ronan and Declan worked alongside me, the three of us attacking the snow with a rhythm we’d developed over years of helping each other.
Scoop. Toss. Repeat.
My muscles burned. Sweat gathered despite the cold, but the physical work helped quiet the noise in my head.
By the time we’d cleared a path to the street, the sun had risen over the tops of the buildings. A snow plow rumbled past, pushing snow into banks along the curb.
Declan straightened and wiped his forehead. “That should do it.”
“Yeah.” I drove my shovel into the snow bank one more time for good measure.
Ronan took our shovels and walked into the pub. He hadn’t spoken a word the whole time.
Bree stood behind the bar when we entered. She pushed three cups of hot coffee with steam curling up toward us. “You’re lifesavers. Thanks for helping so much. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
I took the coffee and wrapped my frozen hands around it. “Happy to help.”
That was us. Just a bunch of happy, happy fuckers.
I drowned my cynicism with a scalding drink of coffee.
Bree didn’t seem to notice. She moved around the bar to the front door. “Guess we might as well open early. I’m sure people will want some hair of the dog after last night.”
I wanted a whole lot more than that. I’d much rather pull a caveman, grab Bree around the waist, throw her over my shoulder, and carry her back upstairs. I’d fuck her until she begged me to never leave her bed. After seeing how she responded to us last night, I didn’t know how I was supposed to go back to normal sex.
There was no such thing with Bree.
Twenty minutes after Bree unlocked the door, Tom and one of his buddies shuffled in. Tom settled on his usual stool. “Didn’t expect you to be open this early.”
“But you’re here anyway.” Bree chuckled and poured him a pint.
Tom eyed us with bleary eyes. “You three get here at the crack of dawn? Must’ve to get the walk shoveled already.”
Shit.
Small towns ran on gossip the way cars ran on gas, and the three of us standing in Bree’s bar with a fully shoveled front walk meant we’d been here a while. It might take Tom a bit to make a leap about anything beyond that, but the minute he mentioned us being here to one of the gossipy women we’d be sunk. Even good ole, clueless Tom sensed a secret that would stir up the undercurrent of nosy curiosity.
Bree paled.
I snorted into my coffee, making the sound as derisive as possible. “Declan drove us home last night. Roads were shit. He came back this morning to shovel, and we figured we’d help out. You’d better be glad too, or you’d be up shit creek with your hangover. Besides, work goes faster with three guys, and Maeve’d haunt us all if we let Bree do all that work herself.”
Tom laughed and lifted his glass. “Damn right she would.”
Crisis averted. I caught Bree’s eye across the bar. She mouthed “thank you” while pouring herself a cup of coffee. She’d changed into her usual jeans and sweater while we were outside, and the soft material flattered her curves and made my hands itch.
She’d put us in our place with that one time business, but I didn’t know how long I’d make it before I tested the boundary.
Another small group pushed their way through the door and to the nearest booth. “Thank god you’re open.” Joan unwound a scarf from around her neck. Her companions agreed with heartfelt claps.
