Page 72 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

"What you're doing is called 'pacing,'" Macca says, unhelpfully.

"I'm thinking while I pace. Multitasking." I check my phone. 5:46 p.m. People should start arriving at six. "Everything's set up right? Lighting on the back porch? Fire pit's got enough gas? You double checked the caulking in the upstairs bathroom? It's not going to come apart like it did on the Golden Grove site."

Jack shakes his head, picking at something on his pants. I've never seen him wear a fabric that isn't flannel, khaki, or denim. I wonder if his wife made him wear it. "Mate. That was literally one time five years ago. And you know it was a sabotage job. Everything is set up. You did the final walkthrough with me yourself yesterday. We've been ready for weeks. We've got this."

Macca calls out from his perch. "You've overseen the build of over a hundred houses, boss. This one's no different."

It is, though. A mistake here isn't an easy fix, not something a heartfelt apology and a bottle of wine can fix. This is the difference between operating month to month and moving into a whole new business bracket. About knowing I've got my guys set up for the foreseeable future. It's about having the confirmation that I've put in the hard work, built a good team, educated myself and my company. About doing something some people never thought I could.

In the front yard of the house across the street, a tall guy yells out to the guy on his balcony, who gives him the middle finger in response, and then he laughs as he crosses over to my property. Hunter Monroe. One of my best friends in the world besides the three I live with. He's dressed like me, and much like me, his face says he'd rather be wearing literally anything else. A suit, pressed and expensive-looking, probably borrowed from his brother Elliot, hair behaving for once, courtesy of a tub of gel. No question who helped him with that.

"Hey, Monroe, you scrub up alright," I say.

"Not as good as you." He looks me over with a cock of his eyebrow. "I dunno, looks like you even took a shower."

"Look, I'd already taken one earlier this month, but I thought, hey, special occasion, might as well break out the soap as well."

He comes up beside me and slaps me on the back. "How you feeling?"

"Like I might throw up on this concrete we already had to lay twice,” I admit. No use hiding anything from him. Whatever I’m feeling he is too and vice versa.

"Good sign. Means you care. At least that's what everyone's telling me." He gives me a look that tells me maybe we're caring a little too much. "Don't tell anyone, I was sick twice this morning. Had to pull over on the way here."

"You? Nervous?"

He shrugs. "Terri-fucking-fied. We've both been working on this for months. If it goes well tonight, it's going to change everything for the both of us."

"Well, I mean, I'm this year's Adelaide Young Upstart to Watch, so..." I say, teasing him.

He rolls his eyes. "And who was last year's?"

"Eh, there was less competition last year, did you even have a single competitor?" I say with a pretend yawn.

"You little haemorrhoid," he says with a laugh.

We wander over to the front step that Jack's vacated. I know he's doing another nervous walkthrough, no matter what he said.

"Hey, I'm proud of you," Hunter says, out of nowhere, in a rare moment of seriousness. "Whatever happens tonight. You've worked harder than anyone I know to get here."

I think about brushing his compliment aside, but I know it wasn't easy for him to say. "Same, mate. Same," I say, and mean it with my entire soul. We wouldn't have gone into business with him if we hadn't known he'd have carried his weight, and then some. He takes a deep breath, letting himself feel my words, and then his face breaks into a warm, wide smile.

I know it's not for me. I don't even need to look to know who he's actually looking at. Aria, the love of his life, has parked her car around the boulevard and is coming our way. She's looking beautiful in a pair of white linen pants and a silk black shirt with gold buttons, her long thick black hair falling dead straight down her back. She sees us and waves with a big smile. I follow Hunter down the driveway to meet her, his steps hurrying as she gets within ten metres, arms already reaching for her. She laughs when he grabs her around the waist and pulls her in, hugging her tight. He whispers something in her ear and she slaps him playfully, her cheeks blazing pink. My heart warms seeing them together. I couldn't give a damn that their relationship is unconventional, it works for them, and that's all I care about. She pushes him away and walks over to me, her arms out ready for a hug.

"Hey, Marcus, how are you holding up?" she says with a bright smile.

"I'm doing okay, Aria. Better than him." I keep my arms around her in the friendly hug but hook a finger in Hunter's direction.

He grumbles and pulls her back to him, giving me a dark glare. For someone sharing his girl with two of his brothers, he sure gets growly when any other man is within breathing distance of her.

"He's lying, girl," Macca shouts. He's joined us all downstairs, staring at the letter box, grumbling about it being crooked, as if he wasn't the one that installed it in the first place.

"You're fired, old man!" I shout at him.

"Yeah? And what would you do without me? Do you even know where the keys to your truck are?"

Damn. Can’t even trust your own employees these days.

"Well, I, for one, believe in the both of you," Aria says kindly. "Anyway, I'll leave you two alone," she says, handing a small envelope to Hunter. "Just wanted to give you this before things get too crazy."