Page 49 of Nailed

This fucking bastard.

“I have more refined taste, thanks, asshole,” I said, suddenly annoyed just as much as I was turned on. He laughed now, tipping some of the water over his head and then shaking it so that droplets flew from his hair. The cocky grin he gave me made me want to throw the extra bottle at his face. But he was so undeniably sexy, even when he was infuriating. Especially when he was infuriating.

His eyes dipped down to my lips, like he was waiting for my next rebuttal.

“You know, I don’t think anyone wants to get in your pants as much as you do,” I told him, tossing the water bottle from one hand to the other. “You really give a whole new meaning to the phrase, “go fuck yourself.” You should be proud, truly.”

“Really?” he asked, suddenly moving close enough for me to smell the intoxicating mix of sweat and shower gel and light musk. I dragged my eyes up to his face, not so much as flinching despite the sudden impulse to jump his bones right there. He leaned down, his breath featherlight on my ear. “I think you should show me how it’s done, Lauren. Lead by example.”

I lifted my chin up. “It’s the one area you actually have me beat, Merrick.”

His eyes shone with amusement, but before he could say anything else, Brock cut in. “I’m not hearing much work going on over there. You’re not being paid to socialize, Merrick.”

I didn’t even know where he’d come from, but peering around Rafe I could see him glaring with disapproval, a cast iron pipe in hand mid-move. Rafe clicked his tongue but backed up, holding his palms up before taking up the hammer again. “I was taking a break, Lawson. Give a man a chance to breathe.”

“I don’t think Miss Wolfhaardt’s company contributes to your oxygen supply. Back to the wall,” Brock barked.

“Maybe it does,” Rafe mumbled, only loud enough for me to just about hear it. He gave me one last covert look before diving right back to his job. I raised a brow at Brock’s brashness, especially considering that up until this point, he’d never really had an issue with the guys talking to me. But he sounded seriously pissed off.

Later, I was sitting on the counter when Callum approached holding something he was staring at intently. “Lauren, check this out. I found it when I was tearing down one of the walls in the changing room.”

He passed me what looked like a perfectly intact brick that had some type of custom inscription on it—the picture of an old brass tally board. I ran my fingers over the marking, marveling at how well preserved it was.

“Wow, this is stunning. It’s a piece of history unique to this place. Give me a second,” I grabbed my camera and took a few shots while he held the brick for me. As we examined it curiously, his eyes flitted up to mine and snagged on my cheek.

“Here,” he said softly, running a thumb across my cheekbone. He laughed a little. “You got some of the firehouse on you. Makes you part of the crew.”

My pace picked up at the gentle brushing of his fingers on my skin, traitorous memories bringing heat to my cheeks that had nothing to do with the actual temperature of the firehouse. I tried to play it off, leaning into the lightness.

“All I need is a hammer and a dozen or so pounds of extra muscle and I’d be golden,” I said. Callum smiled.

“You’ve got more than a few dozen pounds of muscle on your payroll. Just thought I’d let you know,” Rafe called over, temporarily pausing his work yet again to contribute. “Might as well take advantage of it.”

“Merrick, go and get more caulk from the hardware store down the block,” Brock said, once again materializing out of God knows where. And this time he was empty-handed.

Rafe let the hammer drop. “But we don’t need any—”

“Tough shit. I said go and get more caulk,” Brock said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the front doors. His tone sounded like concrete settling. There would be no argument.

Rafe glowered but seemed to think better of vexing the man who held his parole report in the palm of his hand and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Then Brock turned to Callum. “And you. Tackle the upstairs bathroom instead of loafing around and wasting everyone’s time. I want those pipes stripped before the end of the work day.”

Callum frowned in confusion. “But that’s a two-man job, Brock. Can’t it wait for Rafe to get back?”

“Just do it, Cal. I’m not asking you,” Brock said.

Callum, similarly to Rafe, didn’t look like he wanted to fight about it. At least not now. He just shook his head at the foreman before heading upstairs. When we were left alone, I made sure to catch Brock’s eye, narrowing my own.

“Well. Aren’t you a killjoy today,” I said, my voice deadpan.

“We’re behind on this project thanks to those permits. We don’t have time to be messing around,” he replied. He was still wearing that same mask. The one I saw slip in the side gallery at Clara’s party in the dark, when no one else could see it.

I hopped off the counter. I could tell that this wasn’t a simple concern over time constraints. I’d picked up on enough of the work place and feel for the work to know that they were well ahead of the projected timeline. Nah, whatever had Brock this worked up was something far more petty. Like jealousy.

“No need to get your panties in a twist, Brock. They were just taking breaks. You know, as is stipulated in the labor laws you seem hellbent on breaking,” I said, knowing full well I was pissing him off even more and enjoying every second of it.

His mouth tightened until his lips were barely visible. “You might not have as much of a vested interest in getting this renovation finished on time but I do. I take pride in that.”

“But I’ll miss all of you so much when you’re gone,” I said, batting my eyes dramatically.