Page 11 of Love Restored

Owen threw up his hands. “She might, and that’s not the issue. She’s the executor of the estate and works with our brother’s woman. So get off your high horse and get your head out of your ass.”

Graham snorted. “That’s gotta hurt to be on a horse and have a head in your ass.”

Owen closed his eyes, but his lips twitched as a smile threatened. “You’re an idiot.”

“We all are. That’s what makes us family.” Graham sighed. “I’ll try, okay. I don’t know why I act the way I do around her. She needles me, though she barely says a word to me.”

Owen lifted his pierced brow. “Could be you think she’s hot and you’re all school-aged and stupid about it.”

He flipped his brother off. “Can we not talk about this anymore? Why are you here other than to piss me the hell off?”

Owen stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re the one acting all surly by my mere presence and the mention of a certain Ms. Brennen.” A wicked gleam entered Owen’s eyes, and Graham narrowed his. “If you’re so sure you’re not going all crush on her, maybe I’ll see if she wants to get a drink with me once the job is over.”

The thought of Blake and Owen out together, and worse, at his brother’s place afterward, forced a low growl from him.

Owen smiled and took a sip from his drink. “That’s what I thought, big bro. You have it bad for our little piercer. Seems to me you should be nicer to her. You catch more flies with honey, you know.”

He flipped his brother off again and looked down at his paperwork. He didn’t want to think about Blake like that. He didn’t even like her. Didn’t even know her. The first time he’d seen her in the suit with the raised chin, she’d reminded him of his ex. And while he didn’t hate Candice, he hadn’t liked her once the divorce was final. Just as well since she hadn’t liked him one bit either. When life went to hell, some pulled on their significant other more, while others, like him, pushed them away until they didn’t like the person in front of them…nor the one in the mirror.

The fact that Blake had reminded him of his ex had put a bitter taste on his tongue and made him feel like a jerk because she hadn’t done anything to warrant that.

He might have been able to push that away, though, until he’d seen her in what had to be her element. He’d reacted the only way he knew how—like an asshole—and now he had to deal with the consequences. With Blake working at Montgomery Ink, it seemed he couldn’t ignore the fact that she’d be a part of his family’s circle. He wanted to know why she’d let the house become what it was. Wanted to know why she’d hidden her ink and who she was under that suit. And why she’d become a piercer when it was clear her family had money.

There were two Blakes in his eyes, and he wanted to see which one was the real one.

And the fact that he did, told him he needed to stop thinking about her period. She wasn’t for him, not even for a night of sweaty, energy-crazed fun.

“Why are you here, Owen?” he asked again, pushing thoughts of Blake from his head.

“I came to talk about a few things with you project-wise since we have more than the house on the hill going on. We have to punch out on the Henderson place in a couple of days, and I want to take a look at another site and place a bid.”

The place on the hill was what they were calling Blake’s place since calling it the Brennen place had seemed off for some reason. The fact that they’d done that spoke volumes about the neglect that the old place had endured for so long.

Graham’s mind went to work, shifting gears. “We don’t have time for another bid. Like you said, we punch out at the Henderson place when we get back next week, and we still have part of our crew at Jackson’s. Not to mention, we haven’t even used a freaking hammer at the place on the hill yet. We can’t take another bid right now. We’re not the Montgomerys with that kind of manpower.” He was fine with that actually, since they each had their niche. They usually didn’t compete for places since the Gallaghers went for the smaller projects—as well as the ones that were purely historical.

The place on the hill being the exception since they hadn’t been the ones to place the bid in the first place. That had been the lawyers.

Owen raised a hand. “It wouldn’t come up for a year, Graham. It’s on the historical society’s registry, and they are slow as hell at getting things done. So we bid down, get our other projects out of the way, probably work on another in between, then do it.”

Graham sighed. “Fine. I guess you know what you’re doing.”

Owen was already making notes on his tablet, his head down. “Well, yeah, as that’s my job and all. You run the crews, I run everything else.”

“Is that all you came over to talk about?” Graham said after they’d discussed the new bid in detail. “Because you could have waited until Monday for that. Or, hell, used the damn phone.”

Owen shook his head and pulled out two tickets from his messenger bag. “Austin gave me two tickets to the Avs game tonight since he and Sierra can’t go.”

Graham’s brows rose, and he took a ticket from his brother. Austin was Maya’s brother as well as the other owner of Montgomery Ink. Sierra was his wife. While Graham knew the other guy and was close in age, they weren’t best friends or anything. It was more that their outer circles crossed thanks to their siblings.

“Why didn’t he give it to his siblings or one of their forty cousins? They breed like rabbits.”

Owen snorted. “I was in the shop with Jake to pick something up, and Austin handed them over. I guess I was the first person he saw. Anyway, you want to go?”

Watching guys shove each other into boards, get into fights, and pass the puck around in person sounded like a damn better night than what he’d planned, considering he was just going to watch it at home in his underwear.

“I’m in.”

Since Owen drove, they were there early. They already had beers in their hands and were settled in their seats before the teams had even finished with their warm-ups. For Owen, being on time meant being there fifteen minutes early. Being there right on the dot was late. So, instead of making it to the Pepsi Center right as the lights started to go down as Graham liked, he was there, sitting down and watching the Avalanche and Maple Leafs pass the puck around on their respective sides of the ice. He liked watching how fast they moved as they practiced. It was a delicate balance between strength and flexibility since most of these guys were well over six feet and weighed more than he did but in pure muscle.

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