Page 46 of Gather the Storm

The home store parking lot was almost empty — on a Tuesday only contractors would be here — so I grabbed a spot near the doors and turned off the truck. “Ready to do this?”

I was surprised to find that I was low-key excited. After five years behind bars where the only available physical activity had been lifting weights and doing pushups, I was looking forward to the manual labor of the house, looking forward to having a longer-term project.

To the excuse to be closer to Daisy.

Daisy nodded, and I saw that she was excited too. “I’ve been ready.”

I didn’t know what she meant — not exactly — but there was something in her words, something that went beyond the house and her plans to fix it up.

It felt like a real beginning.

Of what exactly? I had no fucking idea.

We got out of the truck and started for the doors of the home store. We were almost there when a guy about my age exited the building, then did a double take when he spotted us.

“Daisy?”

“Gray!” She laughed. “Oh my gosh! What are you doing here?”

It was an honest question. Anyone who needed a new lightbulb or potting soil would go to the hardware store on Main Street — not the home store outside of town.

And also, who the fuck was this guy?

“Pricing some stuff for the temporary office building at the site.” His words were bland enough — even if I had no fucking clue what he was talking about — but his gaze was anything but. He was looking at Daisy like he’d been on a seventy-two-hour fast and she was a thick slice of prime rib.

“I’m surprised they have you doing that kind of work.” She turned to me. “Wolf, this is Gray Cantwell. We work together. This is my… um, friend, Wolf.”

Now I knew who this asshole was. It was the last name that shook it loose: the article I’d read in prison about the real estate developer who’d bought a big tract of land from Daisy’s father to build a luxury resort.

This fucker must be the guy’s son.

When Daisy said she’d be working in an office two days a week, I hadn’t even thought about the fact that there would be other people working with her. I definitely hadn’t thought about the possibility that she’d be working with some young guy wholooked like he was undressing her with his eyes right in the home store parking lot.

I had the sudden urge to grab Daisy’s hand, put my arm around her, stake my claim like a jealous fucking boyfriend.

Gray Cantwell held out a hand like we were two dweebs meeting to discuss our next merger, but I just nodded because I didn’t like the way he was looking at Daisy.

He withdrew his hand and nodded back. “Nice to meet you.”

I nodded again and held his gaze. I was saying everything Gray needed to hear:I don’t like you. I’m watching you.

“Well, gotta get back to the office,” he said, catching my drift and turning his attention back to Daisy. “See you Thursday?”

“Yep, see you Thursday,” Daisy said.

It wasn’t until he walked away that I checked myself. Why thefuckdid I care if some asshole gawked at Daisy?

Guys probably stared at her 24/7. I didn’t have any claim on her.

So why did I feel hot under the collar? Like I wanted to take that fucking trust-fund baby out behind the home store and tell him to keep his hands off my girl?

“What was that?” Daisy asked as we headed into the big warehouse.

“What?” Playing dumb was preferable to telling Daisy I didn’t like the guy and the main reason I didn’t like him was because he wanted to fuck her, and I knew he wanted to fuck her, because I wanted to fuck her too so I knew exactly what that looked like.

“You could have been nicer,” she said, grabbing one of the big industrial carts.

The cart dwarfed her so I took over and started pushing. “I’m not nice.”

---