Page 64 of Gather the Storm

“How’s it going?” Wolf called into the room.

He was standing in the hallway, his tan skin sweaty, biceps bulging from the chunks of plaster in his hand.

Damn. He looked way more beautiful than a man holding construction debris should have looked.

“It’s going.” My cheeks heated when I remembered the way his face had been buried in my pussy at the Orpheum the night before, but I tried to play it cool. “How about you?”

Wolf and Jace were demolishing the third-floor kitchen while I worked on the library on the first floor and Otis mapped out the pool area I’d specced in at the back of the house.

“Good,” Wolf said. “Demo is almost done.”

I was desperate to do the main kitchen, but that would leave us without a way to cook, so I planned to renovate the smaller third-floor kitchen first — the one Willa and the Kings had used when they’d stayed at the house. That way, we could use the upstairs kitchen when we tackled the one on the first floor.

It would be inconvenient — the third floor felt light-years away from the rest of the house — but at least we could make coffee and prepare meals.

I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. “Already?”

Wolf’s gaze raked my body, lingering on my bare thighs, exposed thanks to the booty shorts Jace had left in my dresser, and my tits, barely covered in the tiny cami I’d chosen for that day’s work.

Then he flashed me a grin that went straight to my pussy. “Destroying shit is our specialty.”

Fuck me.

“I’ll keep that in mind when it’s time to start rebuilding.” I turned back to the wallpaper because honestly? I didn’t trustmyself around Wolf, not after last night at the Orpheum and not after the way he’d looked at me just now.

I was starting to forget why he was here — why they were all here.

It had beenfunto get up this morning, make coffee and breakfast for the guys before we went to work on the house. They’d appreciated the food, probably because they’d been eating prison food for so long, and Otis had waxed poetic about the blueberry muffins I’d gotten up extra early to make from scratch.

Even Jace had been nice about it, if nice was keeping his snarky comments to himself for once.

I was relieved to hear Wolf’s heavy footsteps recede as he took the debris out to the dumpster that had been delivered that morning. The more space between me and the three enigmatic guys who’d invaded the house — and my fantasies — the better.

I worked for a while longer, sponging the solution of fabric softener and hot water — a concoction I’d found online — onto the walls, then going back over them with a scraper once the solution had seeped into the old paper.

I actually loved the wallpaper, an old William Morris pattern of light green vines trailing over a dark green background, but it was faded and worn. Luckily I’d sourced three original rolls on eBay. It would only cover three of the four walls (I’d have to paint the fourth wall) but I was happy I’d be able to keep an original element in the room.

It was satisfying, carefully scraping off the old paper, revealing the plaster underneath, even if I was just going to cover it back up again. I lost track of time as I worked, the creak and crash of Wolf and Jace demoing upstairs echoing through the house along with the distant sound of music that played from the speaker they’d set up.

Finally, I realized it was hot. No wonder Wolf had been sweaty.

Okay, let’s not think about Wolf being sweaty, Daisy.

Right. Work. Focus on the house.

The heat shouldn’t have been a surprise. It was late June, and a warm breeze blew in through the open windows. Pretty soon it would be July, and I was torn about whether to spring for an AC unit or wait.

Working in the house in the heat of summer without AC would suck, but central air was expensive. I didn’t know if my budget would allow for it. Maybe I’d just get the pool in quick instead.

I sighed and put down my scraper, then realized my water bottle was empty.

I left the library and headed for the kitchen. After I refilled my water bottle, I went to the terrace doors. I’d left them open to let in the breeze and I looked out over the expanse of green where I planned to put a pool, hot tub, and outdoor entertainment area.

I could see the layout, marked off in small pieces of wood, colored string running between them to show where the pool and hot tub would be, but there was no sign of Otis.

I should have gone back to work in the library, but the breeze running through the house felt warm and soft, the wood floors cool under my bare feet. A break would do me good.

Setting my water bottle on the counter, I headed for the front door and stepped onto the porch. It was cool under the shade of the portico created by the second floor, and I scanned the front of the house, looking for Otis.

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