Page 21 of Screwed

Just like that, the bit of warmth that I saw in his gaze evaporated. His whole body stiffened, the easy and efficient rhythm of his movements snapping shut. He lowered the iPad to his side, his grip tightening on the case. “Jules can’t mind her business, huh?”

“She didn’t go into detail. She never does,” I blurted out, suddenly panicking that I’d really put my foot in it now. “She only told me because I asked. I just couldn’t figure out why a guy like you would still be single. It’s kind of a compliment, you know.”

His jawline set, eyes narrowing. “It doesn’t feel much like a compliment. More like you prying into my personal life.”

Ooph. Aimed and fired straight for the heart.

“Fair enough. Look, I’m sorry. But it’s not like you’re a stranger to me.” I shifted awkwardly, trying to balance the wood I was holding. I felt embarrassed, but at the same time, kind of vindicated. There was clearly something else happening here that went beyond just a regular choice to stay single. And now he knew I was aware of that. “I was just curious about why no one’s snatched you up yet. You’re…”

I cut myself off immediately, realizing I’d been on the precipice of a horrendous confession. But hearing me almost make a fool of myself seemed to soften Nate. His body stayed rigid, but his eyes crinkled at the corners.

He raised the tablet again and redirected his attention to the screen, dismissing the question with one of his own. “Well then, I hope you take this as a compliment, too: why would someone like you need to hide out in the mountains? You have everything going for you back in the city, Ava. You’re clearly running from something, even though I have no idea who you could possibly be running from.”

Well, shit.

I hated to admit it, but Mr. Hardass had me in a checkmate there.

12

Ava

The worst of the fog had finally lifted, breaking into a brilliant, crisp blue sky. The sunlight piercing through the dense canopy of firs meant that the entire valley was steaming like a sauna. And beyond the pier, the lake changed from a dull gray to a crystal mirror.

For the crew, that meant it was the first day they could really start getting to the groundwork outside without worrying about the weather getting in the way. And for me, that meant cracking open a bottle of Oregon Pinot Gris and soaking up the gorgeous sun while watching them work. All three men had decided to forgo shirts today, and I had to do my part. After all, who else was going to sit there and appreciate the view if not for me?

Because what a view.

“Ethan, check the joist hangers on that south corner when you pull those planks,” Nate called out over the construction noise. He stood at the property corner with a self-leveling rotary laser level mounted on a tripod, holding a grade rod to check elevations. He dragged the back of his hand against his sweaty forehead, his already-tanned skin flushed in the early afternoon sun. “I want to make sure the ledger board isn’t rotting away from the foundation.”

My eyes flitted over the rim of my wineglass to where Ethan was on his hands and knees on the wraparound deck, and I silently praised all the gods responsible for his decision to wear jeans today instead of his usual canvas work pants. The denim was stretched punishingly tight over his firm, rounded glutes and powerful thighs. Every time he leaned forward to pry a board, the fabric pulled taut, highlighting the perfect, athletic curve of his ass while sweat glittered on his broad, sun-kissed shoulders and back.

In response to Nate’s check-in, he grunted. “Ledger looks solid, boss. Just old fasteners snapping. But if you keep making me pull these rusted spikes by hand, you’re buying the beer tonight.”

Deacon walked past and snorted as he made a beeline for his compact truck loader. I watched him move, temporarily distracted from his brutal mass by the map of violent scars on his skin, now glaringly obvious in broad daylight. I’d noticed them before when we swam together in the lake. At the time, I’d been too preoccupied with trying not to drown in the wake of his and Ethan’s splashing to think much of it. But I’d made a mental note, a pin of curiosity.

There were jagged, raised white lines across his shoulder blades. A thick, puckered scar sat just above his ribcage on his right side, and from my current perch I could see it every time his arm moved out of the way. It looked suspiciously like a gunshot wound. And the scars on his back didn’t look like the sort contractors usually collected on the job, either. Those were usually thin and precise lines from metal edges and rogue splinters, located on hands and forearms.

The uneven, deep scarring on Deacon’s body was more reminiscent of less benign encounters. Like knife wounds.

A sharp longing suddenly pierced my chest. I wanted to take his hands and see what they looked like up close. If there was more of his history written across his knuckles and if he’d let me read them.

But I knew I’d have better luck unlocking Nate’s mind. Which was less than zero, as things currently stood. Whatever happened to Deacon, I knew for sure that the stories behind those marks on his body were probably what was responsible for the dark look that always lurked behind his eyes, even on the odd occasion he was joking around. My heart clenched.

“Stop whining. While you’re at it, grab the chainsaw and clear those low branches on the eastern line, why don’t you? They’re blocking my canopy distance.” Deacon said to Ethan, now having reached the truck.

“But why don’t you just do it your—” Ethan started.

“Whoops. Already in the truck,” Deacon announced with glee, slamming shut the door behind him after he climbed into the driver’s seat.

Ethan blew an exasperated breath but made his way to the chainsaw, anyway. “Lazy ass.”

I giggled into my glass. They were acting like schoolboys. But there was something so oddly cathartic about hearing their banter with one another. I loved just being able to listen to them and see glimpses of their dynamic and how each of their unique personalities collided. They were very, very different men, but I could see how they fit together and how they’d become best friends and not just coworkers. There was a balance there.

I continued to sip my wine, the burst of tart green apple and white peach washing over my tongue.

It made me miss Jules. With the heaviness of what I’d left behind, I missed our lighter moments and how we fit together just like the guys did. What made it worse was being this close to Nate and still having him freeze me out. His eyes weren’t expressive like hers, even though the color was identical.

Ever since I gave him the runaround about why I’d come out here, it felt like he was keeping me at arm’s length. Even the walk we took together was focused entirely on the practicalities of the lake house. With the exception of the brief lapse in judgement I had, he’d shut me down like a light.