Love Restored (Gallagher Brothers #1)(19)

And he really needed to stop thinking about his brother’s dick.

And his own for that matter since working on the jobsite with a hard-on was a recipe for disaster. He pushed thoughts of Blake, her sexy as hell hands, and that ass of hers out of his mind and tried to focus on the wall in front of him. And because he was a Gallagher, and a man, just the idea of pushing those thoughts from his brain got him harder.

He had it bad, and he wasn’t sure why or how he felt about it. This wasn’t the right time for him to be thinking about a woman, and frankly, he’d thought he was too old to try something new. He’d had a marriage, done the family thing.

He didn’t need anyone else.

And the fact that he kept lying to himself about that spoke volumes.

Graham sighed and took a look at his phone to check the time. He could take a few minutes’ break and try to get his head in the game because he had to take down a few walls soon, and he didn’t want to get hurt because he had his head in the clouds and his mind on a woman that intrigued him like no other. He walked out to the patio since they hadn’t started working on the large flat area behind the house yet and took a seat on the crumbling exterior quarter-wall.

What was he going to do with Blake?

Did he want her just in his bed? Or something more? For some reason, she intrigued him, made him want to think about her in every sense that sent warning bells through his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about her at all and especially for not more than a single night of pleasure. He couldn’t risk it. He wasn’t sure what it was about her either.

Yeah, she was sexy as f*ck, but that wasn’t it. Or at least not all of it.

There was something in her eyes that drew him. Something that told him she saw more than she wanted to let on and had a layer or two she didn’t want others to see. She’d lived, that was for sure, and hell, he wanted to know what had happened in her past that had made her so cagey when it came to the house on the hill. Why had she left? Why was she the executor on the estate and not the outright owner? And why in the hell had anyone let the place go to ruin?

Of course, if they hadn’t, Graham would be out of a job, and he wouldn’t have met her in the first place.

He closed his eyes, raising his face to the sun so it could warm him, though he was already a little too hot over thoughts of Blake and the exertion of working on the site. Others toiled around him, hammering, sawing, and slamming into things. This was day two of demo, and with the size of the place, they still had a few more days to go. And while he was the boss, he really shouldn’t be slacking off, thinking about what the hell to do with a woman who had come out of nowhere and entered his life at precisely the wrong time.

“What the hell are you doing just sitting out here?” Owen asked, clearly exasperated. His younger brother had rolled up his sleeves with the rest of them to work, though he took breaks to look at his tablet and do one of the countless other things he worked on as construction manager. “We’re doing demo, and you’re taking a break, enjoying the sun? You usually love demo, and hell, you don’t usually let the guys work while you’re f*cking around. What’s up?”

Graham grunted and flipped his brother off. “Fuck you. I’m not f*cking around.”

Owen raised his brows and stared hard at Graham before looking pointedly around the empty patio area. “I don’t see you with a sledgehammer in your hand, working on the exterior walls and shit. And don’t forget, we don’t have this area on the schedule for a few weeks. You can’t just go off-schedule, Graham.”

Graham pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyance creeping over his skin. “Fuck the schedule, Owen. I mean, seriously, if we do something slightly out of order on demo day, we’re not going to f*ck it all up.”

“Fuck the schedule? Do you even know me? And you above all others know that there is an order to demo day. You’ll cave the place in if you just start knocking things down. What crawled up your ass?”

“Nothing,” he bit out. “And take a look around, Owen. I’m not breaking shit. So stop freaking out. I’m just taking a breather while I think. I’ll get back to it.” He pinched at his shirt, pulling the dust-covered, sweat-slick cotton away from his skin. “I’ve been working my ass off since I got here and ran out of coffee. Just let me be.”

Owen frowned, studying Graham’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” His brother saw too much. They all did.

“Are we just taking breaks when we want to now?” Murphy asked as he walked toward them, blueprints in his hands. Graham held back a groan. Whenever his youngest brother showed up with plans, things were about to go to hell. Nothing good ever came from Murphy and his designs in the middle of demo day.

“I can’t with you two,” Graham bit out. “Just give me a f*cking moment to breathe and then I’ll get back to it. Why the hell are you on my ass?”

Murphy raised his hands, and the top of the blueprints hit him on the top of the head. “Slow your roll, bro. I’m not on your ass. Owen might be since he rides everyone like that, but I just walked out here.”

Owen flipped them each off. “I only ride asses because, without me, no one would get shit done. And f*ck you both.” He turned fully to Graham. “Now, what the f*ck is going on with you? Why are you out here in the middle of the day, thinking”—he did little air quotes—“and not working?” He paused and smiled. “We only ask because we care.”