Love Her or Lose Her (Hot & Hammered #2)(22)

Dominic reached over and shook his hand. “Where from?”

“San Antonio,” Wes returned, giving him a firm shake and a flash of white teeth. “Good to meet you.”

“Same.” Dominic frowned at the empty piece of paper he’d weighted down with a rock. “Don’t hear a lot of those accents on Long Island.”

“Then I take pity on Long Island. This here is poetry coming out of my mouth.”

Travis coughed into his fist. “Wes is a little cocky.”

Dominic raised a brow. “Pot, meet kettle.”

“He’s got family in town, but he’s not sure how long he’ll be in Port Jefferson.” Stephen gave him a nod and knowledge seemed to pass between them. “Let’s make him feel welcome.”

Wes jerked his chin at Dominic’s non-letter. “You working on something?”

“Nope.”

“Looks like you’re working on something,” Travis observed, stroking his chin. “Skipped lunch to do it. Must be kind of important.”

Dominic stared unflinchingly at Travis. “If you already know something, pretty boy, I suggest you spit it out. I’m not in the mood.”

Wes let out a low whistle.

“I know everything. All the business,” Travis said, slapping a hand to the center of his chest. “It’s amazing.”

“You know what might be fun?” Stephen smirked at Travis. “Telling Georgie that you’re not keeping this shit to yourself.”

“You’re just mad because your wife doesn’t have the gossip.”

“My wife has baked goods. I’ve made the correct choice.”

“You two remind me of my aunts. Brenda and Julie,” Wes said, adjusting his hat. “They would bicker on their way into hell over who gets to go first.”

“You’ve just been compared to someone’s aunties,” Dominic drawled. “Can you two shut up now?” He picked up the discarded pen and tapped it on the rear gate. Maybe therapy wasn’t total bullshit, because he had a minor urge to talk. To other people. About information he normally would keep guarded unless under threat of death. “Me and Rosie . . . we’re in therapy,” he muttered. “My homework is to write her a letter.”

Wes crossed himself. “This is why you’ll never get me down the aisle.”

A crunch of gravel turned all of their heads. A silver Mercedes parked amid a lingering swirl of dust, and Bethany stepped out of the driver’s side. Dominic was well used to seeing Stephen’s sister on job sites. She usually showed up in the middle stages of a flip to get an idea of the layout, so she could begin deciding which furniture to use for the stage. He liked her. She was tough as hell and good at her job, but all he wanted to do now was ask about his wife. His throat actually burned with the repressed need. In an attempt to prevent the pressing questions, Dominic looked away from the approaching decorator—and found Wes with his jaw on the floor.

“Who is she?”

“Oh no. No.” Stephen shook his head. “Everyone needs to keep their interest in my sisters to themselves, starting now. Especially if you’re on my payroll. Leave me an ounce of pride.”

Dominic didn’t miss Travis sending Wes a warning slash across the neck. “You don’t want to go there, man.”

“I think I do,” Wes disagreed, tucking a tongue into his cheek. “I definitely want to go there.”

Stephen buried his face in his hands and groaned.

Bethany joined the group, and Wes smiled. “I’m Wes, ma’am. Nice to meet—”

“Roll your tongue back up into your mouth before one of us steps on it, pudding.” Bethany threw an incredulous look around the circle. “Who is this guy?”

“I was telling you when you cut me off.” Wes looked her up and down. “Pudding.”

Dominic, Travis, and Stephen all took a collective step backward.

“Forget I said anything.” Stephen waved a hand at Wes. “I want to see how this plays out.”

Bethany and Wes were still attempting to stare each other down.

“I thought we only hired college kids in the summertime,” Bethany said brightly, smoothing the sleeve of her black coat.

Wes crossed his arms, as if he had all the time in the world. “That must be hard, considering you probably create winter wherever you go.”

She gasped. “Are you calling me an ice princess?”

“If the tiara fits.”

“I’ll take a tiara over your Clint Eastwood hand-me-downs.”

Wes tilted his head to the side. “Remind me who that is? He might be better known among your generation.”

“My—” Bethany cut herself off, closing her eyes and visibly composing herself. “I didn’t come here to play verbal tennis. I’m here to work. Stephen, do you have a spare hard hat?”

Dominic reached for the one in his truck bed, handing it to her. “Avoid the back bedroom. There are some loose floorboards.”

“Chivalry is not dead after all,” she said, popping on the yellow hat and tapping the top to press it down. All while smiling sweetly at Wes. “I wasn’t sure.”

Wes smiled back, but it fell away as soon as Bethany turned toward Dominic.

“Whatcha got there? Some kind of letter?”