Power Drilled (Roommates, #8)(10)

“Let me guess. He didn’t mention he had brothers.” That was Hunter. He was still holding a sledgehammer, so I knew it was him. And Reid was the one with the shirt on. Jackson, fortunately, had on khaki pants, so that was how I could tell him apart from Hunter.

“He actually did say something about a younger brother.” I mentally applauded myself for managing to complete a sentence in the face of such masculine perfection. For the life of me, I couldn’t recall exactly what Jackson had said about his brother, but I did remember he referred to him as a younger brother. Was there another sibling lurking around here?

I didn’t know the answer to that any more than I knew what I was doing here. Jackson had mentioned needing some temporary help on the phone, and I was in no position to turn down some extra work. But he hadn’t specified what kind of work, and he’d seemed in a rush, so I hadn’t pressed. It made more sense now that I was here. Who’d want to stay on the phone a long time while surrounded by men wielding power tools?

“Let’s go out back and talk,” Reid said. “Can I get you something to drink, Penny?”

“I’m good.” I didn’t know what the backyard was like—though I guessed it wasn’t exactly a serene oasis—but as there was no furniture in here, it didn’t seem like a good place for a conversation. Plus, the dust kept tickling the back of my throat.

Jackson stepped aside as I exited the back of the house onto a slab of concrete that was as cracked as the driveway. Though there was no furniture in the house, there was an ancient metal table and four rusting chairs to my left, and I headed there.

“How’s the car?” Jackson asked as I perched on the edge of a seat. The metal wasn’t smooth, and I was glad I’d put on slacks. My blouse was a silky button-down I used for interviews, so no way was I going to lean against the rusty patches on the back of the chair.

“It’s not looking good,” I admitted. He asked for specifics, and I told him what I knew, but he didn’t seem like a car guy to me. More like a man who was just being polite. After all that Jeff had put me through, I’d take it.

Hunter sat on my other side, and Reid set four water bottles down on the table. Even though I’d told him I was fine, I was rather grateful for the drink. Something told me that around these men—including the sixteen abs that were visible—I’d need something to keep my throat from drying up.

Once we were settled, Reid cleared his throat and spoke in a businesslike manner. “Jackson showed us your work, Penny, and we were impressed.”

For a long moment, I just stared at him. Then horror filled me and I felt faint. They’d seen my sketch? Jackson must’ve taken a picture when he’d held up his phone for light. I wanted to sink under the table. These three men were strangers, they wanted to talk to me about a job, and they’d seen a drawing I made of their brother’s cock.

It was so surreal and mortifying that I half wondered if I was back on my sofa having a very vivid and bizarre nightmare.

Jackson was giving me a strange look. “Don’t worry, they liked what they saw.”

I looked from one handsome face to the next. Why did they all seem eager to talk about a sketch of their naked brother?

“I especially liked the unboxing videos,” Hunter said with a knowing gleam in his eye.

Huh?

I’d never made an unboxing video, but I’d filmed Lila a bunch of times opening up the tech toys—both naughty and nice—that various companies sent me.

And then it hit me. They’d seen the videos I filmed and posted online for Lila—not my sketch.

Thank goodness.

I fumbled for the water bottle in front of me, nearly knocking it over before managing to work the cap off. Relief filled me that they hadn’t seen the sketch.

Jackson had an eyebrow cocked as he watched me gulp down water. “We post videos online, too. Of our renovation projects.” He gestured toward the dilapidated house. “That’s what we do. We buy houses like this, fix them up, and sell them.”

“You’re house flippers?” I’d heard the term from an online show.

”Yep.” Jackson looked pleased that I’d caught up. “We’re actually known online as the Flip Trips.”

Ah. That was clever, since they were triplet house flippers.

Reid, however, had a slightly pained expression on his face. “It’s all part of the brand.” It was clear that he didn’t exactly love that part of his business. “We do what we call a Ten-Day Turnaround. We work our butts off for ten days and transform as much of the house as we can. People follow along online, and it gets eyes on our work.”

“Which helps when we’re ready to sell,” Hunter added. He was leaning back in his chair, seemingly oblivious to the rust patches under the bare skin of his back.

“So… you need someone to take some videos of you while you do your renovations?” I asked.

“We have someone,” Hunter said, then revised his words. “Had someone. Unfortunately, he’s a fucking menace in a bowling alley.”

“What?” I was thoroughly confused by that.

Jackson took over the conversation. “A buddy of ours, Chris, makes all the videos and posts them online. Yesterday, he and some friends went to a bowling alley, primarily so they could drink and flirt with the women they brought. Chris somehow managed to get his fingers stuck in a bowling ball when it was his turn. He not only gave himself a concussion, but he somehow ended up with an arm broken in two places.”