Power Drilled (Roommates, #8)(35)

“Or he means you can take it home and bury it,” Jackson quipped. Then he grimaced. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It is on its last legs. Or, wheels.”

He nodded and looked thoughtful. “Are you going to be all right with the bill?” He seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

“Yes.” Thank goodness for credit cards.

I wasn’t sure he believed me, but he moved to the small dorm-sized refrigerator we were using until the new appliances were installed. He pulled out a white Styrofoam container and peeked into it. Then his nose wrinkled and closed the lid.

“Spoiled?”

“No. Hunter puts a ton of hot sauce on his leftovers because he knows Reid and I won’t eat it. What about you? Do you have taste buds of steel?”

That made me laugh. “Definitely not.”

“Guess only Hunter’s getting breakfast today.”

“If you lend me a car, I’ll go get something after I’m dressed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean if I don’t lend you a car, you’ll stay in your pajamas for the day? Because I’ve got to say, I like those little shorts.”

I blushed but smiled. “Sorry, that’s not how it works.”

He gave a theatrical sigh. “Too bad. But sure, you can go get food, but I’m paying.”

“I can—”

“Nope. My treat.”

“Thanks.” I felt like I was thanking him on behalf of both myself and my poor credit card. It was going to get a real workout before I found a permanent job.



Things were in full swing when I returned with takeout. A crew was working up in the loft, installing drywall, it looked like to me. Hunter was nowhere to be seen, but I suspected the hammering sounds in one of the back rooms was coming from him. And I caught sight of Reid and Jackson in the little laundry room off the kitchen.

I put the food outside, since it was the only table, and arranged the napkins and silverware. Then I went to gather the guys. Hunter just grunted when I told him about the food. He didn’t appear to be a morning person. But when I went to the laundry room to tell the other two, Reid greeted me with a strange question.

“Do you have a heart condition?” he asked.

“One day of bacon and eggs won’t kill us,” I said defensively. “It’s not like those donuts were health food, either.”

He chuckled. “That’s not why I was asking.”

“My heart’s just fine.” I put my hand on top of my left breast, and he raised his eyebrows as he stared at my chest. Then he realized he was staring and looked away.

“Show her, Jackson.”

I squeezed past Reid to stand next to his brother. Jackson bent down and removed the metal door of some kind of access panel. I squatted down and peered inside.

Then I shrieked and jumped back, bumping into Jackson in the process.

He steadied me. “Scary, huh?”

And then some. When I’d bent down, I’d been face to face with a grinning skeleton. “It’s not real, is it?”

“Nope. It’s plastic.”

“Why’d you put it there other than to test my heart health?”

“We didn’t,” Reid said. “It was left there by someone in the past.”

“You two stumbled upon it, too?”

“Yep,” Jackson said. “It woke me up faster than coffee.”

I could only imagine.

Later, while we were eating, the triplets told me tales of other strange things they’d found while renovating houses.

“Don’t forget the vintage Playboy Magazines,” Hunter said. He was more awake and talkative now.

“You squirreled those away before we could even see them,” Jackson complained. “Oh, but there was that cool silver dollar I found. It was over a hundred years old.”

“And remember that two story on Grand Street? With the dummy pipes?” Reid asked.

“The what?” I paused with a fork full of hashbrowns hovering in front of me.

“The plumbing was a mess,” Hunter said. “There was this huge jumble of pipes. At least a third of them weren’t attached to anything.”

“No clue what they were thinking when they installed it,” Jackson added.

“Finding shoddy work is far more common than finding skeletons in closets,” Reid said. “Or in laundry rooms.”

“Next time you find one, don’t call me over, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What’s on the agenda today? I’d like to get a few videos shot and posted before I have to go to the hotel.”

“I’ll take you up to the loft,” Jackson said, and Hunter snickered. “The loft,” Jackson repeated with emphasis. “Not a look-out point so we can make out.”

“That loft is going to be a real selling point,” Reid said, ignoring his brothers. “Make sure you get a lot of good shots of it. Maybe you can save some of the raw footage and over the weekend, make a before and after video.”

It was a good idea. “Have you guys decided what it’s going to be?”

“Another bedroom,” Jackson said.

“An office,” Reid said.

Hunter looked amused. “Am I the deciding vote?”