Page 9 of Ten Hammers

“Hey, Jonesy, about the other day–”

Before I can apologize, there is a thunderous boom over our heads.

Oh, shit.

The second floor is done. I’ve done the walk-through of every room, making sure everything is flawless, and no one– absolutely no one–is supposed to step foot in any of the areas I’ve inspected until the reveal. I want to make sure everything stays perfect for the family.

I spin and race up the steps, Jonesy on my heels. He can’t risk missing the potential drama of a loose ceiling fan crashing to the floor or a demonic squirrel in the attic.

Please, oh, please, don’t let it be the one-of-a-kind chandelier in the main suite. Please, oh, please don’t let it be another squirrel–

I stop suddenly on the landing and Jonesy almost smashes the camera into the back of my head. I glance back to see him lose his footing, almost losing his camera. Whoops.

“Sorry!” I exclaim but I immediately turn my attention upward.

There’s another boom, but the noise is still above me.

“It’s coming from the attic,” I mutter, starting towards the end of the hallway, but stop short as the hatch to the attic opens and the ladder drops down.

I start to scream, because what if we’ve had a squatter living in the attic this whole time and they’re now deciding to show themselves?

But, no.

It’s… Mason?

And then I stare, confused and dismayed, as one by one, the Hammers descend from the attic. Almost every one of them bumps their head on the way down.

“What in the fresh hell are you boys doing up there?” I demand when they’re all together in front of me in a long, delicious, maddening line.

“Making sure there are no bats,” Leo answers. Dirty liar.

“What’s that sound I hear?” I cup my hand around my ear. “Oh, I think it’s my BS detector.” I shoot him a look. “It takes all ten of you to check for bats? And what the hell was all that racket? Were you smashing the bats with a sledgehammer?”

Gunnar steps away from the line. He puts his hands on my shoulders, his eyes locking on mine. When he speaks, he uses the sexy and hypnotic voice he always trots out when he wants someone to focus less on the words he’s saying and more on how he’s saying them.

“We were having a secret meeting,” he says.

You are getting very horny, say his eyes. I can’t tear my gaze away from their blue depths and his long, dark-as-sin lashes.

“We needed a place where you wouldn’t find us,” he adds.

You are getting verrrrrrrrry horny. You are–

Wait, what?

I put my hands on my hips. “You were having a secret meeting without me? You were hiding from me?”

Gunnar might as well have punched me. I don’t know whether to be shocked, angry, or deeply hurt.

I go with angry. I glare at him through narrowed eyes.

“We’re supposed to be a team!” I poke him hard, just above his left nipple, really digging my index finger in. In my fantasy about losing my virginity to Gunnar and then to Gavin, we spend an awful lot of time on each others’ nipples. I’m mystified by their nipples – they’re the only set of multiples that I wouldn’t be able to tell apart by looks alone if it wasn’t for Gavin’s array of piercings, which started with the sexy silver barbells in his nipples. And Gunnar, though entirely free of metal, has the best pecs of the bunch.

Trying to veer my attention away from their deceit, Gavin sidesteps my question and says, “This moron,” he gestures at Gunnar with a nod of his head, “sat his dumb ass on some kiddie chair and it broke. When he got up, he knocked over a stack of boxes.”

“We cleaned everything up,” Jack cuts in, ever the peacemaker despite his gruff voice.

Shaking Gunnar’s hands off my shoulders, I side-step away from him.

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