Page 7 of June 7

Jagger slid out of the truck and looked over the framing they'd completed after the last load of lumber was delivered. Bane swept back his sweaty hair. The only thing they needed besides the walls finished was some air conditioning. It was hotter than hell inside the building, even with the five overhead doors open.

"Looks good." Jagger approached Bane. "Rush is two hours away with the semi. Maverick is following him."

They'd put every part and box pertaining to the business inside a trailer and had Rush drive the big rig. It was going to be chaos until everything was done within the week.

"We won't be ready," said Bane.

"If I'm not here, have him park the trailer in the last stall. We'll get to it when we get the wall up. At least we can keep the front clean. We'll worry about the back of the building later."

Over the last several months, they all moved up to Seaglass Cove from Beaverton. An almost two-hour drive. Everyone now had a place to stay except Jagger. Prez planned to throw a mattress in the back of the building until he could build a room inside, off the clubhouse side.

A car pulled up in front of the open overhead door. Bane walked outside and waited until the woman stepped out of her car before pointing toward the pool.

"There's no pool parking here. You'll have to move your rig," he said.

Her eyes bugged, and she jumped into her car and slammed the door. He stayed on the sidewalk, making sure she left. Everyone in Seaglass Cove would need to get used to seeing members of Havlin around. They weren't going anywhere.

The woman reversed out of the spot, and instead of stopping and parking on the other side of the pool building, she turned right and drove away. Bane wiped the sweat off his forehead with his forearm and went back to help the others unload the lumber.

They only had one truck that continually loaded and unloaded the material. It was easy enough to make the mile trip across town to the lumberyard rather than wait for them to deliver the wood.

"What is with people?" Cord pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the pile of two-by-fours. "Can't they fucking see us working inside?"

Bane followed his MC brother's gaze and found someone else parking in front of the overhead door. "Maybe I'll put up some signs in front of the building to keep people from parking along the street."

"Yeah, I don't think the city council will like a sign that reads "Fuck off, or we'll slash your throat." Dio grabbed a stack of lumber and hefted it to his shoulder. "Besides, siccing Bane after them works better. Nobody likes him. They run."

"Unlike you." Cord grabbed the end of the stack before it hit the truck. "You'd talk everyone's ear off and invite them out to dinner later instead of getting them the fuck out of the way."

"Only if they're prettier than you." Dio laughed, walking away.

Bane followed him, dumping his stack on the pile. Looking out front, the woman was getting out of her car as if she planned to leave the vehicle in front of the overhead door.

"Jesus Christ, they're blind." He whistled, gaining her attention. "Hey, park somewhere else."

"It's a free country." She tossed the straps of a bag over her shoulder and then met his gaze. "You!"

He grunted. She was the woman from last weekend. The woman who'd walked into the other side of the duplex and caught him leaving.

"What are you doing hanging around the pool." The woman stabbed her finger in the air toward him. "If you're stalking Daisy, I'll call the police and have you arrested."

The guys behind him hummed as one, interested in the conversation and willing to back him up as she threw out that challenge. He strode forward, planning to show her exactly how she would get back in the car and move, when a woman popped into his line of sight and grabbed the woman's arm.

Shit.

It was the woman from the duplex.

He hadn't seen her since yesterday when she'd moved her Jeep. He'd waited on the sidewalk to see if she would say anything to him. It appeared as if she hadn't remembered him taking her into her bedroom and sleeping with her.

She wore a red swimsuit with flipflops on.

He'd seen women in all kinds of clothes and not clothed at all, and none of them had fascinated him the way that swimsuit grabbed him by the balls. She had a curvy body. Not fat. Not skinny. But cushioned in all the right spots.

It took him back to his eighth-grade year when he and his friends hung out at the Kensington pool. They weren't there to swim. They were there to scope out the teenage lifeguards.

He couldn't remember what any of the girls looked like now, but at one time, their red swimsuits fueled his fantasies whenever he was alone.

Now, he was conscious of knowing exactly what her body felt like pressed up against him, and her legs wrapped around his hips.

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