Page 96 of Seven Year Itch
“It’s none of your damn business, okay?” Luke snaps, his jaw taut as he dives back into whatever the fuck he does on that thing. “Plus, I have to email these engineers about the ag land we’re buying for the new development. They’ve been waiting on me all week.”
I sigh and turn back to Wyatt. “I have shit to do tonight. I need to work on the shelves I’m making for Dakota’s shop.”
Wyatt cuts me a look. “I know what that’s code for.”
“It’s not code for shit. I have to get them done.” Which is partially true. Wyatt doesn’t need to know the plans I have for later with Dakota. It’s none of his damn business. He gets to cuddle up with his family and take a break. Why can’t I have a moment to myself with Dakota?
“The shelves can wait,” he barks, his eyes turning to slits on me. “We need that lumber tonight to get an early start tomorrow. Justtake the shop truck and stop bitching. If you hurry you might get back up to the mountain before dark.”
“Fuck.” I slam my tools down onto the workbench, irritated as shit that he’s just throwing this on me now. I stomp my way out of the shop, grabbing the keys off the hook before I head out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I grumble again as I swing open the shop door and turn on my heels to slam it shut.
It’s only when I turn back around that I realize what a monstrous fit I’m throwing, because I am now staring into the eyes of a very unimpressed looking Johanna Fletcher.
“Calder Fletcher, what on earth has gotten into you?” I glance down at her hands to see she’s holding a tray of cookies and a six-pack of beer. Mom often shows up after five with treats when she knows we’re all working overtime, but I am not in the mood.
“Mom,” I state woodenly and shuffle my way around her to head to the truck. “I gotta run.”
“Stop right there.”
I grip the driver’s side handle and turn on my heel to face her. “What?”
Her brows lift. “Come again?”
I close my eyes and lick my lips. “I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated with my brothers, and I took my anger out on the door and a hammer I threw in there.”
“Is there any blood?” she asks, her tone grave and overly dramatic.
“No, jeez. I didn’t chuck the hammer at anyone. I just chucked it at the workbench. Everyone is fine. I’m sure if you go in there, you can have a nice chat with your two golden boys.” I turn to open the truck door, but my mom zips over and forces it shut with her hip.
“What’s going on?” She sets the beer down on the ground and opens up her container of cookies.
She hands me one, and I take an agitated bite, mumbling around a mouthful. “I have a lot on my plate right now, and I’m gettingsick of always being the grunt boy around here. Luke is being Luke, aka a little whiney baby who can’t do anything for himself. And Wyatt is busy being a family man, and I’m happy for him, I am, but I just feel like no one gives a fuck about what I need to do with my spare time.”
“What do you need to do, honey?” She tilts her head, her eyes softening as she looks up at me.
And it’s irritating as fuck that she even needs to ask. Like she needs proof that I have a life outside of this job and my family. “Just stuff.”
“Does this have anything to do with Dakota?”
I hit her with a flat look. She’s been riding my ass about Dakota ever since I showered at her place, and I’m sure she knows the truth by now. Luke has a big mouth, and he’s always on the phone to our mother, gossiping like a little hen. Total fucking mama’s boy.
“Don’t get your hopes up.” I grip the back of my neck and avoid eye contact. “Dakota and I are just friends.”
“Sounds like you’ve been spending a lot of time with her,” she offers, and I can feel her eyes burrowing into me, trying to read my mind.
“Not that much time.” I shrug dismissively and stuff the rest of the cookie in my mouth.
“Not what Luke says.”
“Luke needs to get a life,” I mumble around a mouthful of chocolate chip.
“Maybe you’re frustrated because you like her as more than just a friend.” Her brows lift knowingly, and I feel my defenses rising with her words.
The thoughts I was having with Dakota at the hockey rink are not something I’m trying to give life to. I was able to kind of dismiss all that possessive jealousy as intrusive thoughts during sex. Just caveman bullshit and not something to be taken seriously.
But the way I looked for her in the stands as soon as I scored a goal in the third period?
I’m embarrassed.
