Page 20 of Nailed

“It's good,” I answered.

He smiled at me. “Perfect. D'ya mind holding the door exactly like this while I tighten the screws?”

I nodded, and as he worked, our hands would occasionally brush each other as we adjusted them. If Rafe was intensity and shockwaves, Callum was pure heat. Warm eyes, warm smile, warm personality, warm hands…

“You know, Miss Lauren, I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries here, but I've been curious this entire time about why you bought this place,” Callum said, his attention split between me and the hinges.

Instead of shrugging and risking throwing off the alignment of the door, I rolled my head.

“Oh, it's the most interesting reason ever.” I paused for dramatic effect. I noticed that in the background, Rafe's hammering faltered in its usually perfect percussion. Above us, even the labored rasping and sliding of the cables Brock was dragging over the rough timber joints stumbled. “I felt like it.”

“That simple?” Callum’s question didn't sound doubtful at all, rather…admiring. It reminded me of Clara.

I hummed. “I had years’ worth of money saved up to do something epic in my life and I thought, hey, why not just go for it?”

Brock had begun climbing down from the hatch and was sitting at the very top of the ladder, perhaps taking a mini break before getting ready to continue the heavy lifting.

Callum opened his mouth to respond again when Rafe laughed dryly. “Oh my, Lauren Wolfhaardt, aren't you the little daredevil? It's totally not like buying a house is the most stable, boring adult thing a person could possibly do. Not at all.”

“The trick to understanding why it was an epic move is to actually understand me. Because if you knew anything about me, you wouldn't find it that funny,” I said.

That actually managed to shut Rafe up. He dropped his head slightly, then turned back to what he was doing. I turned my attention back to the cupboard but not before catching Brock's eye. This time, our gazes locked for a moment.

It felt like I had to try and piece together a puzzle I didn't have a fixed picture to aim for. I couldn't read him and before I could really try, he looked away, then simply climbed down the rest of the way to grab a fresh, heavy roll of wire.

Always on the job, huh?

The crew continued their work list for the day and I helped wherever I could. By the end of it, I'd actually worked up a bit of a sweat but I felt accomplished and content. I'd loved feeling like I was doing something tangible to build this apartment. Plus, it didn't hurt that I'd been spending time with three gorgeous men, either.

Oh, and the learning, of course. I learned a ton of interesting new facts.

Rafe had already left on his bike and Callum was packing in the last of his toolkit when I met Brock at the door. He was still waiting for Callum, and when I approached, his posture straightened instantly.

Always on the clock.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked me.

I hesitated. I'd been meaning to ask him about this for a while now, actually. I just didn't have the time or the courage yet. But after everything that transpired today, it felt as right a time as any.

“You're a local, right?” I asked.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise at the question but he nodded anyway.

“So that means you've probably seen the fliers around about the community meeting happening in a couple days’ time,” I continued.

He pressed his lips together and I took that to mean a yes. He didn't look particularly happy about it, but then again, when did Brock ever express any emotion other than a light dusting of annoyance if you were lucky enough to coax even that out of him?

“Okay. It's just…look, should I be worried? I feel like I have no idea what I'm getting myself into and the protesters seem capable of some crazy shit.”

Brock processed this for a moment. His face was still a wall of nothingness, but I noticed the smallest increase in the tension of his shoulders. It was such a small thing that I wondered if I'd just imagined it.

“I think you're best off ignoring them. Their bark tends to be worse than their bite,” he said finally.

“Doesn't mean it's not good to take precautions. I'm a dog person, I'll go with you.” Callum joined us in the entryway, bag and kit in hand.

“You really don't have to,” I said, but even as the words left my lips I couldn't deny the wave of gratitude that flushed through me at the offer.

He waved it off. “I'd be happy to, seriously. If it'll make you feel better.”