Hammered (Getting Dirty Series Book 4)

by Tory Baker

  “It’s going to suck if I need to split my time between here and there. I know the guys are capable, but that doesn’t mean you can always work remotely either. And, babe, I gotta tell you, I am not looking forward to that.” He kisses the top of my head.

  “I hate it, but I know you have to do what you have to do. Just make sure you at least text me when you make it down there and when you leave, so I know you’re safe. I’ll let you go so you can get the guys sorted. I suppose I’ll look at your calendar and see what days you can work in besides the weekends, just to get it started.”

  “Look at me, Peyton,” Chance demands. I must have really burrowed into him while talking. His thumb and pointer finger bring my chin up as he dips his head to look into my eyes.

  “Yes,” I gulp. Worry is probably written all over my face.

  “You’ll be down there too, so make sure you find days for both of us. I know sometimes you might not be able to finagle being down there. And I don’t mind those rare occasions. But, baby, I want you there with me. Always. Know that. Let it sink in, because this could be rough for us both.” His lips meet mine, soft and sweet. Those lips of his, they pull me in, making me yearn for more.

  “Chance,” I moan against his lips, wanting so bad to do so much more than kiss him.

  “I know, baby. If we didn’t have to get the guys started, your ass would be planted on your desk, and my mouth would be on those beautiful tits of yours. This sinful-as-hell skirt would be rucked up, baring your cunt, and I’d be sliding inside of you, with nothing between us.” His words are an aphrodisiac, deep in baritone, filled with sinful promises.

  “You can’t talk like that. I won’t be able to sit at my desk and work now. Especially with those thoughts going through my mind.” I step back because if I don’t, I’m liable to climb him like a tree.

  “Oh, don’t you worry. These men gotta go home sometime today. Then we’ll be making that happen.” Chance winks at me, and then we both head to our own desk, him to pick up plans, me to work on when he’ll be going back and forth to South Carolina.

  “That man, he’s going to make me come with his words alone one day,” I mumble under my breath.

  “I heard that. One day, we’ll have to try it,” Chance hollers from his office, causing me to laugh. He must have supersonic hearing because I barely breathed those words out. I get back to work, knowing full well Chance will be asking for the schedule as soon as he gets the crews to where they need to be.

  Although, I know tonight will be one for the record books, especially after the amazing week we spent at the beach.

  Eleven

  Chance

  Six Weeks Later

  Goddamn it, I can’t believe I’ve been stuck down here for a full week. The worst part is, Peyton couldn’t come down this time. The last few times I was here, she traveled with me. While I worked at Fox’s place, she set up a makeshift office in our hotel room, and once I was done for the day, Peyton would shut everything down. Then we’d go sightsee, hang out at the beach, even with the cooler weather, or check out the local food places.

  This week, though, it’s been an absolute shit show, not being able to sleep with her wrapped in my arms, sinking inside her every night, having Peyton’s flavor on my tongue. It fucking sucks, along with this damn project of Fox’s. Who knew all the red tape we’d have to wade through. Sure, my brother would help out when he could, but with him kicking off his own small surf shop, not knowing what the fuck to look for or the permits that needed to be pulled, it left a lot up to me to deal with. It’s something that wouldn’t bother me as much if I had Peyton with me.

  “What do you mean, the permit was pulled?” I say into the phone. This county is a fucking joke. Yesterday, the electrical wasn’t up to code, when I know for a fact it is. Now, they’re trying to say the construction permit was being pulled until the inspector checked out the electrical again.

  “Sorry, Mr. Adams, that’s all the notes I have,” the lady on the other end of the phone says.

  “Thanks. Is there an email I can at least have my secretary send to the inspector to figure out what’s going on?” I barter, knowing full well Peyton can get to the bottom of this.

  “I’m sorry, we’re not allowed to give that information.” Fuck, I guess I won’t be getting anywhere with this today.

  “Alright, thanks.” I hang up without saying goodbye, as if she’ll care. I’m sure she deals with all kinds of assholes throughout the day.

  Now that the electrical is shut down, I may as well work on the siding of Fox’s house, not that the crew we hired needs help, but with nothing else to do and my hands tied, I may as well.

  “Hey, Paul, go ahead and stop on the electrical for today. We have to wait for the inspector to come out, and who the fuck knows how long that will take.” I shake my head, grab my tool belt, and help work on the Hardie board that’s been sitting on pallets.

  “Well, fuck, that’s gonna put you even further behind on getting back to Virginia, huh?” Paul asks.

  “You have no idea. Shit has to get done though. After this trip, I need to look at staying home for at least a month. This traveling is killing me, not to mention being away from Peyton,” I grouse.

  “I’m not sure how you’re doing it. My old lady would skin me alive if I travelled as much as you have. Though you’ve had her with you the past few times, I’m sure it’s not the same.” He helps me uncover the boards, and we get to work, us walking back to the house with a few boards at a time.

  “She’s a trooper, that’s for sure,” I respond. We start getting into a rhythm, stacking the boards so the seams aren’t on top of each other. If you don’t, then it’s just asking for water to seep through and rot the wood we’re attaching it to.

  “Just the same. Let’s hope Fox doesn’t have that many changes and this part will be the last hurdle,” Paul tells me. If I had it my way, I’d expand Adams Construction down here in South Carolina. I’ve already had a few offers come my way with just working on my brother’s place. That scoundrel is probably slipping my name to every big wig he comes in contact with at The Wet Spot, Fox’s surf shop. I’m sure there’s a back story on how that name came along.

  “Maybe, though I may have a permanent position for you, if you’re interested,” I offer as we move along seamlessly. If it weren’t for this permit non-sense, I’d have left it in Paul’s capable hands, but because it’s in my company name and he’s not my official employee, I have to be here.

  “Oh, really, I might be interested in that. Your lady know what you’re thinking about doing?” Paul is a family man through and through, older plus wiser for his years, so I’m sure he knows more than I do when it comes to relationships.

  “Not yet, but it’s on my agenda. Hold on a second, my damn phone won’t quit vibrating.” We have moved on to the scaffolding. We’re wearing our harnesses, but that doesn’t mean I want Paul to move a certain way while I’m on the phone and the worst could happen.

  He nods his head, and I pull my phone out. Seeing that it’s Peyton, I try to grab for it as it slides out of my hand, but it only makes it worse. I watch as it plummets ten feet down onto cement.

  “Well, fuck. My day just went from bad to worse.” I fist my hands behind my neck and look to the sky, trying to breathe through the bullshit that’s knocking around in my head.

  “Why don’t we call it a day. You head to the phone store, and tomorrow might just be a brighter day,” Paul offers.

  “Nah, let’s at least finish this side of the house, then I’ll go do that. A couple of hours without a phone isn’t going to kill me. Peyton has Fox’s number if it’s urgent.” We get back to work. In the back of my mind I’m ready to get out of here, find the nearest place to replace the damn phone, and have a beer, or maybe three. What I wouldn’t give to have Peyton here with me. I make it my mission to get this shit done, even if it means I need to hunt this fucking inspector down myself.

  Twelve

  Peyton

>   “That’s so weird,” I say to the empty construction trailer. Chance has been gone all week, and judging from the report that just came in, it seems like he won’t be coming home anytime soon. I’m pathetic, I know, but I really miss seeing Chance on a daily basis. Phone calls, texts, FaceTime calls, it’s not the same. It really sucks, and I’m ready to shut down the shop and hop on the first plane available. I need his arms wrapped around me.

  I get back to work, trying to put my mind at ease, somehow manage to not worry about the fact that it’s been six hours since I called, and Chance still hasn’t responded. It’s not that what I’m sitting on is pertinent information, but it does bring up some past hurt that I have no reason to bubble up inside me.

  “Get it together, finish your work, and go back home.” That’s another thing that’s changed over the past six weeks. We didn’t even attempt going back and forth between each other’s places. Nope, Chance basically moved me into his place, furniture and all. It made sense. My place was month to month, while his was a home on a couple of acres and a beautiful single-story ranch style home. I took the plunge with both feet and haven’t looked back since. That is until today.

  I try Chance’s phone one more time. This time, it goes right to voicemail. Something isn’t right. I scroll through my contacts and click on Fox’s name. Surely, he’s heard from him today.

  “What’s shaking, sister-in-law?” Fox answers on the first ring.

  “Jesus, the girl that is going to have to deal with you one day.” We both laugh at my joke. It takes some of the heaviness off my chest.

  “Nah, I’m fancy free. As much as I know you love me more than the younger Adams brother, is everything okay?”

  “One day you’ll fall, and I’ll be there to watch it. I’m trying to get ahold of Chance. I called him earlier today, and it rang, but now it goes straight to voicemail. Have you heard from him?” I ask.

  “That’ll be the day, sweetheart. Not sure that’s in the cards for me. To answer your question, nope. I haven’t heard from him. Want me to swing around the house or his hotel for you? You know how involved he gets in work. Sometimes he forgets what he needs to do besides work. Let me close up the shop, then I’ll go look for him. I’m sure he’s okay though,” Fox reassures me. There’s still that sinking feeling inside me. What if he got hurt? What if he retreated inside himself again? I really hate these what-ifs.

  “Thank you, I’d greatly appreciate that. I guess I’ll head home and wait to hear from you.” I’m trying to keep my voice calm and collected, but inside, I’m breaking down.

  “It’s alright, kiddo. Get out of the office, go home, and relax. We’ll get ahold of him.” I hum my agreement, get off the phone, and close down our office for the night. My only thoughts are to go home, open a bottle of wine, soak in the tub, and pray to God my insecurities are just that, mine to own.

  When Chance and I moved in together, the biggest shock of my life happened. Bridger came and offered to help. I was waiting for him to give Chance the talk, you know, the ‘That’s my sister. I’ll cut your balls off and bury you in the backyard’ talk. He didn’t though. Bridger and our parents helped me move in; they even welcomed Chance into the fold. I think Mom was the most excited to see me settle down, especially because her health wasn’t doing all that well not too long ago. She made statements that her only wish was to see all of her kids happily married with a child or two. And at the rate Chance and I’ve been going, that will most definitely happen. Not that I’m not on birth control, because I most definitely am, but that’s been known to fail a time or two, and it’d be fate if Chance had super sperm.

  I’m on autopilot as I head out the door to my car and make it home, locked inside my head the whole time. God, I’m a mess. It’s been maybe thirty minutes since I’ve spoken to Fox, and my patience is definitely waning if he found Chance or not.

  The house is quiet. The lights are off except the one in the living room that I left on this morning before leaving the house. I don’t bother with turning any others on, even though the sun is slowly fading. My only thought is kicking off my shoes, discarding my clothes, and climbing in the jetted bathtub.

  Once I grab a wine glass and a bottle of wine, I head for the master suite. Our home is a perfect mesh of his and my furniture. The leftovers are stored in the garage until we can figure out if we’ll need them or if they’ll be donated.

  The water is on. I’m stepping out of my heels, pulling off the sweater dress I wore today, already craving the sun and sand in South Carolina. For now, the hot tub will have to do.

  My phone vibrates, almost falling into the bathtub I’m now in. That would be the icing on the cake. I look down at the screen and see Chance’s name.

  “Chance,” I breathe through the phone.

  “Damn, baby. It sure is good to hear your voice.”

  “You can say that again. Are you okay? It’s so unlike you not to answer your phone, and it’s not like you’re in town or I’m with you. I won’t even lie and say I wasn’t worried either, about so many things. Oh God, Chance, I’m a mess.” I tuck myself into my body, my head resting on my knees as I let everything out.

  “Peyton, you’re not a mess, and I wish like hell I was there to hold you, but I’m about to board the plane. I’m coming home, baby. Fox can handle the shit that’s going on down here. You’re my priority. Now, tell me you’re going to be okay,” Chance demands. He causes me to laugh. It’s so typical of him.

  “I promise I’ll be okay. How are you getting home from the airport?” I redirect the question because I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to stay awake long enough to pick him up.

  “I’ll grab a car. You get in bed, baby. When I get in, I’ll wake you up. And, Peyton?”

  “Yes,” I croak out.

  “You own every piece of me, my heart, my soul. Don’t forget that.” I want to tell him those three words, something both of us should have said by now, but I was too much of a weenie to do so. And Chance doesn’t have to say it—he shows me his love in every way imaginable.

  “I won’t. I’ll see you soon.” I know if I don’t get off the phone, I’ll say those words right now, and I want to be face-to-face when I do.

  “Fuck yes, you will.” We hang up, my head drops back. All of my worked-up emotions were for nothing. The best thing I’ve ever done is let Chance in, and it’s where he’ll always stay. From here on out, I won’t let my crazy mind wander, not now and not ever.

  Thirteen

  Chance

  The moment Fox caught me at his house, a look of worry on his face, I knew something was wrong. That’s why when he told me Peyton was trying to get ahold of me, I shoved my tool belt off, left Paul to deal with putting things away, went right to the phone store to replace it, and called Peyton. Fox was already on his phone finding me a ticket out of South Carolina. He knew there was no way I could stay and deal with the inspector.

  Fox heard through Peyton’s laughter on the phone. That brother of mine may say he’ll never settle down, but I think once his shop and house are finished, someone will pop up when he least expects it.

  That’s why I’m here, standing at the door to our master bedroom, a deep soul-consuming burn eating at my heart while I watch the love of my life sleep. The quilt is rucked down to her feet, the sheets twisted around her naked body, as if she couldn’t find a peaceful sleep. And even though it’s been months and I’ve shown her every step of the way that I’m here and not leaving her ever again, the pain I’ve caused in the wake of my stubbornness is why she looks sleep deprived and was on the verge of tears when I finally called her back.

  I’d love nothing more than to climb into bed with her at this very moment, but being dirty from work, plus the plane ride full of recirculated air, I’m sure I smell pretty damn ripe. I’m quiet as a mouse, stripping out of my clothes in the bathroom and stepping in the shower that isn’t even heated up yet.

  My head is dipped under the water pouring from the shower head when tw
o arms circle my stomach. Peyton places a kiss on the center of my back. “Why are you out of bed, baby?” I turn around, wanting to see her for myself instead of just feeling Peyton.

  “I heard the water kick on. It’s not like I was in a deep sleep. Are you okay?” she asks me. Her breasts are pressed up against my chest. Blue eyes like the ocean, deep and dark, look up at me.

  “I’m okay, but I should be asking you that. Today wasn’t a good day, huh?” My hands find her hair, gathering it in my hand, my head already dipping to taste her lips.

  “No, seems like we both had a rough day.” Peyton’s head tips down. I saw the tears swimming in her eyes. This is unlike her. My woman doesn’t hang her head in embarrassment, and I know this isn’t shame.

  “Yeah, we did.” I use her hair to tip her head back. “But today is just a day. Tomorrow is a new day. I promise you this, you won’t ever go to bed worrying about the two of us ever again. I love you, Peyton, more than words can describe, more than I could ever show you. It’s you and me against the world.” With that, my lips meet hers, not allowing Peyton to say a word. This is me telling and showing her that there will be a time when she’ll know with every piece of her being that we’re in it forever.

  “That’s not fair, you know,” Peyton says as we pull apart.

  “Why’s that?” I respond, my grin widening into a smile.

  “I didn’t even get to tell you how I felt about you.” She stomps her foot, causing me to laugh.

  “The floor is yours, baby.” I lift her up by the back of her thighs, her back meeting the tile shower. My woman, she’ll never admit it, but Peyton loves to be carried, snuggled, and don’t even get me started on all the sex we’ve had in a shower.

  “How do you expect me to tell you how I feel when your cock is ready and I’m willing?” She lowers her hips, settling down on the head of my cock.