Give a Little

by Lee Kilraine

  “That’s not an actual thing,” Eli said, sliding us each a cup of coffee before sitting down.

  “Man flu’s real,” Ash said. “I think I’ve got it too.”

  “Then why haven’t you two gone to see your doctors if it’s real?” Eli’s gaze ping-ponged between me and Ash.

  “I don’t want to be benched.” Ash played defense for the Raleigh Roughnecks pro hockey team. They had a shot to make the playoffs this year, so sitting out was the last thing he’d want. Especially if he’d just lost a few days to a concussion.

  “I went last week, and my man flu is real no matter what my doc says.” I might be a bit defensive, but no one likes getting that look from their doctor—that polite but slightly skeptical it’s-all-in-your-head look.

  “Ha.” Eli grunted as if one doctor’s opinion proved his point. “You might want to get tested for mono or STDs instead. Those are more real than man flu.”

  “I don’t have mono or an STD.” I’d had her test me for everything anyway. And every test came back negative. I hadn’t thought that was the problem since I was excruciatingly careful when it came to sex. Plus, there was the fact that I hadn’t actually slept with anyone in, hell, I couldn’t even remember when. Another sure sign that something wasn’t right. But I was willing to turn over every stone to get to the bottom of this. My doctor said I was healthy as a horse, but the feeling in my chest said different.

  “I don’t know, Gray.” Ash shrugged. “You’ll sleep with anyone.”

  “Not true. I no longer sleep with psychologists. Not after I had one try to psychoanalyze me afterward.”

  Ash raised a brow. “Too close to your dark soul, huh?”

  “Maybe. Made the whole post-coital cuddle session a no-go.”

  “Didn’t know you had those,” Eli said.

  I didn’t. What was the point of escaping into meaningless sex if someone was going to try to get to know you after? Let alone examine your soul? As if I had one to examine.

  The psychologist had theorized that I used sex to experience a quick shot of closeness without exposing myself to the risk of pain and emotional vulnerability. I’m not saying she was wrong; I’m saying I politely hustled her out the door in record time.

  Ever since then, I’d been off my game. The last few months I’d stopped going out as much, stopped looking for women wanting meaningless no-strings sex, and stopped having it. And I wasn’t sure I missed it much. But when you’re sick with the man flu what else would you expect?

  “You two need to go on a sex fast. It has both healing and cleansing properties.”

  “Eli, where do you come up with this weird shit?” I asked.

  “Probably the same place that told you the man flu was real.”

  Ash snorted. “You’re just saying that because you don’t have it. If you’d ever had man flu, you wouldn’t be so flippant.”

  I looked at Ash and nodded. Sounded like we were in the same place, wherever the hell that was.

  “Fine. I don’t want to do it, but you’re forcing my hand,” Eli said, grabbing out his wallet. “It’s for your own good.”

  “Don’t you dare do it, Eli.” I gave him my toughest look, hoping to intimidate him enough to stop him in his tracks. I knew where this was heading.

  “I have to. When a Thorne brother is suffering, we step up and help.” He pulled money from his wallet and tossed in into the middle of the table between the three of us. “I bet you both one thousand dollars you can’t abstain from sex.”

  “That’s bullshit.” Ash rolled his eyes. “First, I absolutely can abstain. Second, you didn’t say for how long, so it’s a bullshit bet. Third, why the hell are you walking around with a thousand dollars in your wallet?”

  All excellent points to my mind.

  “For this exact moment,” Eli said. “Now, are you two in or out? Are you taking the bet or not?”

  Well, fuck. Here was the thing… We couldn’t turn down a bet. It started back when we were kids. Small bets—I’m talking bets where you won polished rocks or a pet frog—kept us going on the extra crappy days growing up in our dysfunctional, abusive family.

  “How long?” I mean, one week, one month, or one year were very different beasts.

  “Time is a constraint of a frail mind.”

  “Been hitting up those hot yoga classes again?” Ash asked.

  “Maybe. We don’t need a time limit. Let’s say, last man standing wins.” He looked at us both, his arms crossed over his chest in challenge.

  “Fine,” I said, thinking I’d play my ace in the hole to shut this down. “As long as you’re in too.”

  “Oh, I’m in.” He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

  Check and mate. Once again, I’d underestimated Eli.

  “Is kissing allowed?” Ash asked.

  “Kissing isn’t sex, so yes.” Eli shrugged. “If you think you’re strong enough to not be tempted, kiss at your own risk.”

  “Whatever, Eli.” Ash crossed his arms over his chest and our gazes met for a long second before he said, “Fine. I’m in. Gray?”

  “Fuck,” I said.

  “Not unless you want to lose the bet,” Eli said.

  “This is an idiotic bet, but fine, I’m in too.” It wasn’t like I was going to be having much sex anyway since I’d probably succumb to my case of man flu.

  Chapter 3

  Tessa

  The doorbell rang right on cue, and my dog Sully, a three-year-old blue and gold Yorkie, sprang to quiet attention. I scooped his little ten-pound body into my arms on my way to the front door. “Such a good boy.”

  I was both nervous and excited about my renovation. After going back and forth about it for almost a month, I’d finally made an appointment with Six Brothers Construction. It wasn’t because the house didn’t need it. It did. It was because I found change and the idea of the disruption of construction too stressful.

  But it was time. Okay, past time. I’d procrastinated a bit too long. If I was going to make a serious go of my new venture, Bow Wow Meow, Tessa’s Mobile Pet Treats, at the very least I needed to gut the kitchen. I’d bought the house from my Grandma Gigi, and I was pretty sure everything in it was original. From the plumbing to the appliances to the kitchen cupboards with six coats of paint. Authentically vintage was how I liked to think of it. But the kitchen wouldn’t handle all the baking I needed to do.

  Today was simply the initial meeting with Beck Thorne to discuss my renovation, and so he could get measurements for an estimate and put together a proposal.

  That’s what I told myself when I swung open my front door and found Gray Thorne on my porch. My inner voice whispered again, only this time it said, “This one.”

  Holy heck, inner voice, why would you say that now? As if I wasn’t already nervous about all the changes in my life; talk about going into freak out mode. Before I could stop myself—or think, obviously—I slammed the door in his face. Crap.

  I leaned my back against the door and hyperventilated. Because one look at the man and I was back in the bar, his hand warm and firm on my belly, my back pressed tight against his hard body. Goosebumps popped up on my arms at the memory.

  This one? No. It can’t be this one. This one gets around. This one doesn’t do commitment. This one won’t have my back any more than my ex did. Just no. No matter how gorgeous he was. No matter how much he turned my insides to a honeyed hive buzzing with need.

  I fished my phone from my pocket and texted Laura.

  Me: Crap! It’s Gray. I wasn’t prepared for him.

  Laura: Relax. It’s just a sales pitch. Ignore everything I said about kissing him.

  Me: OMG! Why did you bring that up?!

  Laura: Grab Sully. Calm down and have the meeting. Don’t stare at his lips.

  Me: You used to be my best friend.

  Lau
ra: Tough love, sister.

  Okay, I could do this. I could do this. I ran my hand over Sully’s fur and felt my muscles let go of their tension. I turned around, took in a bracing breath, and threw the front door open again.

  “Hello,” I said, using my cheerful, I’m-not-crazy-voice. Oh, boy, even knowing he was on my porch, I was still unprepared for him. He was a shock to my system. It had been a month since Halloween and I’d forgotten everything. How tall he was. How solid and strong he looked. How blue his eyes were—so blue.

  Do not look at his lips. Do not look—I looked. Nice. Really nice. Kissable.

  Focus, Tessa, focus.

  “Hello again.” Gray’s apologetic half-grin was too sexy for words. “Ms. Madigan? I’m Gray Thorne with Six Brothers Construction. I thought we had an appointment scheduled for today at one, but maybe I got the day or time wrong.”

  “No, the time is accurate. Wow, some wind, huh? Woo, just slammed the door closed. Sorry. Anyway, I was expecting your brother. He and I spoke on the phone and…” Sully, the traitor, was whining to get closer to the new human. “Quiet.”

  I was talking to the dog, but my command had Gray’s eyes jerking over to mine. Whatever.

  “Uh… Every Thorne brother has experience in all phases of the renovation and building process, so we can each cover any part of a job as needed.” Again with the smile, which was darn powerful. “If you’d rather wait for my brother…”

  “If you’re telling me you Thorne brothers are interchangeable, then I guess it might as well be you giving the spiel. So, no reason you shouldn’t come in.” I didn’t want to give myself the chance of procrastinating longer, so I led the way into the kitchen at the back of the house. “Coffee? Oh, sorry, no. Never mind. I forgot I was out. No coffee.”

  “I’m actually fine.” Gray looked around the kitchen with interest, his gaze doing a thorough sweep. “Very nice. You’ve got one of the original old ladies built back in the ’50s. These houses can withstand a nuclear blast.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “That’s not true. A nuclear blast would level the whole city.”

  His head whipped around to me. “Right. It was just an expression. I meant that these are well-built houses.”

  Nice, Tessa. I stared at him longer than was comfortable for either of us. Mostly me.

  “Well, let’s sit and you can tell me about your company, how you work, and what type of timeframe I can expect.” I took the farthest kitchen chair from him, settling Sully on my lap. Sully would keep me calm while I listened to the reno details and tried to keep the idea of kissing Gray Thorne (thank you very much, Laura) out of my mind. I needed to pay attention as I was spending real money on this renovation. It was just that I was having a hard time focusing while I was this close to Gray. Close to Gray and his beautiful mouth. He had nice, well-formed lips. The bottom one plump enough to bite. I was so distracted I was even more awkward than normal. “I assume you have a laptop in your purse.”

  Purse? No, what was the dang word? Briefcase. I knew that. Heck, my mind went blank when his blue eyes landed on me, and I couldn’t think of the correct word. So purse fell out. My years of working in the business world and careful observation revealed that many men were allergic to purses. Not only did they not like to hold their significant other’s purse, but they didn’t appreciate their briefcases, portfolios, or manly-man attachés being referred to as purses. But Gray Thorne just grinned at me as he slid his laptop from his bag. Of course he did.

  “All right, why don’t you tell me everything I need to know about your company as if we were on a speed date?” The faster I could get away from Gray Thorne’s pheromones, dimples, face, body, and what looked like very sexy, kissable lips—well, the better for my sanity.

  “Never having been on a speed date, how about I give you the scouting report instead? Six Brothers Construction has officially been in business for over five years in Raleigh. We’re licensed and bonded and have an A+ rating with the Better Business Bureau. Of course, I’m more than happy to provide you with a list of references to call for an unbiased opinion. We’ve handled projects from a few hundred dollars to whole house renovations of million dollar mansions. Each and every job we do gets the same specialized attention no matter the size and scope. No job is too small for our best work.”

  He proceeded to present a small slideshow on his laptop, which I appreciated because it gave me something else to look at other than his mouth. He clicked through their company’s portfolio (very impressive) and wrapped it up by giving a bit of the brothers’ background about how they were raised on a commune in Montana and learned the building craft at an early age (sort of sexy and unique).

  “Why you, Mr. Thorne?”

  “Please, call me Gray.”

  “Why you, Gray?”

  “Why me what?”

  “Why should I hire SBC over the other construction companies I’ll be interviewing?”

  “At SBC we’re guided by the core principles of hard work, quality craftsmanship, and integrity. We’ve got the expertise to design and implement your vision. And we firmly believe a job isn’t finished until the client is satisfied.”

  “Six brothers? Will every brother work on my house? How does that work?”

  “Usually, each of us has our hands on some phase of every project. Except today, since I’m stepping in for Beck while he wraps up a big job. Which means I’ll put together the proposal and write up your estimate. Beck watches the bottom line so we stick to the budget. As the project manager and designer, it’s my job to help a client find exactly what they want as far as style. Aesthetics, textures, colors. I help bring it all together so each room in the house harmonizes in a cohesive way. Wyatt is our in-house architect; he’ll be the one drawing up the plans and specs depending on if you’re wanting to tear down walls and expand rooms to create a more updated, open-house feel. Eli oversees the actual construction. And then our brother Ash subs in as his schedule allows and pitches in wherever there’s a need.”

  “What about the last one?”

  “The last one what?”

  “The last brother. You only listed off five brothers. What does the sixth one do?”

  I watched his jaw clench as his eyes flicked away from mine. He blinked twice before turning back to me.

  “The last Thorne brother is off on sabbatical right now.”

  “What is his role with the company?”

  Once again his eyes slid away and the muscles in his jaw tightened and released before he answered. “He actually doesn’t have a role within the company at the present time.”

  “So you’re saying Six Brothers Construction is really Five Brothers Construction?”

  He frowned at me. “Technically, yes. But I don’t actually see how that matters.”

  “As a potential client, it makes me wonder if you’re misleading on purpose or just rounding up to an even number.” Ugh. My quirky brain needed to get the numbers to match up. It was the former accountant in me. Plus the communication skills of an awkward introvert. I wanted to stop talking, but my mouth just kept going. “And if you do that with the name of your company, will you do it with measurements, costs, and budgets?”

  Gray’s eyes narrowed, pinning me where I sat. His face went stiff, his forehead creased with a frown, and his nostrils flared.

  Oh, nice. Awkward Tessa had taken over the meeting. Awkward Tessa had a way of putting her foot in her mouth and innocently pissing people off.

  “Why not just change it to Five Brothers Construction?” Seriously, stop it.

  “Because,” he growled out the answer.

  “It would be more accurate.” Shut. Up. Tessa.

  “But not more truthful. Look—not that I need to explain this to you—but the deal is due to circumstances out of our control, we lost track of our brother years ago. Because we need to know he’s okay—because we wan
t him to know he’s always a part of our lives—we included him. So six brothers. Always.”

  Oh wow. The fierce passion in his blue gaze knocked me back. I knew exactly how it felt to miss someone that much. I wanted to offer my apology, but my throat had gone tight. I couldn’t look without feeling the hollowness in my chest. I dropped my gaze away, down to Sully’s look of unconditional love and concern, letting his sweet face settle my emotions.

  It wasn’t my intention to make Gray angry.

  “I’m sorry I brought it up. I wouldn’t if I’d known. It’s just—I have this thing with numbers. Sorry. The six and the five—they didn’t add up. I hope you find him.”

  His look changed. He either recovered quickly or hid it well. Neither of which I could do, so I sank my fingers into Sully’s fur, my mind too numb to think.

  But that flash of pain and anger I’d seen in Gray’s eyes was all too familiar. I’d been there. I hated that cold hollow feeling in my chest. So empty. So sad. I didn’t want to go back there for fear I’d be stuck wandering around and never find my way out again. The crazy feeling that Gray Thorne was wandering around in the same cold, empty place was what thrust me back into the moment with a burning need to grab on to the promise of something better...something bordering on happy.

  I felt like I’d been given a secret glimpse into the real Gray Thorne. It seemed the sexy smile and laid-back cool playboy image he projected hid the inner man. A man who was deeper and more vulnerable than I would have guessed. That glimpse made me want to take a second look at Gray. Okay, fine, more like an eighty-sixth look, but the man was hard to not look at.

  Laura’s idea of kissing Gray Thorne didn’t sound so crazy all of a sudden. And it had nothing to do with needing a benchmark kiss to compare Paul’s kiss to. Not one thing. It had to do with the pull I’d felt toward Gray the first time I’d seen him. But mostly it was the glimpse of the Gray Thorne he kept hidden from the world. I’d seen his flash of pain and need. I’d seen his flash of passion and devotion. Pay attention. I think I was beginning to understand.