“Nice try, but I’m not letting you give up that easily. I bet he’s in there. My psychic senses…” Grace climbs out of the car, and I shake my head at her departing back as she hurries past the men in tool belts and hard hats leaning against the side of the steps and dauntlessly walks through the open front door. Sighing and rolling my eyes, I reluctantly follow, getting inside just in time to hear Grace effusively complimenting the progress of the house. “Kit, this looks like a whole new living room!”
My grey eyes rove over the fresh drywall waiting to be painted, the wood floor finally rid of that terrible carpet, and I see what I hadn’t noticed before. Zephyr Brothers is turning the place into a home. My heart does a little jump in my chest because I see so much potential, and I think about some other person buying the place and taking it from me. “Mom would be pleased,” I say with a bittersweet twist of my lips.
There’s no one in the front of the house but I hear men’s voices coming from the back bedroom. Grace beckons for me and jets off down the hall. “Grace, I don’t want to interrupt them.”
“Kit, is that you?” Suddenly Jayson steps out of the backroom, his hulking frame taking up the entire corridor. “Just the person I wanted to see. Come take a look at this.”
“Oh, my!” Grace audibly gasps, stepping back and bumping into me. I grab her shoulders to steady her, giggling at her reaction until my eyes adjust to the darker space and I get a good look at him for myself. Jayson is standing there shirtless in a dusty pair of Levi’s jeans, tool belt slung low on his hips. He beckons for me to come into the room, and I step past my awestruck friend to see what the contractor wants to show me.
When I enter the bedroom, the transformation is much greater than I expected, and it looks like there isn’t much work left to be done. The floors are completely restored, beautiful wide boards the color of caramel, and the walls are ready to be painted. One of the windows, which had been cracked, has been repaired. Grace gushes, “Wow! You guys work fast.” I turn in a slow circle to take it all in, envisioning a wrought iron bed beneath a small antique crystal chandelier, maybe a few accent chairs. There’s room for an armoire by the door. I’m seeing muted pastels for the palette, and I get a heady rush at the ideas that flood my mind. I can’t wait to start decorating.
“Oh, Jayson, this is my best friend, Grace. Gracie, this is Jayson Zephyr.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Grace. Hey, Kit, here’s what I wanted to show you. I got in a shipment of wallpapers I thought would do the guestroom justice, but I wanted your opinion on which of these you want. That’s why I came by this evening. I was planning on leaving a few swatches for you to take a gander at whenever you dropped in, but I’m glad I’m here to show you personally.”
He gazes at me, and I warm under his pale-ale eyes, blushing at how easily he can make me feel dizzy with interest for him. I try not to stare at his chest, though my eyes keep dropping downward. Grace openly stares and gives me a thumbs-up when he turns his back to get the rolls of paper leaning against the wall in a corner of the room. I know exactly what she’s thinking: This guy is worth risking my mom’s disapproval.
“This is the first one of them,” says Jayson. My eyes widen as he unfurls a roll of silk silver and black damask reminiscent of a French boudoir. It’s not the look I had in mind for the room, but it’s exquisite.
“Are you sure I can afford this?” I whisper, knowing well how expensive silk paper can get.
“Factored into the estimate. I get discounts on stuff like this. It can be costly, but I’m not going to put you over your budget,” he assures me.
Grace steps up and peeks, too. She’s an art major with an appreciation for beauty, and her eyes light up at the sight of it. “What else do you have?” I ask.
He unfurls a Baroque art deco in rich gold with Victorian geometrics drawn in indigo. “I think I’m in love,” Grace bubbles.
I nod in agreement. “Jayson, do you pick these out yourself? If you do, you have superb taste.”
“Hah!” he chuckles. “I’m not really much of a decorator. I just try to gauge what I think my clients will like, judging by what I know of their background and personal style.” He glances pointedly at me, and I’m pleased he’s paid that much attention to know my tastes so well.
I’m drawn to the baroque, but it’s the next roll he shows me that fits the vision I had for the spare room. “This is the one.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, definitely,” I nod enthusiastically. I finger the heavyweight paper, intrigued by the curving umber branches studded with oval leaves of teal, sapphire peacocks hiding in the foliage, against a chalky marine blue. “It reminds me of Golden Gate Park on a perfect summer day.”
He smiles at me as if I’d just invited him to a picnic on such a day. The idea makes my blood heat. “Excellent choice,” he says. “I’m thinking you should be in here by Christmas, Kit.”
Grace puts her hand on her hip and stares me down. “Yeah, you could be in here by Christmas, Kit.”
“Actually, I think I mentioned before that I’m flipping this house,” I reiterate, smirking playfully at my friend.
Jayson shrugs and says, “Either way, the work will be done in about another three weeks. You want to take a look upstairs?”
Chapter 7
JAYSON
She’s been staring from the moment she walked into the spare room. I feel not the least bit self-conscious about walking around bare-chested in front of her. Maybe she sees something she likes. Maybe she thinks I’m an uncouth carpenter, and it’s offending her sensibilities. I’m thinking it’s more the former than the latter as she drops her gaze to about my navel level yet again. I casually put a hand to my abs, and her eyes fly guiltily to my face.
“Sure, yeah. Let’s see what’s upstairs,” she replies.
“Right this way, ladies,” I say, happy to play tour guide. As I’m taking them up to the second floor, I hear my crew come in downstairs. With Castiel as foreman, the handful of extras we hired have fallen in nicely, and we actually are making record time on the renovations. I’ve put in extra work, making sure the job gets done well, considering the Pacific Heights address on the check signed by Mrs. Schneider. Wealthy clients like her are exactly the sort I need boosting my company’s reputation by word of mouth.
I know there isn’t anything upstairs worth showing off yet, but I can’t resist trying to hold Kit’s attention for just a little longer.
“So, in the master bedroom we’ve taken up the carpet and we’ve sanded the floor. The wood’s ready to be stained. Now, this bathroom up here, Kit. You still want me to rip out that tile like your mom asked? I think it has so much character. It just feels like you when I see it.” Her choice of wallpaper has only increased my certainty. This girl likes rich color and she likes to set a mood. These tiles have and do just that.
“It is one of the things that appealed to me when I initially saw it,” she confesses.
I think about how she shot me down the first time I suggested it, but I simply nod when she finally okays me to keep and restore it. Maybe she was listening after all. Or maybe she just needs to not have her mother within a mile or so. I wonder about her dad. Not in the picture? Kit and her friend, Grace, jump when the table saw downstairs fires up, the sound of someone hammering adding to the cacophony.
“Oh my gosh! How do you stand that all day?” Kit complains, shouting over the noise. I hold up my earplugs, chuckling.
“Come on. Let’s get you ladies out of here before they rupture an eardrum,” I suggest. Kit and her friend head downstairs ahead of me, holding their ears. I make a cutting motion with my hand once I get within eyesight of the fellas. Suddenly the table saw Devon is using whirs to a halt and Larry stops hammering.
“Sorry, boss,” he says.
Kit explains, “We have to get going anyway. Got some things to get to before it’s too late. I trust you, Jayson. I don’t have to monitor everything, but if you need my opinion on anything else like t
he wallpaper, just call my cellphone. I think I gave you the number, didn’t I?”
Castiel waggles his eyebrows at me from his perch against the doorjamb while her back is turned. I ignore him and reply, “Yeah, I’m sure it’s with your paperwork.” She stares at me extra-long, and she nibbles her lower lip sexily. I damn near break out in a sweat just watching her, the ridge of a boner trying to form making my jeans a little uncomfortable. To hide it, I turn away from those grey-blue eyes and focus my attention on what else needs to be done downstairs.
Out of the corner of my eye I spot Kit forcibly dragging Grace out of the room and hear both of them burst out laughing as soon as they exit the house, but the girlish giggles are cut short by an angry shout, and I see Castiel turn and look out the door.
“—Can’t get any damn sleep!” a man yells right out front. I take quick strides to the door to assess the situation with Cast. There’s a pissed off neighbor confronting Kit. “Is this your place? Do y’all even have the necessary permits to do this stuff? You’ve got the streets all cluttered up through the day with all these damn cars. I can’t even park my bike, and those power tools are running day and night!”
“I’m sorry. I’m pretty sure they don’t work through the night, though. But, w-we have the permits,” Kit stammers, drawing into herself at his obvious ire when he takes a step closer. He looms over her, trying to intimidate her with his height, though he’s thin as a rail and rangy. He’s a cocky young twenty-something with skinny arms covered in tattoos and a bad attitude written all over his face, and while I generally avoid confrontations, I’m not about to let him walk all over my client.
I step down the stairs and march over to them, scowling as I approach. “Is there a problem?”
He gives me a wary once-over. I remember at the last minute I’m still shirtless. I pop my knuckles and square my shoulders, consciously showing off biceps honed from years of hard labor and occasional gym time. The message is clear. I could whoop this guy up and down the street if I have to, and he knows it. He changes his tune when he’s talking to me. “You in charge of this rig, sir? Yo, I live with my momma next door, and a lot of the others on this strip ain’t too happy with y’all disturbing the peace, as I was telling your girl here. They might not say nothin’, but I gotta get some sleep. I work nights!”
“We operate during reasonable hours of the day to minimize the disturbance, though I apologize if our schedule doesn’t mesh well with yours. Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about the noise and neither can Ms. Schneider, but we might be able to work out something if you would kindly not approach the young lady with such hostility in your voice. That’ll be a good start for everyone…especially you.”
Beside me, Castiel casually materializes a hammer from a rung of his tool belt and drops it into his palm with a promising thwack. The guy skittishly looks from my younger brother to me. I cock my head to the side, challenging him. Without breaking eye contact with the tattooed loudmouth, I tell Kit, “You and Grace can go on. I’ll take care of this.” Out of the corner of my eye I glimpse her grateful nod as she folds her statuesque body into the Fiat on the curbside and drives off.
“I don’t want no trouble,” he replies, backing down, hands up in surrender. “I work nights at the movie theater, and I just want to get some rest during the day, man. That’s all. I hate that fucking job, but that’s all I can get and I’ll lose that one too if I don’t get some sleep.”
I size him up. “You got a criminal background?”
“Why?” he spits. I shrug, glancing off. When I look back I see he’s gotten my drift. I could give him a job that’ll probably pay him a damn sight better than the movie theater. “I mean, I got this one charge for possession, but you see I’m tryna get my life straight.”
“How about a job with some benefits and a work schedule that won’t keep you up all night? I’m looking for some steady help, but I will run a background check. If you’re lying to me, I’ll find out. You’ll also have to pass a drug test. If everything checks out, I can pay you fifteen an hour.”
His eyes widen at the sum. It’s my standard pay for general help. I’m not sure he’ll work out at Zephyr Brothers, but I’m willing to give him a try if he’s willing to take the offer. “Are you serious, man?” he asks incredulously. I nod, trying not to smile. I can see in his eyes he hasn’t gotten a lot of lucky breaks in life. He almost reminds me of me.
“By the way, you will apologize to Ms. Schneider for calling her out like that,” I reply firmly.
“Ah, yeah, no problem. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it,” he replies with a grin. I hand him one of my cards, which he pockets, and watch him jauntily walk back to the house next door. “Thanks, man!” he calls out before going inside.
I look back at Castiel who looks disappointed at not getting to fight. “Thought he was gonna get jumpy,” he says sheepishly, sliding his hammer back in his belt. I erupt with laughter.
“You know what I think we need tonight, bro?” I ask. He looks at me expectantly, and I know I’m about to shock him, but I really need this break. “I think we need to go out someplace and have some drinks.”
Castiel lets out a whoop and races inside, shouting for Dev. “You’re not gonna believe this, bro!”
I don’t know if I’m gonna regret this, but…the Zephyr brothers are going out tonight.
* * *
Either I’m turning into a crotchety old man at twenty-four years old, or the music in the underground club really is louder than all my power tools combined. My ears are ringing and we haven’t even been here ten minutes. The beat is up-tempo and filled with bass, but I lean against the red brick wall, eyeing the crowded dance floor like it’s a leper colony. I haven’t spoken to a single other person besides Dev and Castiel, who have disappeared god knows where. The youngest Zephyr, eighteen-year-old Ashby, is at my place holding down the fort with Mom until I head home…which I desperately want to do now. I feel out of place, like I’m way too settled for this shit.
I probably don’t look too out of place, though. I’m dressed about the same as the other guys I see, in a simple black shirt with sleeves rolled up to my elbows and a pair of distressed jeans. For me, they’re work clothes… with the exception of the black and brown leather wingtips I threw on at the last minute. “Hey, good looking,” a hot brunette whispers as she passes me. I nod but don’t take the bait. I hate to say it, but I think I’ve outgrown the club scene before ever even getting into it, and I’m only twenty-four. Just seems like a waste of time to flirt up chicks there’s no possible chance of getting serious with while drinking watered-down liquor and dancing to music I wouldn’t listen to at home. Unfortunately I can’t just dip out on Cast and Dev, having not hung out with them in almost a year.
“Whisky sour.” I rap the top of the bar after fighting my way through the crush to get to the bartender. He takes the drink order and bustles off to get it ready while I lean against the countertop and scan the crowd. It’s a Thursday night, and it looks like the city’s sexiest young people are out in full effect. I try to shake the crotchety old man feeling. Castiel materializes next to me, a loopy grin on his face from one too many vodkas, but he looks like he’s having a good time.
“Where’s Dev?” I lean in and ask him. Castiel shakes his head and puts a hand to my chest.
“No way are we letting you play the overprotective big brother tonight, man. Dev is fine. He’s somewhere breaking hearts, as usual.” I chuckle, dropping my hypervigilance a little, even though I can’t help peering around one more time to see if I can spot him. “Dude, I was dancing with this girl when—.
Castiel stops midsentence, staring past me. “What?” I ask, turning around with concern. “Oh, wow.”
“Is that Kit?” he hisses at me with a nudge. My head bobs up and down, throat dry at the sight of her. Kitrina Schneider and her friend Grace stand at the end of the bar. My client’s dressed uncharacteristically in a midriff tank top and a leg-baring short skirt that sends my p
ulse into a sprint. Rippling white blond hair spills over her shoulders and down to the center of her back, and she laughs gaily at something Grace says to her. I shove my drink into Castiel’s hands and leave him to stare after me with mouth agape.
I see the minute she spots me. The hills of her breasts rise with her sharp intake of air. She blindly clutches at Grace’s hand, freezing up like a deer in the headlights as I approach, but Grace beams. “Jayson?” she squeals. “What a pleasant surprise! Kit was just talking about you!”
Kit jabs her with an elbow to the ribcage, and I hide a smile.
“Is that so? How bad was it? I can take the truth.”
With a mischievous grin, Grace peeks at Kit. “Well, she said—.”
“That you’re doing a great job on the house!” Kit blurts with an insincere laugh. I can’t take my eyes off her. The glittery blue stuff on her eyes sets off her mesmerizing gaze, and her pouty lips are an inviting shade of soft pink. Suddenly being out at the club doesn’t feel so much like an obligation. I reach for her hand involuntarily, unable to keep from feeling her. Our eyes roam over each other. Just as earlier in the day when she had stopped by the house and I had shown her the wallpaper, her interest is obvious, but whether or not she’ll act on it is up for grabs. When our fingers connect, she doesn’t pull away, however.
“What are you ladies drinking?” I ask, motioning for the bartender.
“Um, I don’t drink. I just want a soda,” Kit says. I’m not sure I believe her. All university girls drink. I glance at Grace, who asks for a lightweight mixed drink I happen to know has a very low alcohol content. For whatever reason, the fact Kit and her friend don’t seem to be alcoholics in training like too many other women their age pleases me.
Jayson: A New Adult / Coming of Age Romance Page 6
