Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Blake

B y the time Emily and I finish securing the cabin and I pack Chloe's clothing, we're well into the morning.

The thick scent of fresh-cut pine in the air mingles with the tang of sweat on my skin, and I yearn for a shower that won't come until the end of the workday.

I keep a wary eye on the porch roof as we wedge the door closed, and I wipe my sleeve across my damp forehead. "Why don't you take Sprinkles down to the job site so you're not any later? After I bring Chloe's belongings up to the Homestead, I'll join you."

"Sure thing." She unties Sprinkles's leash from the railing.

The Newfoundland's tail wags, ready to be on the move, and he shakes his fur, sending drops flying.

Emily's laughter rings out, mixing with the drum of rain on the roof.

I hoist the suitcase onto my shoulder, and we hike up the path together, the earth squelching beneath our boots. The damp scent of the forest rises around us, along with the occasional call of a distant bird braving the last of the storm.

At the central road, Emily pounds me on the arm in farewell and veers downhill toward the dock while I continue upward, a chill seeping through my clothes.

I lift my face, grateful for the cool water washing away most of my sweat. If only it were so easy to dispel the itch of sawdust on my skin. It won't go away until I take a shower, and I still have a long day ahead of me.

When I reach the Homestead, I kick my muddy boots against the stairs before I walk up to the porch, then pause to remove my shoes and leave them outside the door. Despite my efforts, wet footsteps trail behind me as I head for the short hall to the left of the staircase.

The sound of Chloe's laughter drifts out from under her door as I near, warming me from the cold and bringing a smile to my lips. It's only been a few hours, but I already can't wait to see her again.

Not in my current state, though.

I leave the suitcase by her door and continue down to Sprinkles's room where I pop inside to towel dry and wash my hands and face. The scent of soap and the cool water on my skin invigorates me. It's not the shower I long for, but taking one now would be pointless when I have to go back out in the storm.

Back in front of Chloe's suite, I knock on the door.

The conversation cuts off, and she calls out, "Come in!"

As I enter the room, an electric tingle races down my spine at the sight of Holden and Chloe snuggled up under a blanket on the couch. Their bodies mold together like two pieces of a puzzle, a pillow across their laps holding a Tupperware laden with scones.

A carafe perches on a small table near the flickering flames of the fireplace. Warmth spreads through the room, a stark contrast to the storm outside, and the rich aroma of coffee mingles with the buttery scent of pastries.

Chloe's face lights up when she sees me. "You came back fast. How's the cabin?"

"We should be able to salvage it once things dry out, but it will be a while. In the meantime…" I heft her suitcase into view. "As requested, I brought your clothes so you can wash them yourself."

"Thank you so much." She points to the door. "You can leave it there."

"I'll show you the downstairs laundry room later," Holden offers.

"Sounds like a plan." She rubs her cheek on his shoulder, her expression soft with happiness.

As I set the suitcase by the wall, my eyes linger on her. She had changed into one of Holden's hoodies, and the fabric drapes over her frame, hinting at the curves hidden beneath. Blankets from both of our rooms adorn the king-sized bed, too, bringing our pheromones into her space.

The air carries a mix of our scents, creating a comforting, familiar environment, and a rumble of contentment vibrates in my chest. Offering items for her nest is a first step, and whether she keeps them in her room will tell us if courting her is even an option.

The sight of Holden and Chloe nestled together in a cocoon of warmth and affection draws me closer, reluctant to leave after only just arriving. I want to wrap myself around them both, mingling our pheromones and strengthening the chances for a bond to form.

"Those scones look delicious." I lean over Chloe, putting my throat close to her nose, and am gratified when her breath ruffles against my skin as she inhales. Tamping down a purr, I swipe a pastry from the Tupperware and nab Holden's mug, too.

Straightening, I take a grateful sip of caffeine, the bitter flavor a perfect complement to the sweetness of the scone. Warmth from the coffee spreads through me, easing the chill from working in the rain.

"You should have eaten before you left this morning," Holden says, a gentle reprimand in the words.

"I'll swing by the kitchen and grab something more substantial to eat on the way down to the job site." My focus shifts between them. "What's on your agenda for today?"

"Since I'm here to work, the responsible thing would be to do that." Chloe bites her lip in that adorable way that sends blood rushing south. "Or at least stare at my blank screen for a while so I can say I tried."

"I need to check the smoke on the salmon and start dinner." Holden glances at Chloe from the corner of his eye, looking loath to leave her side.

"Or you could take a night off," I suggest, resisting the pull of their cozy cuddle. "There are enough leftovers to skip cooking tonight."

Even if I have to work, they can spend the day together.

A horrified expression twists Holden's features. "We can't do that! Chloe is our guest."

"Do we have any pot pie left?" Chloe selects another scone from the container. "If so, I claim it."

Uncertainty crosses Holden's face before he relents. "We can raid the fridge later and then decide. But I do need to check the smoker. The last thing we want is dried-out salmon."

As I refill Holden's mug and return it to him, my gaze lingers on the pair. How I wish I could stay here, cuddled up with them. I'm already late to the job site, though. Not showing up will only reinforce Nathaniel's belief that I'm not serious about this project.

"Well, I'd better get going." I steal another scone and press a tender kiss to Chloe's temple, satisfaction rising within me at the vanilla flowers lingering on her soft skin.

I lean over the back of the couch to rub my and Holden's cheeks together, his stubble catching in my beard, the difference comforting in its own way.

With a laugh, he pushes me away. "Try not to catch a cold out there."

"If I do, be sure to nurse me back to health." I ruffle his curls, then snatch back my hand before he slaps my knuckles. "Have fun, you two. See you tonight."

The words feel far too right, like something I'll be saying to them every morning from now on, and my chest aches as I leave the warm cocoon of the suite behind.

The rain slows to a trickle as I approach the construction site, my boots sinking into the mud with each step.

As I draw closer, I hear Nathaniel's voice, as gruff as ever, yelling at the crew over the sound of hammers and saws, drowning out the faint cries of seagulls above.

"Come on, people! We don't have all day!" he barks, scanning the area for slackers.

Rain mats his short, swept-back blond hair against his forehead, but it does nothing to diminish his commanding presence.

The chaos of scattered lumber and tools surround the storm-ravaged cabins, half-built and now damaged. Far off to the right, the dock shows damage of its own, with splintered planks sticking up like broken teeth, reaching out towards the churning ocean.

An unfamiliar boat is anchored to the posts, and the rhythmic crashing of waves adds to the noise. The occasional whiff of diesel from the generators and the sharp sap of cut wood mix with the salty air.

"Blake!" Nathaniel's voice snaps me back to attention. "So, you finally decided to show up."

"Sorry." I rub the back of my neck. "Didn't realize how bad things were out here."

"Of course you didn't." His lip curls in disgust. "While you were lollygagging, the rest of us have been busting our asses trying to repair the damage from the storm."

Men and women bustle around us like bees in a hive, giving Nathaniel and me a wide berth as they work to clean up the debris. Their movements are quick and efficient, their muscles straining beneath rain-soaked clothes.

Emily catches my eye as she moves past, and she shakes her head in warning. She hasn't mentioned what ate up our morning. I don't blame her, considering his current mood. No reason to throw fuel on the fire.

"Even Kyle's been working, trying to track down our water taxi." Nathaniel squints toward the ocean, worry flickering across his face. "God knows how far it got during the night."

My stomach knots. The boat wasn't cheap to buy. Hopefully, he finds it undamaged, and before some enterprising salvager picks it up for parts.

"Well, I'm here now." I set my jaw. "Where am I needed most?"

"Start on the dock," Nathaniel directs, not looking at me. "Kyle needs somewhere safe to tie off the ferry when he returns."

I swallow past the dryness in my throat and nod.

Nathaniel's anger comes from a place of anxiety and fear over the setback this will cause to our timeline. We're in a precarious situation until Phase One completes, and we're turning a profit.

But the knowledge doesn't lessen the burn from his glare or take the sting from his acidic words.

Even so, our bond tells me my packmate is hurting. The urge to touch Nathaniel, to offer comfort and assurance that we'll get through this, brings me a step forward before he turns his back to yell at another worker, dismissing me in the process.

Teeth clenched, I gather tools and march to the shattered dock, the wind whipping against my skin and salty spray burning my eyes.

The boards groan beneath my boots, the planks slick with rainwater.

Up close, the damage isn't as bad as I first thought. The biggest issue is where the ferry had been tied off yesterday. I drop my tool bag and crouch to inspect the nearest piling. The rough wood scrapes my palm, and the structure sways with each slap of a wave.

"Blake!" Emily calls out, her voice cutting the distance. "Need a hand?"

My head lifts, and I meet her steel-gray gaze. "Can't stand being near the growling bear?"

She grimaces and pulls a crowbar from her belt. "If Nathaniel barks at me one more time, I'm going to knock some sense into him with my fists."

"Tried that." I shake my head. "It doesn't work."

Nathaniel and I had devolved into more than one brawl while growing up on construction sites.

A check over my shoulder reveals the man in question glaring in our direction, as if he's daring me to fail, to prove his anger is justified. "Damn, it's tempting to try one more time, though."

"Take him down to the gym tonight to blow off some steam." She gives me a considering once over and waggles her eyebrows. "Unless you have another way for him to release all that pent-up tension?"

My lips part on a sharp intake. Shit. Is Nathaniel nearing his rut?

As if she can hear my thoughts, Emily pats me on the back in sympathy. "All the signs are present, but I'm not sure Nathaniel's noticed yet. Someone needs to handle it before he scares off all my workers."

An image of Chloe's sweet face flashes in front of me. He'll scare her away if he goes into rut while she's near. "I'll handle it."

With a nod, we focus on the task at hand, tearing up broken boards and replacing them. Thankfully, when we did the last repair, we bought extras just for this eventuality.

It's hard work, with the rise-and-fall of the ocean and the splash of the waves adding to the challenge. It takes my mind off everything else going on, and I lose myself to each swing of the hammer, the vibration of the strikes traveling up my arm.

Hours pass in a blur as we put the dock back together. The storm passes without notice until the sun beating down dries my clothes and heats the crown of my head.

I grab a dirty handkerchief from my back pocket to wipe my sweaty brow, then take the sports drink Emily offers.

At some point, she had stripped off her shirt to work in her sports bra, and the top of her shoulders glow red with the start of a burn.

She holds a hand over her eyes and squints out over the waves. "Looks like Kyle was successful."

When I rise to join her, I spot the water taxi coming toward us, Kyle's dinghy dragged behind by a tether.

Relief sweeps through me, and I wave my arms.

He honks the horn in greeting.

Emily and I separate, and when Kyle bumps up to the repaired dock, we grab ropes and tie them to the anchors. Then I meet Kyle at the stern to haul in the smaller vessel he uses to putter around the shoreline.

"Found her floating off the eastern end of the island, pretty far out," he grunts. "We weren't the only ones who lost a boat, either. A raft got moored in the small cove. Figured I could go fetch it and tow it back to the mainland. The owner can collect it from there."

I clap him on the back. "Good man."

"Well, I might be craving some beer from the tavern, too." He casts a glance back toward Nathaniel. "May rent a room for the night and return with the workers in the morning."

My bondmate's shout cracks through the air, and I wince in sympathy for whatever worker earned his wrath. "I don't blame you. Drink an extra pint for me."

A grin splits Kyle's face. "If you insist, who am I to argue?"

"Me and the crew will join you." Emily scrubs her shirt over her sun-kissed face. "Blake's treating."

I nod in agreement. "Charge the company card, but don't party too hard. We'll be back at it come dawn."

Emily grips my shoulder. "You know what you have to do."

With a sigh, I peer toward Nathaniel. "Pray for me."

If Nathaniel's rut is coming on, it's going to be a long night.