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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Cash

I woke with a contented stretch, all my muscles languid and body warm and heavy. My dick was hard, but that was just morning wood. I recognized the morning-after glow instantly.

I’d had a very good fuck last night.

Declan’s arm tightened on my waist, and he huffed a breath against the back of my neck. Correction: I’d had a very good fuck with my boyfriend last night.

Reels of the night before played through my head, making my dick harder. I chanced a glance over my shoulder, but Declan was still out cold. Usually, he woke before me. I must have dicked him down really fucking good.

I grinned into the pillow. It was tempting to wake him and ask for more, but he was unlikely to want it again so soon. He’d told me not to worry about asking, but I didn’t want the guy to feel under siege just because I was a horny bastard.

The images from last night were more than enough to get me off. I lowered my hand and stroked my dick nice and slow, breath hitching as my flicker of arousal ignited into a blaze.

Declan was solid against my back, his chest hair tickling my skin, and teasing breaths drifted across the nape of my neck and shoulders.

I shivered, working my dick harder, biting my bottom lip to keep in the sounds of pleasure. Tension built to the breaking point, and just as I was on the verge of coming, Declan stirred.

“Cash, what are…”

I shuddered with orgasm, coming into my hand with a small whimper I couldn’t suppress.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” I rasped as Declan levered up to look at the mess I’d made of myself. “I’m ridiculously horny for you right now.”

He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, lips lingering just enough to send another jolt through me. “Seeing your pleasure is not a bad way to wake up.” He stroked a hand down my arm, then back up, and nuzzled in against me. “This is my morning delight right here.”

I chuckled. “I like this part too.”

“Good.”

He continued to caress me, bringing his fingers up to comb through my hair and massage my scalp. I sighed and relaxed back against him, practically purring. With all this attention, my jerk-off session didn’t feel like a solo act anymore.

I turned my face, seeking a kiss, and Declan delivered, though he kept it brief. “Need to brush my teeth.”

“Me too. Kiss me anyway.”

He kissed me again, indulging my neediness with sweet, clinging lips. I was straining my damn neck, but I didn’t care. I’d twist myself up for this man anytime.

My phone rang, the sound startling us apart. I turned toward the table on my side of the bed, where I’d plugged in my phone last night after my shower. I reached out with my right hand, saw it was still a mess of cum and switched to my left.

Gray’s name was on the screen or I might not have answered at all. He was due to start work on The Roost early. We were refinishing the floors today, the final step in the remodel Declan had approved. I still wanted to knock out a wall between the kitchen and living space—but Gray had said that wasn’t really necessary to bring the building up to amazing rental standards, and besides, we had more projects to do.

Declan had lined up plumbers to take care of the problem in the Tree Hut, but there were still roofing issues on the main house, water damage in two rooms, and of course—our biggest undertaking, building a greenhouse on the grounds.

“Hey, Gray. I overslept but?—”

“We’ve got a problem,” he cut across me. “I need you at The Roost ASAP.”

My stomach flipped. “What kind of problem?”

“Someone broke in. It’s a mess, but well…It’s probably best if you see for yourself.” He hesitated. “I’ll let you decide how to break the news to Declan.”

“Too late,” I said wryly as Declan leaned over me, brow furrowed in concern. “He just heard you.”

There was a pause, then a gruff, “Damn, man. Sorry to disrupt your morning.”

“That’s all right,” Declan said from behind me. “We’ll be right over.”

We rolled out of bed, and I took the quickest shower ever—a rinse and dash to get rid of the cum. I dried and dressed so quickly my clothes stuck to me.

Declan wore navy blue shorts and a white polo, looking put together even when we rushed. By comparison, I was a slob in a wrinkled and stained T-shirt out of a duffel full of wrinkled shirts. My hair probably stuck up every which way, but fuck it.

We cut through the B&B. It was early for breakfast, still, though Declan had an automatic coffee pot that was doing the good work. Mr. Jackson sat at the table, nursing a mugful.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” I said as Declan passed by, face tense. “Got a problem at another building. We’ll be back.”

Mr. Jackson rubbed a hand over his dark beard. “That’s a shame. Hope it works out.”

I had to jog to catch up with Declan. He might not be the most social guy, but he didn’t usually ignore his guests, so I knew how worried he must be. “Don’t panic. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”

His shoulders lowered a fraction. “You can’t promise that.”

“I sure as hell can,” I said, slinging an arm around his shoulders and slowing him from his fast walk. “We’ve transformed that place into a gorgeous lake cabin, haven’t we?”

His lips tipped up in the tiniest hint of a smile. “You’ve done amazing work.”

“Okay, then. We’ve got your back.”

And it was a good thing too, because as we crested the hill to the front of The Roost, the first thing I saw was the massive front window. Broken. Shards of glass littered the ground beneath it.

Declan swore. “Those are custom windows. Goddamn it!”

I winced. I’d talked a good game on the way over here, and I was sure Gray and I could replace that window. But paying for it? That was Declan’s problem. “You have insurance, right?”

“Some, but…” He cringed. “I dropped to the minimum coverage on the outbuildings because I wasn’t actively using them. I don’t know if it’ll cover vandalism.”

“Shit.”

Gray opened the front door, which had taken its own beating, the wood splintered and ragged near the lock. Must have been kicked in. On these older properties, charm came before security, so it wasn’t reinforced. Breaking it hadn’t been necessary, considering the shattered window, so I assumed the vandals did it for pleasure rather than access.

“Hey, guys,” Gray said, lips pressed into a tight line. “There’s more inside. The assholes made a mess, but it could be worse.”

“If it was worse, I’d probably keel over from a damn heart attack,” Declan said. “I’m supposed to be improving the B&B for when I sell it, not passing it on in even worse condition.”

“Well, hey,” I said, desperate to find a silver lining for him, “unless they gutted the kitchen, you’re still in better shape than you started.”

Declan gave me a flat look. “You’re a glass-half-full kind of guy, aren’t you?”

I smiled gamely. “You already knew that about me, didn’t you?”

He shook his head, but again, a small smile tugged at his lips, and his tension eased a notch. Win .

Gray led us inside, and it sure as shit wasn’t pretty.

Cream-colored paint streaked across the wooden floor, paint cans tipped on their sides. We hadn’t yet refinished the floors, so I wasn’t sure if that could be sanded away or we’d have to find another solution.

The bastards had spray-painted a big X on two of the walls and damaged the sheetrock on a third. There was half an X painted on the kitchen wall as well—the one I’d originally wanted to knock out between the two rooms.

Declan was mourning the broken light fixtures over the counter, but I was stuck on that half an X.

“Why only half an X?” I mused. “There’s room for the whole X here.”

Gray nodded. “Yeah, my guess is something scared them off. Maybe someone came in late last night?”

“We were back relatively early,” I said. “The Jacksons were already in for the night.”

Declan snapped his fingers. “I’ve got a couple in their twenties. They hit the party scene over in Swallow Beach. They probably came home between two and three in the morning.”

“Maybe the vandals saw their headlights and cut out then,” I said. “If they came by boat, they’d have an easy getaway with the docks behind the property.”

“It’s usually just bored kids,” Declan said. “They could have taken off on foot.”

“Wait, didn’t you say you put up a camera to discourage them?”

“Obviously didn’t deter them,” he grumbled.

“No, but?—”

“Where’s the camera?” Gray asked.

We all rushed back to the front entrance, where Declan had kept the little Google camera set up. We found the smashed remains of it a few feet away.

“There goes that idea,” Gray said.

“Doesn’t it stream somewhere, though?” I asked. “Would you have footage in the cloud?”

Declan shook his head. “I get alerts to my phone and none came in. The battery must have died, or else they managed to turn it off or trash it without setting off an alert.”

“Damn. That doesn’t give you much to go on with the sheriff,” I said.

“No,” Declan agreed. “There’s really nothing they can do. I’ll make a report, but if the insurance won’t cover it, I’ll have to eat the costs.”

“I’ll call in at the resort so I can help Gray clean up. I’ll get Kat over here too. She’s got too much time on her hands with that boy hanging around.”

Declan shook his head. “I can’t ask you to miss work. This is my problem.”

“ Our problem,” I said, moving over to kiss his cheek. “And right now, you’ve got a B&B to run. Breakfast won’t make itself.”

Declan groaned. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

“Go deal with breakfast, call the police, call your insurance,” I said. “We’ll get photos of everything and send them to you, okay? Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

“Thank you, love. You’re really the best.”

I smiled teasingly. “Even when I insist on seeing the glass half full?”

His lips quirked. “I suppose I can tolerate it.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Declan headed back toward the main house. Behind me, Gray swore and kicked a rock. The rock was thick and solid, mired in the ground, so it didn’t move. Gray swore louder, hopping on his other foot, and grabbing for his injured toe.

I shot him a look. “Really, man?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled as he limped toward the porch and sat down hard. “It’s been a shitty day.”

I aimed my phone at the broken window and clicked my camera app open. “Vandalism isn’t a fun wake-up call.”

Kissing Declan while he pet me like a cat? That had been much, much better.

“It’s not just that,” Gray said, surprising me.

I took the photo, then joined him on the porch. “What’s up?”

He shook his head. “Just…family shit.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I know something about that. Hit me with it.”

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “You don’t need to hear this today. We’ve got enough to deal with.”

“It’s bothering you, and honestly, today is gonna be shitty enough without this storm cloud over your head. So spit it out.”

Gray tugged a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. “Got this letter from my foster brother.”

“Foster?” I said in surprise.

“Yeah, my parents died when I was a kid. I bounced from one place to another, but I was lucky to land in a house when I was eight and pretty much stay put.”

“So you had a brother there.”

“Three brothers, actually,” he said with a rueful smile. “We were a real handful, but my foster mom was great.” His smile faded. “She died when I was seventeen. Everything kinda fell apart without her there as the glue, you know?”

“I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “Anyway, turns out the old man finally croaked too.”

I could tell by his tone he didn’t have the same fondness for his foster dad.

“Holden is trying to save the business Dad ran into the ground. Wants me to come back.”

“Do you want to go back?”

A series of emotions too complex for me to read crossed Gray’s face. “That’s the million-dollar question,” he said quietly. “Part of me never wants to see Riverton again. The other part?” He shrugged. “Feels like I have unfinished business, you know? My brothers—” His voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat before continuing. “My brothers never knew why I left. I didn’t want to drag them into the conflict with our dad.”

“Why did you leave?”

He shot me a tight smile. “I liked dick too much for his liking.”

“Ah. Damn.”

“He found out, pitched a fit, said I couldn’t be that way under his roof, so I took my gay ass and found another roof.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“Water under the bridge.” He returned the letter to his pocket, but not before I saw it’d been folded and refolded about a dozen times. He was going to wear a hole through that paper soon.

“Not entirely. You wouldn’t be angsting over that letter if it was all behind you.”

“Guess not.” He pushed to his feet with a groan. “But moping about it won’t fix this cabin.”

“True that.” I nudged him. “But maybe deciding to visit home would take a load off you, huh? You don’t have to stay forever. Just put your ghosts to rest.”

“Maybe.” He reached for the door. “Come on, let’s get started. This mess won’t clean itself.”

“No, it won’t.” I lifted my phone and took a photo of the battered door, then followed him inside to capture the rest. My heart was heavy as I documented the damage.

Declan had only pursued this renovation because I’d convinced him to do it. He’d wanted to sell clean and simple to those developers. Now, he’d sunk money into supplies and labor expenses to Gray and me. We were saving him by not hiring a formal contractor, but all this mess would add to the tab.

At what point was I causing him more trouble than it was worth?