Owen rolled his eyes. “I can’t help being perfect, you know. It’s a curse as well as a gift.”
Graham punched his brother in the arm, putting a little heat behind it to make sure Owen kept on his toes. Graham might be nearing forty, but he wasn’t about to grow up fully anytime soon. Plus, Owen and Murphy were closer to thirty than he was, and he needed to make sure his baby brothers knew who was actually the boss in this company and family.
Owen reached out to punch him back, and Graham ducked, running into Murphy, who pushed him into Owen’s shoulder. Graham laughed then, a deep chuckle that surprised him. He hadn’t thought he’d laugh this month, and damn if he didn’t respect his brothers that much more for keeping him in the now, rather than always in the past.
As they neared the other entrance, he let out an oath. If anything, the cracking paint and wallpaper, as well as the molding beams, looked even worse than before. If they hadn’t already done a full sweep of the place to make sure it was safe to even stand under the damn roof, he wouldn’t even be inside. This was going to be one hell of a job, and if he’d been in any other mood, and if it had been any other place without the strings that came with it, he might have been more excited about the prospects of being part of the restoration.
The place had good bones, he had to give it that, but that was about it. And, normally, while good bones were the reason he did this job and loved it—at least, usually—sometimes, he wanted to kick someone for letting a place get to this. Yeah, he’d be out of a job in that case, but to see something that had once been so grand and intricate end up the way this place was, hurt.
Buildings needed care, and most of the time, people sucked and didn’t do it.
“You’d think with a family with this kind of money, they’d take care of their shit a little better,” Graham grumbled.
“Good to know what kind of attitude you’ll have on the job,” a sultry voice said from behind him.
Owen mumbled a curse while Murphy’s eyes widened. Graham tightened his jaw. Great. The little heiress was finally here, and now he had to deal with whatever shit she’d brought with her.
He turned on his heel, rolling his shoulders back as he did. The shock to his system at the first look of her was a jolt.
Shit, were heiresses supposed to look that good in a business skirt?
Of course, they are, he thought to himself. They spent all their money on their clothes and whatever they needed to look the way they did, rather than taking care of the important things in their possession like the home they’d once lived in. God forbid this woman get her hands dirty to clean up the mess that the people residing here had left.
Her long brown hair had streaks of lighter colors in it, like blonde and chestnut, though she’d pulled it back in a tight bun at the base of her neck so he couldn’t see how long it was.
Her eyes were large, but not too big for her face, and had this honey brown hue to them that looked as if they might change color in different lighting. Her cheekbones were prominent, but not in the malnourished way that the one chick who’d hit on him at the last site had had. She wore a light brown business jacket with silver buttons over a cream shirt and a very tight skirt that matched the jacket.
If he weren’t already in a pisser of a mood, he might have wanted to see how far that skirt would slide up her legs as he fucked her. Especially with those tall heels she wore that had the little straps at the ankles to keep them in place.
And that was a train of thought he needed to end right now. He didn’t know this woman, and while his groin might have one idea, his brain needed to focus on the fact that someone had neglected this house for years. Yeah, it might not exactly be her fault, but she was here, and he needed someone to blame.
It made him an asshole, but frankly, he didn’t have enough coffee in his system to not be one. And add in the fact that this month was one he’d rather not think about…
She was lucky he didn’t walk right out and say “fuck it” to the whole project.
Owen cleared his throat next to him, and Graham held back a groan. That was why he didn’t have the option of leaving, and why he probably shouldn’t be a dick when it came to this woman.
But something about her rubbed him the wrong way, and apparently, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
“If you don’t like my attitude, you can walk, princess.” Owen and Murphy each groaned under their breath. Hell, why was he acting like he was a toddler who’d stubbed his toe? He needed to get a freaking grip.