He came into the kitchen wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I glanced down at the clothes I had on from yesterday, and he smirked, lifting an eyebrow. I ignored him, making another pot of coffee. He reached into the freezer and pulled out the bag of scones I had noticed earlier and popped a couple into the old toaster.
“You have to watch this one,” he said. “One second, it’s fine. The next, your bread is on fire. These scones are too delicious to waste.”
“My aunt Emmy makes awesome scones. Where did you get yours?”
He frowned. “From her. They were in the massive care package the ladies brought with them.”
I gaped at him. “What? What ladies?”
He frowned and sat across from me, stacking up some of the files to make room for the plate he was carrying. “Your mother and aunts. Your grandmother too, I think?”
“When were they here?”
He looked startled. “You didn’t know? They showed up Monday after I got home.” He snorted. “Came in, decided I needed food and company, so they made coffee and stayed. They never told you?”
I shook my head. “I saw my mom on Wednesday, but she never mentioned it.”
“Huh. I thought she’d tell you. How come you only saw her Wednesday—you all live in some sort of commune, don’t you?”
I laughed at his description. “BAM owns all the land over there, yes. Many of us live there. Some have a place they crash on occasion. Others use it as a holiday spot. But it’s not a commune.” I paused. “Well, I suppose it is in many ways. But we all live our lives. We’re not in one another’s back pockets. We have family brunches once a month, and we are pretty tight, but we go our own way most of the time. I often only see my parents on Sundays at the Hub.”
“The Hub?”
“It’s like a rec center. There are too many of us to gather in anyone’s house. There’s a big kitchen and a massive living area. Downstairs, we have games and a gym. There’s a pool and a little library. Sundays, the parents usually gather for coffee. I join them once I wake up.” I paused and sipped my coffee. “I like to sleep in on Sundays. It’s sort of the one day I keep to myself.”
“What do you do once you get up?”
I sighed. “Nothing. That’s the best part. I’m so busy all week, I never slow down. Sundays, I have a long bath, take walks, paint my toenails. Read. Nap. I don’t have to deal with paperwork, people telling me why I’m wrong, arguing with foremen or crews.” I smiled at him. “It’s an Ava day.”
“What about Saturdays?”
“I usually do stuff around the house, laundry, some grocery shopping, make a few meals so when I get home at night during the week, I’m not trying to figure out what to cook.”
He looked surprised by my words. “What?” I asked. “Did you think I lived in the lap of luxury and had people do all that for me?”
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
I shook my head. “My parents didn’t bring us up that way. We were taught we had to work hard to get the rewards. We all had part-time jobs growing up. I waitressed at the diner you had breakfast in the other day. Ronan washed dishes there and was a busboy. Liam worked at the local garden center all through high school. Paul and Jeremy both worked for the nearby grocery store, stocking shelves and being cashiers. When they got older, they became bartenders. We all had to learn the value of money.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. When he spoke, I was surprised by his words. “I owe you an apology, Ava. I assumed you were a rich kid and spoiled. I should have known better now that we’re, ah—” I was shocked to see dull color saturate his cheeks “—better acquainted.”
I snorted with laughter. “Is that what we’re calling it? Better acquainted?”
“For lack of another word. I have no idea what to call—” he waved his finger between us “—this.”
I shrugged. “Do we have to name it?”
He studied me. “Most women want that.”
“Hunter, I’m not interested in a long-term relationship. You don’t have to be worried about that. I’m not planning on moving in and setting up house with you just because we’ve had sex.”
He finished the last scone, pushing away his plate. “Is that just with me, or in general?”
I laughed lightly, not wanting to get into it. “With anyone. I tried it and discovered it wasn’t for me.”
He stroked his chin, his long fingers brushing the gray strands slowly. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but why? You seem like the sort of girl who would want to settle down and have a family.”
“Well, looks can be deceiving,” I said, standing, not wanting to discuss it. Not wanting to remember the pain of that voice telling me how much he hated the person I was. How difficult I was to handle.
“You’re just too much, Ava. You’re always too much. I can’t deal with it. We’re over.”
Hunter caught my wrist as I went past him. “Hey, I’m sorry. Whatever I just said that upset you, I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, taking his empty plate. “It’s fine.”
I carried the plates to the sink and returned to my chair. I tapped the pile of plans and paperwork. “You have a lot going on here. Lots of ideas.”
He nodded. “I plan on starting with the front porch next week—that was approved, and I got a great deal on the Trex I needed. That’s the imitation lumber,” he explained, then chuckled. “I guess you knew that.”
“Yes. It’s great. Easy to maintain and no splinters.”
He nodded. “Someone returned an entire order while I was at the building center. They marked it down for quick sale. I grabbed it. I can use it, and what’s left, I’ll use elsewhere.”
“Good plan. What’s next?”
He hesitated, then spoke. “I need to get architectural plans drawn up for the extension and get them approved. A deck drawing, I can handle. I need proper specs for the extension.”
I bit my lip to stop myself from telling him Ronan could whip him up a set of drawings. I had a feeling he wouldn’t like that. “Can I see your plans?”
I saw him tense, his shoulders going back and his hands tightening.
“Hunter, just relax. You’re jumping to conclusions. You remind me of your grandfather.”
He snorted. “Whatever.”
“I’m just asking as a friend. What do you think I’m going to do with them? Copy and sell them on the black market?”
“Tell your family,” he growled in admission.
Suddenly, I was angry. “First off, if you’d been paying attention, you would know my family doesn’t care what you do with this place—they’re just trying to be good neighbors. The same way they did with your grandfather. Second, I don’t discuss my private life with them because it is exactly that to me—private. And third, you’re a presumptive asshole who thinks far too much. This isn’t mission impossible, buddy. It’s a damn house extension. No one is going to meet me at midnight and tell me the moon is rising on the Seine despite the clouds, so I tell them what you’re planning.”