Maddox gritted his teeth in frustration. He filled his lungs, ready to shatter the windows with his voice if he had to—but the scent of lemon and cedar oil stopped him.
He took another look around the cabin. Hope hadn't just cleaned his boots. She'd wiped down every shelf in every cupboard, refolded his shirts and stacked them by color, rearranged his books, organized the screws and nails in little jars, and polished all of his tools.
All the little things that he'd always meant to get around to. All the details he'd missed because there was something more important to take care of.
Annoyingly, Maddox felt his frustration began to dissipate.
Hope brought out plenty of familiar emotions. Lust, anger, vigilance—those were feelings Maddox was accustomed to. He knew how to react to them, how to let them run their course.
But this strange warmth he felt in the pit of his belly right now…Maddox simply had no idea what the fuck to do with it.
He was stuck, standing in the middle of his own house feeling like a goddamn idiot, with no idea what to do next.
Maybe that was why he found himself saying words that had never passed his lips before.
"Thank you."
Hope went still, and Maddox held his breath as he waited to see what she would do next. Slowly, she stood up and faced him, clearly caught off guard.
"You're welcome," she said.
For a moment, their brief exchange hung in the air between them. Didn't say much for their prospects, Maddox thought, that neither of them could come up with more than a couple words.
But then her scent of annoyance drifted away, replaced by respect—a scent that Maddox liked a hell of a lot more.
"I did it as much for me as you," Hope admitted. "As long as I have to be stuck in a one-room shack, I might as well make it as nice as I can."
Maddox bristled at her words. He'd never given a thought to what anyone else might think of his cabin. Why would he? After all, he was the only one who had to live in it.
But that wasn't true anymore. Hope lived here now, and this house was as much hers as it was his.
"You…don't like the place?"
"No." Hope dusted her hands off on her pants. "I mean, it's fine. It's strong and very well built, but…"
Maddox pressed his lips together. He didn't like the way she trailed off. "But what?"
Hope shrugged. "It's just a too rustic." She pointed to a shelf that used to hold his fly tying materials. Now there were three glass jars in different shapes and sizes, each one filled with wildflowers. "See, it's the little things that make a big difference."
Mystified, Maddox searched her face for clues. What things? What was the difference, other than that he had no idea where his fly stuff was now?
She held his gaze with her hands on her hips, her hair hanging in curly waves around her shoulders. Her shirt clung to the curves of her body, revealing the perfect swells of her breasts.
Breasts he'd buried his face in last night…something he wanted to do again. Like right now.
Maddox shifted his feet and tried to re-focus on the conversation. "You want more things?"
"I wouldn't say no to a rug for the floor, or some curtains," she said. "But what I really want is a bathroom."
"There's one right outside."
Apparently, that wasn't the right answer. "How long have you lived here?" she asked.
"Twelve years."
"And in all that time you've never once thought, You know what would be nice? Not having to go outside to pee?"
Honestly, the thought had never entered his mind. "No."
It had clearly entered Hope's, though, because she crossed her arms and shot him her coldest look yet. "Well, I'm not going to make do without indoor plumbing. I don't care if I have to hire the contractor myself."
"What the fuck is a contractor?"
"It's someone you hire to build a house."
Maddox shook his head. More crazy beta shit.
"Why would I hire someone for a job I can do myself?"
"Because it's been twelve years, and you never did it," Hope said, cradling her forehead in her palm. "Okay, let me try this another way. Do all the other houses in the Boundarylands look like this one?"
No, of course not. Maddox hadn't spent a lot of time on other alphas' property, but he'd seen a few. Samson had a decent-sized place. It wasn't a palace by any means, but it was larger than Maddox's. Troy fixed trucks, so he put in a garage a few years back, and he'd heard Kian had built a massive addition for his pups.
But what the hell did any of that matter?
He didn't like the way this conversation was going. Cleaning and organizing his things was one thing, but asking him to build an addition on the house was another. If he agreed to that, soon he'd find himself in Randall's shoes—living in a pointlessly sprawling monstrosity, catering to his omega's whims, and following her orders.
Fuck that.
"Things are fine the way they are," he said and stomped back outside.
* * *
The hell they were!
Hope felt her blood start to heat. Here she'd been thinking they'd turned a corner when Maddox had thanked her —actually thanked her—for working on the place.
She should have known better. Not five minutes later, Maddox was back to dismissing her outright.
Fine.
Hope knew she couldn't change his mind. He was too pig-headed. And there was absolutely no way that she could force him to do a damn thing…but that didn't mean she was powerless.
Gritting her teeth, she snatched one of his flannel shirts off the bed and pulled it over her dress like a jacket. Then she headed for the door.
She hadn't gone two steps before he stopped her, wrapping his hand around her upper arm and holding her in place.
"Where the hell do you think you're going now?" he asked.
She met his gaze without flinching. "Down to that bar you were
