He blinks at me and then lets out a laugh. “Right. Sure, Jeter.”
But I’m not laughing. In fact, I’m getting more fucking furious by the second. Crux realizes that I’m not joking, and his face falls as Echo walks over. My attention briefly moves over his abs and the way his shadows are playing around his pecs, but I ignore my irritated libido and cross my arms in front of me, dismissing how achy my breasts feel.
“Do you like it?” Echo asks with a smirk, though it’s clear that he means his shirtless self as much as the kitchen.
“You had no right.”
Echo rears back, like my words just got into his face and screamed fight me, bitch. “What are you talking about?”
I push past them and then turn around in a full circle, gesturing around the kitchen. “This! All of this! You had no right to just swoop in and renovate my kitchen.”
Crux frowns. “It was a wreck.”
“Yeah, but it was my wreck,” I argue, reaching up to frustratedly run my fingers through my hair. “You can’t just redo someone’s kitchen without even asking them. What if I didn’t like it?”
Echo cocks his head, and his shadows swirl quicker, like they’re picking up on my mood. He digs into his pocket and pulls out my phone that he somehow once again has in his possession. “We know you like it. We went through your Pinterest last night. In fact, every single thing in this room is exactly what you had on your ‘Dream Kitchen’ board,” he says with quote fingers.
“That’s not the point,” I snap, inwardly seething.
“Then what is the point?” Crux asks, his blond brows pulled together in confusion.
“Yeah, why are you being fucking difficult? We did this to be nice,” Echo cuts in.
Anger heats my whole face, and I feel it spread up to my eyes. “I didn’t ask you to be nice. This is my house. The house my parents bought and wanted to fix up to be their retirement dream home. Everything in here that wasn’t original was updated by my dad or by me. You can’t just come in here and do this.” My voice cracks, my vision blurs, and I feel a tear streak down my cheek. Fuck, why do I always have to cry when I’m pissed? Why can’t I get eye lasers or produce firebolts instead? Nope, I have to settle for angry tears instead.
Even though I quickly dash them away, both guys stiffen, and I hear Echo curse under his breath. “Fuck. Don’t cry, Jeter,” Crux says as he comes forward like someone would approach a rabid raccoon.
Seeing him walk over so carefully along with the use of the horrible nickname makes me look over at him. “I had to do every renovation in this house. Me,” I stress, patting a hand against my chest with a strong thump. “We didn’t have much, but my parents scraped to buy this house, and they were so proud…” Another tear slips down. “It was supposed to be my dad that fixed this place up, but now it’s left to me, and I—” My words cut out as my throat closes, a rough rock of emotion blocking my airway.
“And you wanted to do it yourself,” Echo finishes for me. I nod sharply and turn away, bracing my hands on the brand new countertop, the color reminding me of the demon Flint’s skin.
Part of me knows that I’m being irrational. It’s amazing that they did all this while I slept, and I know they worked hard and fast on it because they wanted to do something nice. But the shock of seeing a chunk of my dad’s to-do list knocked out in one fell swoop, when I didn’t even get to help, guts me.
“I know I’m not good at the DIY stuff,” I say quietly, breathing steadily through my nose to rein in my emotions. “But it makes me feel closer to him.”
I feel someone come up behind me, and then I’m gently turned around, and Crux is holding me against his chest. “Sorry, Delta. We didn’t know. Do you want us to take it all down?”
I know he’s completely serious as he asks me that. If I tell them to, they will. They’d rip everything right back out, and let me wallow in my overwhelming renovation repairs. My heart squeezes knowing that they’d undo all their hard work without even batting an eye. I release a deep sigh and try to let my irrational anger go. Maybe this is a sign.
Maybe it’s time for me to release my stranglehold on my parents’ dream and figure out some dreams of my own. I know in my heart that they wouldn’t care. They’re not here anymore, and it’s not like completing this house is going to bring them back.
I look up into Crux’s green eyes. The genuine concern I see staring back at me cools my irrational anger. I shake my head. “No, but thank you. Just...maybe no more surprise HGTV shit, okay?”
Crux lets me pull back, and I try to take in the new kitchen through far more reasonable lenses. He keeps one hand on my back, where he rubs soft, comforting strokes down my spine. I’m all too aware of his proximity, and when Echo comes to stand beside us, his chest touching my arm, all of my sexual frustration comes roaring back, right alongside that delicious dream that left me high and dry.
“What’s wrong with her?” Jerif gruffly asks as he pops into the room out of nowhere. I jump, adrenaline kicking my heart into overdrive at his sudden appearance. Less than a heartbeat later, Iceman is standing next to him too.
“She’s not big on surprises,” Crux replies, and Jerif grunts and runs his fingers through his flame flickering hair.
“Told you she wouldn’t like it,” he grumps, looking around at all the work Crux and Echo did.
My eyebrows lift. I’m surprised by that statement. It makes Jerif seem observant
