“Hm,” Priest said. “Makes sense. I suppose we can tackle that once all the renovations are completed. I’ll start looking into local woodworkers.”
“Joker might be able to help out,” Brennan said.
The porch suddenly fell silent. All eyes turned to me, and my skin crawled under the sudden influx of eyes. I liked being the center of attention, but not like this. Not when I felt itchy and exposed. Fucking Brennan. Why’d he have to bring it up? The whittling was a private hobby, not something I showed off to the club. I’d only told Brennan about it because being so close to him, alone in the bathroom, had made me stupid.
“Nah, no way,” I muttered.
“What do you mean, Brennan?” Blade asked. He narrowed his eyes curiously at me. “Joker?”
Brennan nodded at the half-finished carving I was fiddling with. “Come on, Joker, you haven’t shown them that?”
“Shown us what?” Heath asked.
I clenched the carving a little tighter, but that only made everyone’s gaze fall to it. There was no way to get out of this now—Brennan wasn’t going to back off, that much was clear from the way he was smirking at me. And I wasn’t going to let him win this little standoff, even if it made me uncomfortable.
I tossed the carving to Blade. He caught it easily and turned it over in his hands, examining it while I crossed my arms over my chest and sneered. I didn’t care what he thought about it. At least, that’s what I told myself, trying to ignore the nerves curling in my belly.
“You carved this?” Blade asked as he examined the wood.
“Well, yeah,” I said. “So what?”
“It’s good,” Blade said, sounding a little impressed and surprised. “Really good. I didn’t know you could do this.”
A strange mix of irritation and self-satisfaction replaced the nerves I felt—I was pleased he thought it was good, but at the same time, I was annoyed it surprised him.
“Why do you sound so shocked?” I asked with an edge of frustration in my voice. “I’m good for more than just the grunt work I do around here.”
It was true, I mostly did manual labor around Ankhor Works and Ballast, but I’d also never asked for more responsibility, out of fear that Blade or Priest would ask me to do something I wasn’t capable of doing. But Blade didn’t need to know that.
Blade blinked at my sudden outburst but didn’t argue. Instead, he just looked a little thoughtful as he peered at me.
“Hey, Joker,” Maverick said. He took the carving from Blade’s hands and ran his thumb over the emerging shape of the dog. “All the little wooden toys you’ve given Gracie… you made those?”
Ever since Grace had joined the Hell’s Ankhor family, I’d been giving her little carvings I’d done—carefully sanded to glassy-smooth, of course. Little dogs, blocks, people, whatever caught my attention. They weren’t anything fancy, but I’d made her a lot. It made me happy to see her playing with them, spread out on the floor of the clubhouse or the backyard. And I’d never told Maverick and Jonah I made them, I just kept letting them appear. They both knew I was the source, but apparently they’d thought I was buying them.
“Yeah,” I said with a shrug. “It’s nothing.”
“That’s not nothing,” Maverick said. “I didn’t realize you were making them. That’s…” His expression softened, then he cleared his throat. “Thank you, Joker.”
I caught Brennan’s eye. His expression was open and almost—shocked. He glanced at the carving in Maverick’s hands, then met my eyes again with a shy smile. I felt my cheeks heat and quickly looked at my feet. I didn’t know what I expected from his reaction, but seeing his careful interest made something in my chest clench. I didn’t know if it was embarrassment, or maybe something closer to pleasure.
Everyone else nodded in agreement as they passed the carving around, admiring it. I flushed a little, staring at my feet. The warmth that bloomed in me was a little unfamiliar, but not bad, and I bit back my immediate instinct to brush it off with a joke or a snide comment. Because even though it was a little awkward, I did want them to realize I could do more than mop floors and fix engines. Even if there were limits to what I was willing to admit.
“Well, that’s it, then,” Blade said with a definitive nod. “You should work with Brennan on the sign.”
The warmth dissipated like steam as the familiar old anxiety came back. “What?”
“You clearly have the skills,” Blade said. “And Brennan’s a professional, if he thinks you can do it, you can.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “It’ll look great. And it’ll be even better if we can say a club member made the sign. You’ll do us proud.”
It was clear from Blade’s excited grin that there was no way I was getting out of this assignment without a fight. Honestly, I didn’t want to back out. I was nervous, sure, but… maybe I could do this. Blade was giving me a chance here, a real chance, to step up in the club and prove I still fit in. That I still deserved to be a member—an appreciated member—even as the club expanded and settled down. There was more to me than just my mouth and my muscle. I wanted to prove that. But this was unexpected. And a lot of pressure.
Because I did want to do the club proud. If I let them down with this project, I didn’t know how I’d recover from it. It’d just be proof that I really didn’t fit in anymore.
And on top of all that, this meant I’d be spending a lot more time with Brennan. Our eyes met across the porch, and he raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
“All right,” I said, holding Brennan’s gaze like a challenge. I wasn’t sure what it’d be like, spending more time with him, but I wasn’t going to let him know he’d gotten under my skin, that much was for sure. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”
“Excellent,” Priest said. He and Blade exchanged an impressed look.
I was locked in now. And from the interest look in Brennan’s eyes, he might’ve been as surprised—and unsure—as I was.
4
Brennan
“All right,” Dawson said as he peered at the papers spread across the big communal table. “If the estimates are right, we’re probably looking at a year of dedicated work if we get the cabins, too.”
I leaned back a little in the chair and took a sip of my coffee. Dawson and I were seated across from each other at Stella’s, taking up the far end of the communal table on a cool Saturday morning. It was a bustling morning, with Mary working the front counter, and Tru, Dante, and Logan were in the kitchen.
“At least,” I agreed.
I was thrilled with the way Stella’s had turned out. It hadn’t been an easy job, and I’d put in a lot of extra hours with Dante making sure it was exactly the kind of space he wanted—he deserved it, after going through such an unexpected loss. And it’d really paid off. First, there was the contract to gut and rebuild Beau’s house—I’d put just as much work into that as I did Stella’s—and now, the Hell’s Ankhor Crew guys had hired me to reno their entire property.