“I’mpositive. We’re working together, right?” He clapped Evander just between the shoulder blades, rocking his whole body and making the room spin. “I trust your judgment. You’ve always been good at your job.”
Which removed theeasyway out of it. Ev stood up a little taller, then plastered on his best smile and nodded to Jake. “I guess I could at least provide some input. You head out. I need to visit the little boy’s room real quick, then I’ll be there.”
Jake nodded and strode out.
Ozzy sighed. “I’m glad we’re going to have some eyes in there. I would do it, but we’re getting some big shipments in for the garden beds. Kind of an all hands situation.”
“Right. I buy that.” Evander flipped him the bird. “I’m going to get you back.”
“For what? You could have said no.” Ozzy waved his hands in front of him, shooing Evander. “Scoot. Maybe drink some water. You look a little green around the gills.”
He chuckled as he slipped around Evander and headed out the door.
Chapter nineteen
Ozzy
The first little bit,any time he got the chance, Ozzy would head around to the woodworking tent they had set up and spy on Evander, just to get a look at what he’d managed to arrange. He knew Ev wouldn’t be able to take the hit to his ego and admit that he got too drunk and just needed a break to deal with his shit.
By the time the sun was heading down, the amusement had faded and—although he would never admit it if asked—Ozzy was starting to feel a little bad about his decision. Ozzy didn’t get hungover very often—and the night before hadn’t really impacted him much once he got his first cup of coffee down—but he certainlyhadsuffered more than a little after a night of excess. He just hid it better than the average person. The thought of dealing with that and all those loud power tools, in the heat…maybe he was feeling more than alittlebad.
When they were wrapping up—the camera crew had packed everything away and the mic packs had already been taken to be recharged—Ozzy headed into the house and flagged down Melanie. “Hey. Could I bug you for something?”
She nodded, wiping her hands off on a tea towel. “What can I help with? I’d love an excuse to order in instead of cook.”
Of course she would. He’d done a decent enough job of just avoiding them and all their rich tendencies, except when he was putting Jack to work, but that sort of plan sounded entirely too much like his mother. If his mother was a bit kinder and wouldn’t have seen being asked to do something as a horrific imposition.
“I don’t know if you’d have anything on hand, but I figure I’ll give it a try. Can’t get you out of cooking, unfortunately. Just need a sports drink. Something with electrolytes.”
“Oh, of course. Always keep some on hand for hot days, marching band practice, for the gardeners out front. Just a nice thing to make sure we have.” She trundled past him toward the fridge and flung open the double doors. “Flavor preference?”
He looked inside and almost whistled. He wasn’t much for theattitudesof the perpetually wealthy, but he couldn’t help but love the aesthetic. If any refrigerator was ever going to be described as aesthetically pleasing, it was this one. The fridge was huge, for starters, and entirely too neat, with two pitchers of fruit water tucked in there, cans of soda, lots of pickles and preserves that looked way too spendy for Ozzy to bother buying, and clean, matching containers of leftovers. None of them even had that red tomato sauce stain, which was practically a canonizable miracle.
Melanie pointed to the collection of brightly colored bottles. It wasn’t a brand he recognized, but judging by everything else, they were probably the world’s most expensive sports drink.
Ozzy reached out and grabbed a pink one. “Dragonfruit and pineapple. Sounds nice. Thanks.”
She nodded and closed the doors. “I can make sure we have some more on hand for the crew if you need. Just let me know.”
His first instinct was to take her up on the offer, but the answer stuck in his throat. “We’re okay. We can pick some up if it turns out this one’s a hit.”
Melanie opened her mouth a second, then closed it and shrugged. “Let me know if I can help out with anything.”
Ozzy nodded, lifting up the pink drink in a wave as he walked back out. He could do all this just fine on his own. They all could.
The yard was quieting down, tools packed away, lights turned off, and sprinklers set to make sure the sod got plenty of water. Easier to do it overnight than have them running with everyone out there. It would need a full week of heavy watering to make sure the grass took proper root. Melanie and Jack seemed to have been turning it off on time every night to make sure the yard didn’t flood.
Evander stumbled around the corner of the house, still wearing his sunglasses and barely picking up his feet. And not wearing a shirt. Ozzy really noticed that and paused, taking in the way the light played across his tawny skin, how the sweat sparkled on his light smattering of chest hair, how the V-lines cut so harshly downward beneath the white waistband of his underwear, just peeking up over the top of his jeans.
Then he took a bottle of water and poured it over himself, slicking his hair down to the top of his head. It trickled along his torso, darkened his pants and hugged them tighter against the curve of his ass, his thighs…his bulge.
Before Ozzy lost himself in a haze of hormones, he strode over. Evander had wiped his face and hair with the shirt, wetting it down, so as he slid it back on, it did almost nothing to hide his musculature.
Ozzy came right up behind him and dangled the bottle of pink in his face. “Peace offering. Electrolytes.”
He grabbed the bottle. “That’s supposed to make up for subjecting me to power saw noises all day?”
“I didn’t pour the Long Island iced teas down your throat last night.” Ozzy considered raising his voice, but there was still enough guilt in him that he didn’t want to be a total dickwaffle. Plus he still found himself a touch tongue-tied, so close to Evander being so damned hot. “Also, I recall helping you up off your drunken ass so you could get back to your bedroom. That should count for something.”
