“You won’t regret it,” I told him.
Delaney huffed out a laugh. “Unlike those?” He jerked a thumb toward the kitchen. “I don’t even want to fucking look at them again. They’re like… they’re like the scarlet letter of cabinets. A giant red A for Asshole.”
I snort-laughed, and a moment later, so did he.
“God, I wish we could rip them out right now,” he confessed. “Just so I don’t have to look at them again.”
I stopped laughing abruptly as an idea formed, an idea that would distract me from my… distraction and hopefully help Delaney work out his frustration. I pushed to my feet and held out a hand. “Come with me.”
“What?” He looked up at me in confusion, but after a moment’s hesitation, he grasped my hand and let me pull him to his feet.
We stood there for a heartbeat, nearly chest to chest. Then I stepped back, still holding his hand, and led him toward the kitchen.
The room was shadowy and dark, illuminated only by the glow from my phone’s flashlight. Delaney’s shoulder pressed against mine as we surveyed the red monstrosities hanging on the wall.
“Wait here,” I said. I jogged out to the garage, the cold air a brief shock against my heated skin, and returned moments later with a sledgehammer, two pairs of safety goggles, and a battery-powered work light that cast the kitchen in a stark, dramatic glow.
“Holy shit. You’re going to rip them out now?” Delaney’s eyes were wide, a mixture of shock and something that looked like excitement on his face. “Rightnow?”
“No. Of course not.” I moved behind him, close enough that my chest pressed against his back, and put the safety goggles on over his glasses, securing the elastic around the back of his head. Then I took his hand in mine and wrapped his fingers around the wooden handle.
I leaned down and spoke directly in his ear, my lips nearly brushing his skin. “You are.”
I felt him move against me, his breath catching audibly. His head turned, bringing our faces so close I could feel the heat radiating from his skin.
“Me and tools…” He bit his lip. “Remember what happened last time? This… this is probably a terrible idea.”
“Maybe,” I agreed, my voice low and rough. “Or maybe you should stop thinking about all the last times and concentrate onthistime.” I moved my hands to rest lightly on his hips. “Because I guarantee it’ll feel phenomenal. Trust me, Delaney.”
Delaney laughed, a breathless sound that sent heat racing through me. “Fuck it,” he whispered, eyes gleaming. “Okay.”
CHAPTERSEVEN
DELANEY
Brewer’ssolid chest pressed against my back as he guided my hands on the sledgehammer, and his hips aligned with mine in a way that was highly, highly distracting.
“There’s no trick to this,” he murmured, and though his deep voice was soothing, his warm breath against my neck was the opposite. “There’s no trick to it. Just lift the hammer and smack the fuck out of the cabinets, yeah?”
“Yeah. Yes. I can do that.” My voice came out breathless and tipsy, a little from the wine and mostly from Brewer.
“I know you can.” He gave me a gentle push forward, breaking our connection.
The sledgehammer was lighter than I expected as I lifted it, and I felt a grin spread across my face. I channeled all my frustration through my arms and into the steel head… and whacked the first shiny, red cabinet door. The impact sent a satisfying jolt up my arms as the door crumpled, hinges tearing loose from the cabinet frame.
It was messy and gratuitously destructive…
And I let out a whoop of triumph that echoed through the darkened kitchen.
“Hell yeah!” Brewer encouraged from behind me, his voice warm with amusement. “Hit it again. Hit it like it insulted your journalism degree! Hit it like it just told you that Hen’s achy elbow predicted a hurricane!”
Laughing giddily, I repositioned my hands on the wooden handle and squared my feet, which were just a little unsteady.
I wasn’t drunk, exactly. Not drunk enough to make any truly terrible decisions, anyway… At least, none worse than the ones I’d already made tonight, like kissing my contractor senseless or confessing my deepest insecurities to hisdog.
I swung again, catching the upper corner of the same cabinet, and this time, the entire unit ripped away from the wall, taking a small square of plaster with it. It crashed to the drop cloth with a magnificent clatter that had me grinning like a maniac.
“God, that feels good,” I panted, surprised by how much I meant it. My heart hammered in my chest, exhilaration coursing through me. “I’m gonna keep going!”
