“Hell yes I am! Demo is my favorite part of the job.”

“Helps you release some built-up aggression?”

“That, and it’s just a great workout.” I pull a box cutter out of my back pocket as Declan leaves to find the hammers and crouch in a corner, cut the carpet and peel it back, revealing exactly what I thought: gorgeous wood floors. They need to be sanded and refinished, but they’re beautiful.

“You came prepared,” Declan murmurs behind me. I stand and turn in time to catch him looking at my ass and cock a brow, but he’s not embarrassed in the slightest.

I’m wearing my usual outfit for this kind of work: a fitted black T-shirt and jeans with work boots.

“I love my girlie girl clothes,” I tell him and sheath the cutter in my back pocket. “But there’s a time and place for them, and this isn’t it.”

“You’re right.” He grins and hands me a hammer, along with some safety goggles.

“Ready?” I move over to the smaller wall and smile at Declan, and when he nods, we both start taking swings at the walls, making giant holes in the drywall and sending dust into the air. I make the mistake of glancing over at Declan in time to watch his biceps flex as he hits the wall, so to pull myself together, I focus on my wall until I have all of the drywall off the studs.

When I turn, Declan is done as well, his arms crossed over his dusty chest, watching me with humor-filled eyes.

“You’re hot when you’re beating the shit out of a wall.”

I bark out a laugh, scoop up a piece of drywall, and throw it, hitting him square in the shoulder, leaving a white mark. He simply looks down at his shoulders and then back at me, his eyebrows hiked up near his hairline.

“No. You. Didn’t.”

I snort with laughter and clap, delighted with myself. “I did.”

“You’ll pay.”

“How?”

He takes two steps toward me, his face determined, just as my phone pings with an incoming text.

“Saved by the bell!” I cry and pull my phone out of my pocket, then frown when I see Pete’s name. Busy for dinner tonight?

Ugh. Pete. He’s nice, and we do have a history, but it’s ancient history, and the chemistry just wasn’t there.

Plus, he has three children, and I’m not in the market to be anyone’s mom, step or otherwise.

Rather than reply, I just shove my phone back in my pocket.

“Something wrong?” Declan asks.

“No, it’s nothing.” I glance around, surveying our handiwork. “Do you see the brick I exposed near the outside wall?” I ask, pointing. Declan nods and we walk over to inspect it. “I didn’t see any brick on the outside of the house.”

“It’s not brick,” he confirms with a frown. “Back up.”

I comply, and he continues to punch out the dry wall on the adjoining wall, exposing more brick.

“I bet it was a fireplace,” I say, excited that we found it. “Someone decided they didn’t want it anymore and just hid it.”

“You’re right,” he says as he uncovers the actual fireplace part and smiles. “Let’s take this drywall out too and expose the brick. Even if it’s no longer functioning, the brick is beautiful.”

We spend another hour carefully uncovering the fragile brick. We don’t want to take out too much. It’s going to be a challenge for the carpentry crew as it is.

When we’re finished, Declan offers a fist for me to bump.

“We kicked ass today,” he says.

“And made a mess.” I wince and survey the dusty mess around us. “Let’s haul it all out to the dumpster, then rip out this carpet.”

“Then I’ll order in pizza.”

I check the time on my phone. “How did it get to be four in the afternoon already?”

“Knocking down walls takes time,” he says as he picks up an armful of drywall and heads out back to the dumpster. Hauling it all away takes almost as much time as it did to tear it down.

Finally, we rip the carpet out, roll it into manageable strips, and take it out to the dumpster together. After the last of the carpet is in the garbage, I brush the dust and dirt off my clothes then Declan’s back, and he returns the favor.

“We are dirty.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know it was the wrong thing to say.

“Not in a couple weeks,” Declan says, right on cue, making me laugh.

“Har har,” I reply. “Okay. I’m starving. You promised me pizza.”

“Coming right up.”

***

“It’s so nice out here,” I say between bites of loaded pizza. We’re sitting on the front porch now, me on the top of the steps with my back leaning against the top of the railing, and Dec sitting opposite me, in the same position. The box of pizza is open between us.

It’s early evening now. Traffic, both motor and foot, has slowed. The trees are moving a bit in the breeze.

“Mmm,” he agrees, his mouth full.

“How old do you think these oaks are?” I ask, looking up into their branches.

“A few hundred years,” he replies lazily.

This. This right here is what I want with someone someday. I want the comfort. I want to be able to laugh and work hard together. Share a pizza and soak up a nice evening.

It’s a good start, anyway.

I reach for a third slice and sigh in happiness with the first bite, then swig the beer Declan opened for us.