Chapter Four
The next day, Storm knew if he didn’t get out of the office soon, he might wring his twin’s neck. He loved his family and, hell, he knew he and Wes were closer than close, but some days, he was just tired of it all.
“Raymond fucked up again,” Wes growled as he stomped his way through the office. They had an open floor plan in the main office where Storm, Wes, Decker, Meghan, Harper, and Tabby each had their own desks and could easily see and talk to each other if needed. Since most of the time many of them were out on jobsites, it usually wasn’t a problem noisewise. They had offices in the back for meetings with clients and a place for Storm to work since he was the lead architect of the company, but most days, there was always a few people in and out of the main room.
Tabby raised her finger, her attention on her phone call and her computer all at once. Storm just shook his head, his attention on the plans in front of him and not his brother. Wes was in a mood, and Storm didn’t want to deal with him. That was the problem with working with family, though—there was no hiding. Ever.
“Are you listening to me?” Wes asked, hovering over Storm’s desk.
Storm let out a sigh and lifted his head, annoyed at the ache in his back. He’d been sitting too long working on this one design instead of going to the back where his standing desk was. He was getting too old for long days like this.
“I am,” Storm said as he ran a hand over his face. “Not sure why you’re freaking out right now. We knew Raymond was a fuck-up ten minutes after we hired him, but we needed a plumber for the Westcott job. Luc and the rest of the crew were keeping an eye on him because Raymond can do his job if he doesn’t let his attention wander. Hell, the man was only hired on for a probationary period of two weeks because he said he’d gotten his life under control, but now we know that isn’t the case.” Storm let out a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What did he do?”
Wes sat on the edge of Storm’s desk, which annoyed him to no end. But Storm did the same to Wes, so he let it pass. His brother was getting on his nerves more and more these days, and Storm knew he needed to take a step back and breathe. Wes wasn’t really doing anything wrong, he just kept prodding until Storm wanted to scream. It was a twin thing.
“He never showed up.” Wes ran a hand over his face much like Storm had just done. The two of them were fraternal twins, but they had many of the same mannerisms and things that matched more than they did with others in their family. His family had called them “the twins” for so long that he answered to it just like he did “Storm.” There was another set of twins in the Montgomerys, as well—cousins who were fraternal also. He couldn’t help but think of yet another set of brothers he knew that were also called “twins.” James and Nathan were identical, though and were stinking cute—spitting images of their mother.
Storm quickly pushed thoughts of Everly out of his mind. Things had been weird between them for the past few months—years if he were honest with himself—and they’d only gotten more awkward since he’d brought Jillian over that one time to fix Everly’s sink.
Storm sat up straighter, knowing he was probably about to make a mistake but didn’t have another choice. “I have a plumber we can use.”
Wes’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t bring it up when we hired Raymond.”
“She had another contract at the time, but it ended last week.” He pulled out his phone. “She’d be a good fit for Montgomery Inc.”
“She?” Wes’s voice held a hint of speculation.
“Don’t tell me you think women can’t be plumbers,” Tabby said from her desk. “Because I’m just fine with using the fighting techniques Alexander taught me to kick your ass.”
Wes held up his hands. “I wasn’t thinking that. I’m thinking my brother is about to ask me if his ex-girlfriend can come and work with us.” There was an edge to his tone that made Storm stand up.
“First, Jillian isn’t my ex-girlfriend.” He held up his hands. “I’m not going to get into that because, hell, we aren’t in high school. Secondly, she’d a damned amazing licensed plumber.”
Wes narrowed his eyes. “If she’s so good, why is she available?”
“Now you’re just trying to be an asshole,” Storm bit out.
“I’m trying to get a full answer.”
“Okay, boys. Step away from each other and take a breath.” Tabby came up between them and gave them each a look.
Storm lowered his head, pissed off at himself for getting angry at all. Just because Wes kept needling him didn’t mean he had to react. And knowing Wes, he probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.
“She needed to finish out her contract for the other company, and they strung her along forever since they made it working hours and not days on hire. She’s been working for a few other companies, as well, trying to get the right fit, but she doesn’t want to start her own business.”
“That’s smart,” Tabby added in. “And from what I know of Jillian, she’s smart.”
Wes pressed his lips into a thin line. “I know Meghan and the rest have a stake in the company, but you and I are the ones who decide on hiring for something like this. So if you trust her and think you can work through whatever the two of you are doing, then fine. I mean, with Luc and Meghan married and so many of the rest of our company married into our family, it shouldn’t matter.” He paused. “But it does.”
“You just don’t like her,” Storm said after a moment. He didn’t know why, but the two of them had never gotten along, even though they didn’t spend that much time together.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Wes said slowly. “But I don’t want us hiring her and have it end up hurting the company. Hurting our family.”
Storm met his twin’s eyes and hoped the other man saw what he needed to see. “She’s good people, Wes. She’s my friend.” He hoped that was still the case since he hadn’t seen her since the night in the ER, but he wasn’t going to mention that. “And she’s a fantastic plumber.”
Wes blew out a breath. “We needed someone on the Westcott project like yesterday, so yeah, bring her in. I just hope we aren’t making a huge fucking mistake.”
Storm rolled his eyes. “Real confidence you have there.”
“I worry. It’s my thing.”
“And my thing is to make sure you don’t have a heart attack because of it,” Tabby said with a smile, though she still looked worried as her gaze darted between the two of them. “Now get back to your desk and sign those forms I sent to you. Then don’t forget that Decker needs a hand on the Bailey project later this afternoon. I told him I’d send one of you but didn’t say which.”
Wes gave Storm a look. “Looks like it’ll be me, right? When’s the last time you worked onsite?” His brother winked, telling Storm he was joking the way they always kidded around and no harm was meant, but Storm felt like he’d gotten kicked in the chest.
There were reasons he didn’t go to sites as much as he used to, but he hadn’t told Wes what they were. He wasn’t sure he could.
“I’ll help Decker,” Storm said, his voice perfectly calm. Wes opened his mouth to say something, but Storm shrugged him off. “Go sign those papers since Tabby needs you. I’ll give Jillian a call and see what she can do before I head to Decker.”
He turned away and made his way to one of the back offices, his back aching and tension in his shoulders that he knew wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. But it was just another day at Montgomery Inc., and he’d have to get over it. Eventually.
Storm gave Jillian a cautious look as she walked into the office an hour after he’d called her. She’d agreed to come in immediately to see if she fit, but he was still afraid it might be a mistake. He hadn’t seen her since she’d walked away from him after declaring that whatever they had was over. And the sad part about all of that was that he wasn’t too upset about it. He was more worried that he’d hurt her in some way than bothered by the fact that they wouldn’t be sleeping together anymore. He and Jillian were friends, and he would hate himself if he’d inadvertently hurt her.
She wore her normal working attire of jeans and a t-shirt. Usually, it would have had the company logo of her employer on the front, but since she no longer worked with them, she’d just put on a plain one. He knew she’d used to wear baggier clothes to hide her curves because men could be assholes and had stared at her body more than her work, but in the past couple of years, she’d worn what was comfortable to her rather than caring what others thought.
If she took the job with Montgomery Inc., he knew she’d be well taken care of. Any man or woman who leered or said crude things wouldn’t be working for or with them anymore. The Montgomerys didn’t stand for crap like that.
“Hey, glad you could make it on such short notice,” he said as he walked around his desk. He picked up a notebook on his way so he wouldn’t have the urge to hug her hello like he usually did. Things were already awkward with Wes, and Storm didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire.
She lifted her chin in greeting. “Thanks for calling.” There was an awkward pause between them that Storm hated with every fiber of his being before she let out a breath and ran a hand through her hair. She hadn’t bothered to put it up in its usual ponytail that morning, apparently. “Okay, let’s just get this out in the open, shall we?”
“Yes, let’s,” Wes said as he walked into the room, his eyes narrowed.
Storm prayed for patience.
Jillian studied Storm’s twin as if he were a bug and snorted. “Storm and I are friends. Nothing more now, and not quite more before. Storm and I are adult enough to work together because we’re professionals.” She gave Storm a pointed look.
“No problem here,” Storm said quickly, holding back a smile. There was a reason Jillian was one of his favorite people. She got to the point and hated dealing with subtext most days. Though as he thought that, he remembered how vague she’d been at the hospital, but he put that out of his mind because, based on the way Wes’s eye twitched, he was pretty sure his brother was about to have a stroke.
“Are you saying I’m the problem?” Wes asked through gritted teeth.
Jillian folded her arms in front of her. “You’ve always had a problem with me, Wes. Don’t try to deny it. I don’t know why, and I’d say it wasn’t my problem, but if I’m going to be working for you guys, I don’t want to deal with any crap that has nothing to do with my work.”
Storm looked at the ceiling, blowing out a breath before he lowered his head to glance from one of them to the other. They’d squared off, their shoulders tense as they glared at one another.
“We’re not going to have a problem. Right, Wes?” Storm asked, annoyed. They weren’t in high school anymore, but hell, sometimes two people just didn’t hit it off, and things could escalate. “I’m not in the mood to be the ringleader here. I don’t need the two of you fighting with each other all the time. We need a plumber, and Jillian is the best I know. She’s finally free of her contract and came in today to get the paperwork done with Tabby who’s in the back on a conference call.” He gave Wes a look. “As you like to point out—often—you’re the one on the jobsite more frequently, so you’re going to have to work with Jillian daily. If you can’t do that, then we’re going to have to make some decisions, but I’d like to think that we’re all old enough to get shit done without fighting. Am I wrong?”
Jillian let out a breath, her cheeks turning red even as she glared at Wes. “Sorry. I have a bad habit of getting my back up when I feel like people are going to judge me. You haven’t seen me work, and we’ve never actually been on the jobsite together. So I’m going to take a leap and go with the idea that you don’t like me for personal reasons. That’s fine. We don’t have to be friends, but I don’t want it to affect the way you treat me on the job.”
Wes’s jaw tightened before he spoke, and Storm prayed he wouldn’t have to stay between the two of them for long. They needed to hash this out so he could deal with his own busy schedule and problems.
“I’ve heard great things about you so let’s see if you live up to your reputation.”
Storm just barely held back the roll of his eyes.
“Generous of you,” Jillian said sweetly.
“Just be on time, do good work, and don’t get in my way and we’ll be fine,” Wes said before holding out his hand. “Welcome to Montgomery Inc.”
Jillian took Wes’s hand hesitantly, and Storm held his breath. “Thanks. I’ve heard good things about the company.”
“Of course, you have,” Storm said with a snort. “We’re the best out there.”
Wes grinned at Storm but stiffened as his phone rang. “I’ve got to take this, but Tabby will be out in a second to help you with your paperwork.” He looked at Storm. “Still okay going to the jobsite to help Decker? I can do it.”
Storm’s shoulders tensed even as Jillian spoke. “You do construction work in dress pants and a tie?” she asked skeptically.
“I change into jeans when I go to a site. Today, I have meetings with suppliers so I wore this.” He waved over at Storm. “Just because Storm tends to wear flannel doesn’t mean I do. We’re twins, not the same person.”
Jillian held up her hands, her eyes wide. “Seems I stepped into something there. Sorry. Won’t do it again.”
Storm snorted. “You will, but then again, we all do here. And, Wes? It’s fucking hot outside so I’m not wearing flannel, thank you very much.”
“You’re thinking about flannel, though. It’s your favorite thing.” Wes grinned, and Storm rolled his eyes. So what if he loved flannel? It was comfortable.
Tabby walked out of the back room right then and smiled widely. “Jillian! Yay, you’re here. I have your paperwork all ready, so let’s get started.” She shooed both Wes and Storm. “You both have appointments, so get going. I can handle Jillian.”
Storm shook his head, smiling as he picked up his things from his desk before heading out of the office, giving everyone a chin lift as he did. He wasn’t really in the mood to deal with backbreaking work in this heat, but Montgomery Inc. was his company, and he’d get shit done if he had to.
By the time he made it to the jobsite, Decker had most of the crew on the roof, tearing off the old shingles so they could put on a new one. Wes and Tabby hadn’t mentioned that he’d be on the damn roof in this heat, and now he wanted nothing more than to crawl back to his desk. Hell, his back ached something fierce just thinking about all the weight he was about to put on it.
But this was his job, and he needed to get over it and get to work. He got out of his truck, pulling out this stuff as he did so. Thankfully, he’d grabbed his water bottle on the way out so he could refill it at the station Decker had set up.
“Hey, man,” Decker called out. “Glad you could make it. Grab what you need and head on up.” His brother-in-law wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt, sweat and dirt clinging to him. “Sooner we get through this, the sooner we can get out of this damn heat.”
“On my way!” Storm yelled back, grateful he’d worn a thin shirt today instead of something like his normal flannel.
It was indeed backbreaking work to tear off an entire roof in the summer heat, but it needed to be done. Storm’s body was drenched in sweat and dirt, and God knew what else had come off the shingles as he worked. By the time they were done, it had taken ten men and more swearing than Storm could measure.
And he knew he’d need an ice bath once he got home.
There was no missing that familiar twinge in his back that said he’d not only overdone it, but had hurt himself enough that if he weren’t careful, he’d be headed right back into the doctor’s office for treatment. And as that was not something on his list of things to do, he prayed that ice and a long soak would help him. His brothers had joked with him when he’d put in the large soaker tub in his master bath, but if they knew why he used it often, they might not have done so.
Not that he planned to tell them. Ever. Some things were just meant to be kept secret. Some truths were never meant to be told.
He said his goodbyes to the crew and made sure everything was set for the next day. Decker had it handled, but Storm liked to make sure the man didn’t need anything just in case.
In need of a long soak and a cold beer, he drove home, the waning sunlight blinding him in rush-hour traffic. It just set him on edge that much more, and he gripped the steering wheel harder, his back having enough spasms that he needed to keep still or he’d end up crying like a fool.
By the time he pulled into his driveway, new sweat poured down his face, and he thought about leaving his shit in the truck but thought better of it just as fast. He didn’t want to have to leave his tub or bed once he got in. He limped like an old man into his house, his hands shaking. He hadn’t had an attack like this in over a year, and he wasn’t necessarily in the mood for it now.
Then the whining started—thankfully, not by him.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. He’d forgotten about his damn puppy. He had a friend come over during the day to play with Randy and make sure he did his business and all that, but he was still young enough that he needed to be in a crate during the day. As the crate was about half the size of his mudroom in the back, the puppy had more room than even Storm did at his desk at work. But Storm still felt bad that he didn’t get to run until Storm got home.
He set his things down on the dining room table and slowly made his way to the back of his house. Randy barked and yipped, jumping around his large crate as he saw Storm.
Even in pain, Storm couldn’t help but smile at the little guy. According to the vet, he was a shepherd mix of some sort and had those big ears that so many of them did as puppies. The program Randy was in, and the one Storm volunteered for, figured that Randy would grow into those ears and those big ass feet of his one day. When that day came, Storm was pretty sure Randy would end up being as big as he was when he stood on his hind legs.
Storm loved working for Pets for Progress, even though he couldn’t always help out as much as he wanted to because of work and family stuff. He helped train puppies and older dogs to aid their humans with PTSD. Every person who suffered did so differently, and it was the program’s job to ensure that they did everything they could to make sure the dogs could help. Having a warm body to comfort you while you were having a panic attack was like nothing else for some people. The Pets for Progress program was small, so they worked with only dogs, but there were others around the country that worked with cats, llamas, and other animals that provided comfort and warning if the effects of PTSD were just too much. Storm couldn’t save the world, but he could at least help whom he could. He owed that much.
“Hey, little guy,” Storm said with a smile as he opened the cage. “Sit, Randy.”
Randy wiggled his little butt, so excited that his human was home, but he eventually sat down, his body shaking with happiness.
“Stay,” Storm said in a low voice.
Randy stayed for about twenty seconds before hopping up on his two legs and batting his paws in the air for love.
Storm held back a smile. “Well, you lasted longer than yesterday, but we still have some work to do. Come on, then. Let’s go outside, and I’ll get you fed before I crash.”
Randy trotted along at Storm’s side, clearly in need of pets. And if Storm could bend, he’d have given them to him. The puppy did his business outside as Storm stood on the back deck, unable to go down the stairs just then. He knew he needed to put in a ramp eventually, but apparently, he was still in denial of some things.
“Come on, Randy. Let’s get some chow.”
The puppy scampered up the steps before jumping on the bench along the side of the deck, reaching up for Storm.
Storm smiled widely, finally able to reach Randy to rub his hands up and down the little puppy’s body. “You’re a good boy, Randy.”
Randy let his tongue hang out in absolute joy as Storm petted the little guy. When Storm picked him up—grunting only a little at the slight weight—and carried him inside, Randy shifted so he was on his back and his belly was bare.
Storm got Randy his food and let the little guy scarf it down as he made something to eat for himself after finding leftover takeout in his fridge. He was still sweaty, dirty, and in pain, but he needed something in his gut. He popped an Aleve into his mouth and swallowed it down before stripping off his shirt and pants so he stood in his kitchen in just his boxer briefs, still sweaty, but a little less dusty.
He pulled out his trusty ice pack from the freezer and brought his dinner with him to the living room where he sank onto the couch in his underwear and ate his meal like the single man he was. At least he’d used a plate, instead of eating right out of the container.
Randy jumped onto the couch, and Storm was honestly too tired to teach him anything better right then. The puppy settled on his lap and snoozed as Storm adjusted the ice pack on his back.
His body ached.
His stomach rolled at the greasy, heated-up takeout.
He wore only his underwear on his couch.
And now, his puppy had just peed on his lap.
This was the old Montgomery he’d become. It was no wonder he was alone.
Again.