Give It Up

Book 1: Thorne Brothers

by Lee Kilraine

Genres: Family Life; Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

Beckett. Asher. Gray. Eli. Ryker. Wyatt. Five out of six very different brothers reunited—and working to make their construction firm a success. But oldest brother Beckett just found their major new project becoming one hard and sexy challenge . . . A rough childhood tore Beckett and his brothers apart. It took everything he had to track them down and establish Six Brothers Construction. He only trusts them—and his drive to win. Now if SBC can build a billionaire team owner’s much-hyped new mansion, it will put them on the map—and finally fulfill Beckett’s promise to take care of his siblings. Too bad he’ll have to collaborate with hot new rival Samantha Devine, who’s throwing him curves on-site, out-the-box . . . and between the sheets. Sam knows from experience that arrogant good-ole-boy Beckett is long, strong, and built to go the distance. But this is her only shot to prove she and her fledgling design company can succeed on her own terms. She’ll match Beckett’s expertise by day—and reignite the explosive heat between them by night. But when passion threatens to become real love, will this competition separate them for good . . . or make the sizzling collaboration of a lifetime?

Release date: July 10, 2018

Publisher: Lyrical Press

Print pages: 204

Sample

Chapter 1

Beckett

Welcome to the website of Six Brothers Construction. The design and build team you can count on.

The Thorne brothers—Beckett, Asher, Wyatt, Grayson, Elijah, and Ryker—lived an unconventional childhood. Raised by their free-spirited parents in a cooperative commune, they learned the value of clean living, hard work, and family values. Their parents’ life lessons bonded the brothers into a tightknit unit.

Deep in the Montana wilderness, the brothers learned the craft of wood-working, product design, and aesthetics during intensive apprenticeships with the commune’s resident experts. Starting as early as the first grade, each brother learned to swing a hammer, mill rough lumber, and craft furniture just as well as he could handle a rope and drive cattle. Their teachers expected practice and perfection in all areas. The boys delivered.

Each brother left home, scattering in different directions to find their own unique adventure, until the oldest brother, Beckett, gathered them back together. As they say in the movies, it was time to assemble the team. They settled in Raleigh, North Carolina, with a simple goal: to provide quality craftsmanship executed with the utmost professionalism and top-notch service. The brothers’ core business philosophy rests on the belief that when you’re true to your work, your word, and your customers, you’re true to yourself.

“That’s amazing.” The woman across from me sighed, snapped the laptop in front of her closed, and looked at me over the avocado green tiled kitchen island, noticeably impressed with Six Brothers Construction. “What a wonderful upbringing you had. I’ve read over your website three times now, and everything about it is amazing.”

Everything about it was bullshit.

“Our upbringing made us what we are today.” That was true. I could say that without my pants catching on fire.

“A commune in the wilds of Montana. That must have been beautiful.”

A series of trailer parks in far western North Carolina. It had been a dump. I’ve never been to Montana. Like I said, it was all bullshit, but bullshit that potential clients loved. Our company is licensed and bonded, but we learned quickly that our real story made people uncomfortable. I don’t have one iota of guilt over making that shit up. That website got our fledgling company’s foot in the door when we’d set up shop in Raleigh five years ago.

You want the real story? Everything I learned about construction began with reading books at the library. And then later, I moved on to YouTube videos. I even volunteered with Habitat for Humanity so I could work with carpenters until I had enough skills to get hired for day labor all while taking night classes at the local university. Every job I took I walked away with more knowledge and better skills. Not nearly as sexy as the wilds of Montana, right? You know what they say in the design industry…make it sexy.

I left the new client’s home with the job and a check for our standard deposit. It was a small kitchen and would need some creative thinking to maximize the space, but Eli lived for those challenges. All these little jobs added up, but they didn’t come close to what I knew our company needed. And soon. That weight sat on my shoulders alone. Responsibility I’d taken on a long time ago. I’m counting on you, Beckett. You take care of your brothers.

A decision made three years ago when I was desperate, one I thought I’d have settled by now and could avoid ever telling my brothers, was about to come due.

When traffic on the highway slowed to a crawl, I put in a call to our office to let them know the Wade job was a go.

“Welcome to the home of the beefcake builders. We’ve got the wood for your job. Which beefcake builder can I hook you up with?”

What the hell? Beefcake builder? “Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” I knew who it was, but wanted confirmation so I knew which brother’s ass to kick when I finally got out of this traffic jam and into the office.

“Oh my, don’t you have a raspy voice. This is Leesa with two ‘e’s, but you can spell it any way you want. Who is this?”

“I’m the one who signs your paychecks, Leesa with two ‘e’s, and I’d like you to answer the phone the way it’s listed in the training manual.”

“Mr. Thorne!”

“Beckett will do just fine, Leesa. I need you to answer the phone with ‘Six Brothers Construction. How can I help you?’” I reached over and punched the air conditioning up higher. It may have been one of those blue-sky Carolina days, but the July heat wave had been burning up the city for days. “Can you do that, Leesa?”

“Well, I guess I can, but have you looked around at yourselves? Y’all are gorgeous, so I figured ‘beefcake builders’ would help you drum up more business.”

“You get points for initiative, but all new ideas get run by everyone at the weekly staff meeting.” Where ideas like “beefcake builders” could be shot down and burned upon the pyre of bad ideas that would never see the light of day. I made a mental note to stop letting Eli hire our receptionists.

“Awesome! Whoa, oh my gawd.” Leesa’s voice lowered to a whisper in my hands-free earpiece. “I think that hockey player Asher the Crasher just walked in the office. Should I try my ‘beefcake builders’ line on him? Pfft. What am I saying? He’s a guy. Beefcake builders won’t reel him in.”

It sure as hell would. Ash didn’t hide the fact that he was gay, but he didn’t advertise it either. It still pissed me off that Ash was the reason we’d lost the best receptionist we’d ever had. I’d even begged Ash to keep his hands off Jonathan. Did he listen? Hell no. Everyone knew how it was going to end. It was how all Thorne brother relationships ended. Early and quick. We didn’t do commitment. And once Ash broke Jonathan’s heart, he said the office was a painful reminder and quit, leaving us with the ongoing headache of finding someone capable of replacing him. Asher owed us big.

“OMG! What if he wants to hire y’all?”

“He doesn’t. Leesa, do you know Asher the Crasher’s last name?” At this point, not only was I beginning to wonder if Leesa was still in high school, but I’d decided that Eli had one week to get her up to speed or she was gone. How could it be so hard to hire a qualified, competent receptionist?

“It’s not Crasher? Wait…let me think. I should know this because me and my girlfriends were puck bunnies for a few seasons. Asher the Crasher…Thorne. His last name is Tho—OMG! He’s your brother? Of course he is! He looks like y’all, only bigger. A lot bigger, meow.”

The traffic in front of me finally started moving, and sure enough it had backed up from everyone rubber-necking an accident on the shoulder. Flying cars couldn’t be invented fast enough. “Please tell Ash I’ll be there in ten minutes. Any calls I should know about?”

“A Ms. Goddard called. She said she’s having doubts about her wood choice. She’s afraid it’s too light and would like you to bring more samples over.”

Like hell I would. Ms. Goddard had no doubts about what she wanted only it had nothing to do with her bathroom remodel. “Pass her message on to Gray. Let him handle it.”

“Will do, boss. I’ve only been here a day, and that brother of yours could convince me to put shag carpet in my whole house. I’d let him handle me any day.”

There was something about Gray that people responded to. He should have been a lawyer; no doubt juries would fall under his charm too. Ash said it was on account of Gray being so pretty.

Whatever it was, it worked in our favor since as soon as a new client got to Gray’s phase of the job they literally sat back with a sigh and said yes to almost every one of his suggestions. Hell, his pretty face was so helpful I should probably insure it for a million bucks like a ballplayer insures their arm.

It was true he might use his power to seduce women around town more than he should. But they didn’t seem to mind. He was straight about what he wanted from women when it came to relationships. If a night or two counted for a relationship, because that was Gray’s limit.

Hey, I warned you we Thornes don’t do relationships. We’re not assholes; we just don’t believe in love. We don’t trust it. And we’re doing fine without it. We’ve got a business we’re passionate about and we’ve got each other. Well, almost, but we’re working on the last missing piece.

When I walked in the office a few minutes later, Eli was leaned against the reception desk chatting up Leesa. Let’s hope they were reviewing how to answer the phone. Ash exited the break room with what looked like the contents of the refrigerator on the plate he carried and I didn’t say a thing.

First, because Ash was a professional hockey player and worked out like a beast. Second, we’d all been hungry before. Do you know how hard it is to listen to one of your little brothers cry for two days because they hadn’t eaten since the free lunch at school on Friday and now it was Sunday night? I do. I’d rather let my old man beat the crap out of me than live through that again. You will never hear me give my brothers a hard time for eating too much. Ever.

“Did a leg workout and ran five miles. You in for chest tomorrow?” Ash asked around the bite of peanut butter-covered apple slice he was eating.

“Sure, I’m in.” I wasn’t the beast Ash was, but I could keep up with him most days. When a guy didn’t have a relationship sucking up his day, it left time for shit like working out and playing poker with the guys or hanging out in my garage rebuilding my Chevy fastback.

Ash grinned and jerked his head toward Leesa. “Beefcake builder? I like it. Real catchy.”

I might have growled seeing as how our receptionist problems started with him. “Not funny. You still owe us for that.”

“That’s exactly why I’m here.”

“This had better be good, Ash.” He followed me into my office, making himself at home in the classic yet comfortable Dabney chair from the upcoming fall collection. At least that’s what Gray babbled on about when he’d parked it in my office last week. “We’re on our sixth receptionist since you broke Jon’s heart.”

An actual look of regret flashed over Ash’s face, making me feel bad about bringing it up. Shit.

“It’s pretty good. I met the team’s new owner, Denver King, and his wife over the weekend. Lila King is looking for someone to remodel the house they bought. I’m talking top to bottom, all five thousand square feet.”

Damn, that was more than pretty good. A remodel for the new owner of the Raleigh Roughnecks wouldn’t just bring in a nice paycheck. No, you couldn’t pay for exposure like that. This might be the break I’d been needing, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. “Sounds like a big job.”

“Huge. And guess who happened to have a Six Brothers Construction business card handy?” Ash wagged his eyebrows and grinned. “Lila would like to meet you at her house at two tomorrow.”

“Damn, Ash, when you pay a debt—you go big.”

“You bet your ass I do.” He pointed a pickle spear at me before popping it into his mouth. “Heads up though, you aren’t the only designer she’s considering, so bring your A game.”

This time it was my turn to grin. “That’s the only game we’ve got. Who’s our competition?”

Ash shrugged. “Some guy named Sam Devine. Heard of him?”

Damn it. “I know Sam Devine. And he’s a she.” Samantha Devine of Devine Designs. She’d arrived on the decorating scene in Raleigh two years ago, and you could say I’d done my part to make the lady feel welcome.

“Well, shit,” Ash said, looking at me closely. “You slept with her.”

“I didn’t say that.” But I sure as hell had. Damn if I didn’t still remember every second of it as if it had been last night. I sucked in a quick breath of air at the memory. The two of us had gone up in flames. I had seriously contemplated something longer than my usual brief encounter—in a weak moment I’d even mentioned I’d like to see her again—but a little bit of cooling off time helped me squash that impulse.

And she’d been a pain in my ass ever since, nibbling into our business and beating us out of contracts.

“Hell, yes, I’ll bring my A game.” And I’ll happily win the contract right out from under her sexy ass. Game on.

Chapter 2

Samantha

“If you were a frisky llama, which design says, ‘whoa baby, let’s get it on’?” I held up my two renderings for the barn we’d been commissioned to renovate. “Design number one, which I’m calling the Alpaca You, You Packa Me Abode, with its dark, sexy reds that set the stage for seduction. Or design number two, the Llama Love Shack, playful and rustic charm with a romantic chandelier and white-washed walls?”

“Well, if I’m frisky, then definitely the sexy red.” Margo, my friend and business partner, looked up from laying out triple berry crumble muffins for our morning meeting. “But I’m guessing they wouldn’t need us if they had frisky llamas on their hands.”

“Oh, you think low-libido llamas? Or maybe the male llama is a jerk with commitment issues?” The clients, Dharma and Rowan, had hired us to refit an existing barn on their llama farm with a “bedroom” that was heavy on the romance. A desperate attempt to get their llamas in the mood as the breeding wasn’t going well.

“Why do you care what a llama would pick? The clients will pick which one they like.”

“I care because they’re going to let the llamas, Sunshine and Mist, pick the winning design plan.”

“The llamas? The llamas are going to choose? How does that even work?”

“Right? Point with a hoof? Spit on the preferred design? I can’t imagine.” I smiled across at Margo. “Make sure you text me and let me know.”

“Wait, what? Me?” Margo’s eyes went wide. “Why me? I don’t want to be within spitting distance of two sex-deprived llamas.”

“You’re going to have to; I’ve got the meeting with Lila King this afternoon.”

“Dang it. I forgot that was today. That explains your lucky suit.” Margo eyed me up and down. “Today’s our chance to stop being the ugly stepchildren in the Raleigh design world.”

I looked at my reflection in the full-length, French antique mirror across from me, giving my favorite little red dress and my Nasty Gal cheetah print pumps a once-over. This was number three on my list of “go-to” power outfits in my closet whenever I was making a sales presentation. This dress made my overly-generous ass look awesome. Or so I’d been told by my trusted ass connoisseur, Brady Jacobs.

In a round-about way, Brady was the reason I was invited to pitch for this much-coveted renovation and design job. I’d met Brady, an all-star defenseman for the Raleigh Roughnecks, through his girlfriend, Tanya. Tanya and I worked out at the same gym. Tanya didn’t last, but my friendship with Brady did. And Brady introduced me to Lila who had recently married the Roughnecks’ new coach. Thus, the need for the renovation on their new house.

From what Lila had told me about the job, it would be exactly the shot in the arm our firm needed. Devine Designs was only two years old; the new kid on the block in the Raleigh interior design scene. This gut job of a renovation would be the perfect way to expand our business, and the pay-off was too big not to give it a shot.

“It feels like we’ve been digging a tunnel with a teaspoon trying to break into the ‘go-to’ designers in this city the last two years, but if today goes the way I plan, it’ll be like crashing through with a bulldozer.” I looked around the compact space of our small upstart design firm with an eye to all the changes we could make if today’s meeting proved fruitful.

We were like a lot of other start-ups: trying to build our brand and get on people’s radar. We’d had steady work during our first two years of our new business, but in order to grow we needed something to change. We couldn’t keep living job to job. Hard work and talent had gotten us this far, but we could use a lucky break right now to help us begin to reinvest and grow our business.

“And not a moment too soon,” Margo said. “Do you know that over forty percent of new businesses fail before the second year?”

Oh, I knew. I may have only been a business owner for two years, but I’d worked at a large corporation since I was a freshman in high school. Between hands-on experience and an MBA, I knew a lot about what could make or break a business.

Running my own interior decorating company may not have been my original career goal, but I had too much invested and too much to prove to see it fail. Which I absolutely wasn’t going to think about this morning. Sugar not lemon, Samantha. Only positive thoughts today.

I grabbed the pot of green tea and two earthenware mugs from our almost-kitchenette and joined Margo at the round antique table for our ritual morning briefing where we discussed our daily schedules, the progress on each open job, and taste-tested the latest muffin recipes from Laura at the Muffin Mania bakery next door.

The table had been my first purchase for Devine Designs. A Stickley I’d found in a thrift store hidden under six coats of paint. A little hard work had uncovered the raw cherry wood top with elegantly tapered legs that grounded the space with its solid practicality and graceful lines. It had seen us through many late-night meals of sesame chicken and pot stickers while Margo and I threw all our creative energy into proposals for every little job we could chase down.

“How did it go with the Yosts yesterday?” Pouring out the tea, I passed one over to Margo and focused on the list in my planner.

“Ugh. Frustrating. We still haven’t found the ‘right’ shade of blue. I know it’s not robin’s egg and not indigo. Not blueberry and definitely not navy. Not the blue sky of a summer day, not Tiffany blue, and absolutely, positively not Carolina blue. At this point I’m not sure Mrs. Yost wants blue at all.” Margo puffed out a breath, rippling her straight auburn bangs. “We’ve now painted her master bath five times.”

“Did you take her back through the color wheel again?”

“Twice. And the Pantone fan deck.” She broke off a piece of muffin to nibble on. “This is just like Sandra Calhoun’s yellow dining room all over again.”

“I still have nightmares about that. Do you recall where we finally stumbled upon Sandra’s ideal shade of yellow?” I remembered because it had saved our sanity. After a month of searching for the perfect shade of yellow, I couldn’t eat a banana, drink lemonade, or even look at the sun without twitching.

“In her closet! Her favorite sundress. I wish I’d remembered that four shades of blue ago.”

“You probably blocked out that painful memory. Look for a dress or scarf or even the tones in her earring collection. It’s worth a try. But maybe dilute it by fifty percent.” I sipped my tea and looked at the next item on our list. “I heard from Damon late yesterday. He called to let me know he finished the wallpaper job.”

“Oh, great!”

“You’d think, except he wallpapered the wrong house.”

Margo sputtered on her tea and winced. “Ouch, that’ll set us back on time.”

“And budget. It’ll take him two days to strip it from the wrong house and get it installed in the Patel house.” The man was a genius with wallpaper but a bit loose with details ever since his wife had walked out on him. “Do we have any good news at all from yesterday?”

“Yes! The Millers are ready to pick lighting. I’m meeting with them this afternoon.” Margo pulled out a paper from the soft briefcase on the floor next to her and slid it over to me.

“Moving on, if you can track down the holy grail of blues over at the Yosts’ this morning, I’ll spend time at the Patels’ and reassure Sachi that the wallpaper mix-up won’t mess with our schedule. I found some gorgeous silk samples for her curtains I think she’ll love. After that I’ll head over to my afternoon appointment with Lila.”

“Sounds good.” Margo grinned at me and rubbed her hands together. “And once you land Lila’s reno, which I have no doubt you will with your talent and our teamwork, there’ll be no looking back.”

That was the goal, and I had to admit it was darn exciting to be so close to achieving it.

My phone rang, and I grabbed it up, checking the caller ID in case it was another fire to put out. The caller had me clenching my phone tight, as if I could crush it into silence. “Dammit. It’s my father.”

Margo’s gaze darted to my phone. “Don’t answe—”

. . .