Caught: Gold Hockey #15 by Elise Faber

Author:Elise Faber [Faber, Elise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elise Faber

Seventeen

Charlie

He watched Kacee work beside Mike, Blane, and Stefan (Brit having commandeered their baby and joined the back yard bubble—for the kids—wine—for the grownups—party).

Quiet to start.

Shy and uncomfortable.

And then a glimpse of Goldie.

Charming a laugh out of Mike, chuckles out of Stefan. Her shoulders relaxed. The tension left her spine, and more Goldie emerged.

After Coop had left the kitchen with Emma in tow, Blane had asked Kacee to come out to the garage. There was discussion over the sheetrock and whether it was worth salvaging the pieces that had gotten wet, cutting the others that were looking worse for wear after the day of moisture (despite the fans).

In the end, it was decided to replace it all. Kacee protested, which Mike, Blane, and Stefan had ignored, not because they didn’t want her input, but because a giant pile of sheetrock and a dumpster had been delivered in front of the house and they didn’t want it to “go to waste.”

Which meant with a dark look over her shoulder at him, Kacee had relented, mostly because of the waste part, he knew, but then she had gone inside and come out with the drills—sending him a dirty look that told him it was also because of the free stuff and labor part—as she unboxed them and set them to charge. Another disappearing act before she had come up with some box cutters, a few pry bars, and she and the guys had gotten to work tearing off the sheetrock.

He’d been relegated to tool organization in the house.

Justly so, he supposed, considering his first—and only—use of the box cutter to slice through the sheetrock had nearly ended with him nicking a cluster of electrical wires.

He could man a drill—if he ever bothered to take them out of the box.

He could fix the washer on the sink to stop the faucet from leaking.

He could change a light bulb, swap out a switch plate, hang a perfectly straight picture.

But box cutters into sheetrock, and doing it while avoiding electrical wires…nope, not so much. So, tool organization. He’d get those suckers to shine—even if they didn’t need to shine to be functional—and he was doing just that when his sister walked into the room, picked up another towel, and started buffing chisels.

Charlie turned his head, lifted a brow. “You had to call in the full Gold cavalry?” he muttered dryly.

A shrug. “She’s got to get used to it sooner or later.”

“I asked for a TV.”

Another shrug. “And you got the full Gold cavalry.” A grin. “Deal with it.”

“Oh, I’m gonna deal with it,” he said, well, muttered, because he’d started with the grumbling and wasn’t going to stop. Not with his sister and her well-meaning interference (and did he know a few things about well-meaning interference? Yeah, so what? That wasn’t the point). “I’m finally getting her to trust me,” he said. “I had to fight with her to get her to accept my help at all, let alone the couple of bags of groceries,

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