Fallen Angels 01 - Covet by J.R. Ward Read Free Book Online Page A

his plate with the jackholes.

    Jim braced himself and headed for the supplies. The nail boxes were kept stacked in a lockable cabinet on the six-car garage's concrete slab, and next to them, lined up in a row, were the gas-powered electrical generators that were already going at a roar. Wincing at the noise, he stepped over the snakes of extension cords that ran out to the table saws and the nail guns and filled up the pouch on the left side of his tool belt.
    It was a relief to head for the southern side of the house—which, considering the floor plan, was practically in the next county. Setting to work, he began hefting six-foot-by-four-foot sections of particleboard and locking them in place against the framers. He used a hammer instead of a nail gun because he was just that flavor of old school—and because even with the manual stuff he was one of the fastest carpenters around.
    The sound of a pair of Harleys coming down the dirt drive brought his head up.
    Eddie and Adrian pulled their bikes in together and dismounted in sync, removing their leather jackets and their black sunglasses in the same rhythm too. As they approached the house, they came gunning in his direction and Jim groaned: Adrian was looking at him with a whole lot of what-the-hell-happened-with-the-hottie on his pierced face.
    Which meant the guy had noticed that Blue Dress disappeared about the same time Jim did.
    “Shit,” he muttered.
    “What?”
    Jim shook his head at the guy next to him and refocused on what he was doing. Positioning one of the sheets against the frame, he held it with his hip, unhooked his hammer from his belt, got a nail, and pounded. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat— “Have fun last night?” Adrian said as he came up. Jim just kept on pounding.

    “Ah, come on, I don't need all the details—but you could spare me a few.” Adrian glanced at his roommate. “Back me up, would ya?”
    Eddie just walked by and knocked his shoulder into Jim, which was his version of a good morning. Without being asked, he took over bracing the particleboard, which freed Jim up to hammer twice as fast.
    They were a great team, although Adrian balanced out the pace. He was less than industrious, preferring to spend his time fucking around and running his mouth. It was a wonder he hadn't gotten fired in the four weeks he'd been on the site.
    Ad leaned against a naked doorjamb and rolled his eyes. “You aren't going to tell me whether you got a birthday present or not?”
    “Nope.” Jim positioned a nail and creamed the head of it. Two hits and the top was flush with the board and then he got another fresh shot at imagining Adrian's face on a target.
    “You suck.”
    Yes, he certainly had last night—not that it was any business of that friendly neighborhood gum-flapping motherfucker with a metal fetish.
    Things fell into their usual rhythm, and the other guys got out of Jim and Eddie's way as they went around, closing the gap from where they'd stopped the day before, sealing things up from the spring rains that were just starting. The house was going to be about fifteen thousand square feet in size, so to get it battened down tight in just one week was a tall order. Still, Jim and Eddie were busting ass, and the roofers were already halfway across the rafters. By the end of the weekend, they weren't going to have to worry about the cold drizzle or the freezing wind anymore, and thank God for it. Yesterday had been a suckfest of wet and nasty, and there were still puddles here and there that splashed up onto his jeans.
    Lunchtime came quickly, which was what happened when he worked with Eddie, and while the other guys propped themselves on the edge of the house facing the sun, Jim went back to his truck and ate alone sitting in the cab.
    The sandwich was still cold, which always improved the taste, and the Coke was spectacular.
    As he sat on his own and chewed, he glanced over to the empty seat next to him...and remembered dark hair spilling over