by Morgan Blaze
Mark whirled and drove a fist at the wall, denting the plaster. He barely felt it. “Because I kissed her, goddamn it!”
Silence swelled in the room. He lowered his arm slowly, and spoke without turning. “I’m pretty sure you already had that figured out,” he said. “Are you happy, now that you made me say it?”
“Mark…”
“Don’t.” He spun to face his brothers, fists clenched tight. “I know exactly how stupid it was. And it’s over. It was over eight years ago. I thought she’d stay gone, but—” He cut himself off with effort. “She’s my problem now, and I’ll handle it. This is the only time I’m warning you. Stay the hell away from her. Understand?”
He didn’t bother waiting for a response. Because if he stuck around, the next target for his fists would be something that bleeds.
Chapter 5
Aubrey decided to head to the job site early Monday morning, armed with a few buckets of cleaning supplies and a really big fan. If she was going to be spending most of her time in that trailer, she’d make sure it was tolerable.
The family fight was over, for now. They’d handled it in the traditional Monroe way—sober up and pretend that nothing happened. At least until next time. She was sure Jason would throw what she said about Mark in her face again. But if she was lucky, maybe she could avoid the subject until it was too late and she’d moved on.
Part of her continued to protest this line of thought, running away from her family problems again, but long experience had taught her that nothing short of a miracle would change their minds.
She’d also considered quitting the job. But for once in her life, she was determined to make a stand. If she survived whatever Mark had planned for her, it might be good practice for standing up to her family. Provided she ever got the nerve to try.
The site was deserted when she got there at 7:30, and the trailer was locked. She probably should’ve considered that. Still, she wasn’t going to turn around and leave, so she started unloading. Just as she lugged the last of the supplies to the trailer, a car engine swelled and stopped. Then a door opened and closed.
It had to be Mark. She couldn’t get lucky enough for someone who didn’t loathe her existence to show up first.
Briefly she considered hiding, but he must’ve already seen her car. So she waited. Sure enough, after a minute Mark came around the trailer. He looked completely wiped out—rough shaven, eyes half-open with dark smudges under them, and wrinkled clothes that looked like he’d slept in them. “Work starts at nine,” he said without looking at her, pulling a key ring from his pocket. “Until then, go away.”
“Well, you’re here,” she said.
“Yeah, and they’re my rules. Means I’m the only one who gets to break them.” He unlocked the trailer door, went inside—and slammed it shut behind him.
Anger drove her straight after him. She grabbed the knob, ready to rattle it until he opened up, but it turned in her hand. So she yanked the door open and banged it against the outside wall as she walked in. “Let’s get something straight,” she said. “No matter what you do, I’m not quitting.”
“You already said that.” He stood at the little kitchenette with his back to her, filling the coffee pot with water. “Got anything new you want to bitch at me about?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Well, save it until nine. That’s when work starts.”
She crossed her arms. “What’s your problem, anyway?” she said. “You’re not screaming as loud as you were on Saturday. Are you saving that until nine, too?”
“My problem?” He turned the water off and stood there a moment, rigid and tense. Finally, he turned a blistering gaze on her. “Aside from the obvious, my problem is that some rich girl with a fancy degree and zero experience just waltzed into my town, onto my job site, and turned my life inside out. My problem is that I haven’t slept all weekend. My problem is you, sweetheart.”
She shivered. “I have experience.”
“Oh, really. Well, that just makes it all better, then. Problem solved. Thank you so much.” He moved toward her slowly. “Get out of my office.”
“What if I don’t?”
He grinned without warmth, and she decided she shouldn’t have said that. “Sweetheart, you really don’t want to find out.”
“This is ridiculous.” She tried to sound firm, despite her quivering insides and the fact that she was backing away from him. “Like it or not, we’re stuck working together. Why are you making it harder for both of us?”
“You think this is hard for me?” he said. “Believe me, I’ve got no problems making your life miserable. I’m only returning the favor.”
“But I’m not trying to make you miserable.” She gasped a little as her back hit the wall.
“So you’re doing it without even trying. What a talent you have.”
“Mark, please,” she half-whispered. “Can’t you just be civil?”
His palms slammed the wall on either side of her. “Is this civil enough for you?”
He kissed her.
The sensations were immediate. Heat scorched through her, electrifying every part of her body. His mouth pressed harder and she opened up to him, moaning as the hot silk of his tongue explored her teasingly.
Oh, God. It hadn’t been the alcohol all those years ago—she really was attracted to him. Completely, painfully attracted. And there wasn’t a chance in hell of acting on it.
Then he pulled away so abruptly, she felt the connection break.
Her eyes fluttered open. “What…”
“How’s that for civil, sweetheart?” His smile was cold and calculating.
Her stomach wrenched. “Was that part of your plan to make me quit?”
“No. That was a warning,” he said in flat tones. “I can’t force you to do anything, so I’m helping you make an informed decision to quit. You just need to understand that being around me is dangerous. Then I’m sure you’ll make the right choice.”
The anger at being used and manipulated let her refuse to be intimidated. “You’re not dangerous,” she said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
“Fine,” he said. “Then I am.”
As shaken as she was, for some reason it bothered her that he didn’t slam the door on the way out.
* * * *
It was a real shame Mark couldn’t use himself for target practice, because he deserved it. This time it was all his fault.
Goddamn it, why did he kiss her again?
He sure as hell hadn’t meant to. Maybe he wanted to worry her a little, stir up some of that Dawson reputation and remind her how much they hated each other. Make her think of all the reasons she shouldn’t be here. But the look on her face, part furious and part scared out of her mind, had been too much. He’d pushed harder than he meant.
So he kissed her. As if that was something she wanted.
Now all those feelings he’d ruthlessly buried were resurrecting themselves with a vengeance.
He’d managed to avoid her all morning by working around the back of the place, fitting and nailing plywood. His brothers had stayed away, too. Smart move on their parts. His self-loathing wouldn’t prevent him from taking a swing at Jonah if he heard a single word he didn’t like, and he just might be angry enough to bring his older brother down this time.
But as lunchtime neared, he figured he’d have to go out there—if only to make sure his crew was doing their jobs. Including the one whose job was to do nothing. Plus, he was getting a bit hungry.
He headed through the house frame and found Gage near the front, looking at blueprints. With her. She was pointing at something, and he was nodding and smiling. It looked suspiciously like she was trying to participate in the project. That wasn’t going to happen.
Neither of them noticed him until he was right behind him. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear last night,” he said.
Aubrey flinched, and Gage faced him with a guilty grin. “Er. Hey, boss,” he said. “S
he was just showing me how we could fix the front bathroom.”
“Fix?”
“Yeah. See, the door opens onto the foyer, but if we…” Gage trailed off and cleared his throat. “Anyway, she’s pretty smart,” he said. “It sounded like a good idea to me.”
Mark fought to keep from exploding. This wasn’t the time or the place. “Gage, who do you work for?”
“Um. I think I’ve got something to do over there.”
“Good idea.”
He made himself wait until his brother was out of earshot before he even looked at her. Then he said as calmly as possible, “You’re a consultant, right?”
“Yes,” she said. “I was just—”
“I don’t recall consulting you. About anything.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “You really think I’m just going to stay in that trailer for the next two months, don’t you?”
“Oh, I don’t think it. I know that’s what you’re doing.” It was an effort to stay where he was, not to advance on her. “Want to know how I know that?”
“Yes. Enlighten me.”
“Because my crew isn’t going to listen to you unless I tell them to,” he said. “And guess when that’ll happen?”
“Gage listened.”
“He was humoring you, sweetheart. There’s a difference. Gage doesn’t even know what a foyer is, and he sure as hell wouldn’t change anything because you said so.”
She frowned. “That’s a real nice thing to say about your brother. Do you think he’s stupid?”
“Don’t you dare.” His voice tightened until he could barely speak. “You don’t know a goddamned thing about my brothers, or how I feel about them. And you never will. If you ever try to bring my family into anything, I’ll make sure you never set foot on this job site again, no matter what Mrs. V. says. Are we clear?”
“Mark…I’m sorry.” She sighed and dropped her gaze to the blueprints she still held. “You’re right. I’m the one who said we should keep this professional, and I’ve got no business talking about your family.” When she looked up again, her eyes were cold. “And what you did this morning wasn’t professional, either.”
Damn it, that hurt a lot more than he wanted it to. “Fine,” he said. “Guess we’re even.”
“Yeah. Even.” She closed her eyes for a second. “Anyway, I was telling Gage that all we have to do is—”
“Hold it right there.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“There is no ‘we’ on this job,” he said. “I might have to let you stick around, but I don’t have to listen to you—and I’m not going to. I can’t see how you haven’t figured this out yet.”
“Then why did you let me take the blueprints home?”
“To get rid of you.”
“Look, I know you don’t like me,” she said. “But I do know a few things about interiors. If you just flip the room, the door opens on the hallway instead of the foyer. You can put another frame right here, see? At this stage, it doesn’t affect anything structurally.”
Reluctantly, he looked where she was pointing. She was right.
That really pissed him off.
“Well, that’s brilliant,” he said. “Flip the room. You must be some kind of architectural genius. Got any more mind-blowing ideas, college girl?”
Her face flushed. “I was only trying to help.”
“Don’t help! I already told you, your job is to stay out of my way.”
“You don’t have to be so awful.”
“Sweetheart, you haven’t seen awful yet. I’m just getting warmed up.”
She stood there a minute, breathing hard and on the verge of tears. Then she rolled up the blueprints without a word and walked away.
Mark made himself count to ten before he moved. If she didn’t quit soon, she was going to kill him—because hurting her like this was a physical pain. The look in her eyes was a knife to his heart. But he didn’t have a choice. The more time he spent around her, the more he wanted her.
And she was the one thing he could never have.
He crossed the yard toward the table, where the rest of them were setting up for lunch. At least Aubrey wasn’t trying to join them. Gage watched him approach warily, and when he reached them said, “So what are we doing?”
“About what?”
“You know. The foyer thing. Whatever that is.”
He clenched his teeth hard enough to feel it at his temples. For a minute he thought he wouldn’t be able to say it. Finally, he snarled, “Flip the goddamned room.” Then he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away.
Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore.
Chapter 6
Day two on the job hadn’t gone any better.
Aubrey had stuck it out the full day on Monday. She’d spent most of it cleaning and organizing the trailer, and she’d even managed to act like everything was going fine when Mrs. V. stopped by for a few minutes to check the progress. She assumed Mark had done the same, since no one had been fired.
She’d come close to quitting yesterday—until she heard the brief exchange that gave her an idea.
The trailer door had been open a little when she came back in after the fight with Mark. She’d been packing up what she brought, and she heard Gage ask what they were doing. Apparently, he really didn’t know what a foyer was. But that didn’t seem to matter. Mark told them to flip the room and left it at that, with no further explanation. He’d obviously known they didn’t need hand-holding or step-by-step instructions.
Of course he’d also been furious about it, and he hadn’t said another word to her for the rest of the day.
The whole thing got her thinking. She suspected the biggest reason he was upset was her talking to Gage without running anything by him—and Mark was supposed to be in charge. With good reason.
She hadn’t admitted it, but the blueprints had really impressed her. At first she’d been suspicious of them. Okay, she thought he had no idea what he was doing. They were hand-drawn, for one thing, and they were raw and uninformed in places. But when she looked closer, she realized that everything was neat, meticulous, and completely original. He wasn’t just a construction foreman. He’d actually designed this project from the ground up.
This meant something to him. And from his perspective, she’d just walked in and started ordering his crew around.
So today she’d tried a different approach. Every so often, she’d catch Mark alone and mention a suggestion or an improvement she’d come up with after studying the blueprints. He’d grunt, or glare at her, or both. He wouldn’t say anything to her. But a few times, she caught him explaining one of her ideas to the others—in terms that were a lot easier to understand than what she’d told him. And he did it grudgingly, like he was talking around a mouthful of soap.
Still, he was listening. Sort of.
By the end of the day, she wasn’t any closer to being part of the team. At least there hadn’t been any more major blowups. He’d tossed out plenty of snide comments about what she was doing with the office, but she’d either ignored him or snarked right back. Eventually he gave up.
She was headed back to the trailer for the cleaning supplies she wasn’t leaving here when she heard voices on the other side, and decided to stop and listen.
“I’m not waiting much longer.” If tigers could talk, she had a feeling they’d sound like Jonah Dawson—deep and rumbling, with a threat underlining every word.
The ensuing sigh came from Mark. “Yes, you are.” He sounded pissed off and exhausted. “I told you, I’m handling this.”
“You’re falling apart,” Jonah said. “And I know you’re not sleeping.”
“Like you ever sleep.”
“I’m used to it. Look, man…if you lose it, this project is finished. And so is the business.”
“I know.” Mark practically spat the words. There was a long pause, and he said, “You’re headed out tonight, right? So I’ll have the place to myself. And y
es, I will relax.”
“Why don’t I believe that?”
“I mean it. No working.”
“Don’t even crack a book open.”
“I’ll watch a movie or something.” Mark paused again. “Too bad we polished off that bottle of Highland Park—when was it, last Christmas? Now that was a good Scotch.”
Jonah laughed. “The bottle’s still there. Gage filled it with Old Crow.”
“Think I’d rather drink gasoline.” The smirk was evident in Mark’s voice. “All right, I’m heading home. You watch yourself out there, man.”
“Always.”
Aubrey heard footsteps and rushed toward the other side of the trailer with a pounding heart. She felt more than a little sick. Mark already told her that she was his problem—but was she really that big of a problem? She wasn’t at the project-ruining, business-destroying level.
But those two seemed to believe she was.
Deciding to worry about the supplies tomorrow, she waited until the coast was clear, and then headed back to her car. It wasn’t like any of them expected her to say goodbye. She got in without incident, drove to her apartment, and went straight for a shower, replaying the overheard conversation in her mind the whole time. There had to be a way to put Mark at ease and finish this job without ruining anything.
Just as she finished getting dressed, her doorbell rang. For one crazy minute she thought it was Mark…actually hoped it was. But he didn’t know where she lived, and he hated her.
She opened the door to Jason, wearing casual clothes and a big grin. “Hey, little sis.”
“You do know you’re only eight minutes older,” she said with a smirk. “Also, I have a phone. You could’ve warned me you were coming by.”
“Hey, do I need a hall pass to visit my sister now?” She thought there was something suspicious in his smile, but it was gone fast. “Anyway, I didn’t come to invade you. I’m here to take you away.”
She frowned. “Where? I didn’t think we’d made plans.”
“It’s kind of spur of the moment,” he said. “A bunch of us are going out to this club in Greenway. Thought you might want to come.” The grin resurfaced as he said, “Stephen Westbrook is going.”
