by Morgan Blaze
His jaw twitched. “I can’t.”
“You can’t what?”
He faced her with a blazing expression. “I can’t do this. You and me? It can’t happen. Christ, why did I ever think—” His shoulders fell. “This was a mistake.”
He might as well have punched her in the gut.
“A mistake,” she said, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. “Whoops, I accidently had sex with you. Is that what this was?”
“Something like that.”
He looked away again, and sick fury welled in her gut. “You did this to make me quit,” she said. “Didn’t you?”
His eyes closed. After an eternity, he said, “Is it working?”
“You son of a bitch.”
He winced. “What did you expect?” he said in strained tones. “I’m a Dawson.”
“Remember earlier, when I said I don’t hate you? I lied.” She stood and dressed as fast as she could. “I’ve always hated you. And I was just horny, so thanks for scratching my itch. Your services are no longer required.”
He turned a dead stare on her. “Same here, sweetheart.”
“You know what? I don’t care if you lose your business. I was hired, and I’m not quitting.” God, why did this have to hurt so much? He obviously didn’t have any problems hurting her. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. “So sleep on that, you bastard.”
She walked away fast, blinded by unshed tears, and nearly walked straight into the door before she managed to fumble it open and bolt for her car. Every word she’d spoken had been a lie. Even though she desperately wanted to hate him, she couldn’t—and that just made everything worse.
Her family was right. The Dawsons were bad news…especially Mark.
* * * *
Mark stayed where he was for a long time, staring at nothing in particular. He’d gotten into more fights than he could remember over the years, and more than once he’d come away bloodied, battered, and broken.
Right now he was completely unscathed—but he’d never been this hurt.
Idiot wasn’t a big enough word for what he’d done. He hadn’t fought the temptation hard enough. She’d showed up at his house, with his favorite whiskey, and said she wanted him. And he should have been stronger and said no.
But he didn’t. So he had to hurt her, in order to save her.
It killed him to do that.
Even if she really did want him, there was no way to make it work. Her family would never stand for it. If they found out she’d been with him, they’d cut her out. And that would hurt her a lot more than he ever could.
He had nothing to offer her. The Monroes had wealth, power, and respect—everything the Dawsons didn’t. Being with him on any level would ruin her life.
So it was better to close things off like this, instead of trying to pretend they had a chance in hell of being together. At least this way, she was only hurt once.
He was pretty sure he’d never stop hurting.
After a while, he made himself get up. The last thing he needed was for Jonah to find him half-naked on the couch and interrogate him into a confession. He dressed stiffly, carried the tumblers into the kitchen, rinsed and put them away. Then he brought the bottle up to his room and locked himself in.
He’d lost all desire to savor the Scotch. Now he only wanted oblivion, and he didn’t care how he got there.
It wouldn’t last long enough—but it was a start.
Chapter 8
Aubrey didn’t sleep at all that night.
She cried herself to exhaustion, but her thoughts wouldn’t stop churning. It had been hard enough trying to deal with every disaster in her life since she came back to Covendale. Now her attempt to fix just one thing had made everything a thousand times worse.
It was enough to make her consider quitting after all. Not just the job, but this town…right now, for good. She must’ve gotten up a dozen times, alternately determined to pack up and leave, or grow a spine and stick it out.
By morning she’d decided that she wasn’t going to work. At least, not right away.
She had a tentative plan. Aching and bleary-eyed, she sat at her kitchen table with a strong cup of coffee and tried to hash it out. First of all, she wouldn’t quit. Staying on the job was the only way she could get back at Mark for what he’d done to her.
But to do that, she had to confront her family.
She couldn’t spend the next two months dodging and evading while she worked with the enemy. The stress was already killing her, and it had only been a few days. Her father and brother would be pissed, but she knew how to diffuse the situation—Mrs. Joliet Vanderbright. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that before.
Mrs. V. had hired the Dawsons, and she was a huge client for the bank. So they wouldn’t risk upsetting her. They’d have to accept the fact that she was working with Dawson Construction at Mrs. V.’s insistence. She’d just go to the bank, where they couldn’t make a scene, and tell them.
Then she’d head back to the job site and shove her continuing employment in Mark’s face.
Covendale Savings and Loan was a sprawling, well-landscaped brick building in the heart of downtown, at the corner of Main and Spring. Aubrey arrived a little after ten, just in case Jason had decided to go in late. Her nerves hummed and fluttered as she parked the car and went inside, but she reminded herself what was at stake here. Pride and peace of mind.
And revenge.
Much like the bar, the bank hadn’t changed in the past eight years. Her attention was drawn to the big, windowed corner office that was Jason’s now, and she saw her brother behind the desk—and her father standing in front of it, talking and laughing.
Perfect. Now if she could just get through this without puking her guts out.
She walked over and opened the door. Both of them turned with identical looks of annoyance that morphed into smiles. “Aubrey!” her father said. “I thought you’d be working right now.”
Jason smirked. “You totally blew me off last night, didn’t you?”
“No, I’m going to work. I just…” She entered the office, closing the door behind her. “Can we talk for a minute?”
“Sure we can.” Roger looked concerned. “Is everything okay? You’re not having trouble with that foreman, are you?”
Am I ever. Aloud she said, “Not exactly. But let’s sit down a minute, all right?”
Frowning, Roger took the chair to the right of the desk, and Aubrey sat in the left-hand chair. “Listen, this is a long story,” she said. “So before either of you say anything, just let me finish.”
“Bree, you’re kind of scaring me,” Jason said.
She sighed. “Calm down. It’s not as bad as you think.” Drawing a deep breath, she plunged ahead. “The foreman’s name isn’t Martin,” she said. “It’s Mark. Mrs. Vanderbright hired Dawson Construction to build her house.”
Her father glared thunder. “She did what?”
“Dad, just listen.” Jason’s reaction worried her more. His expression was completely blank. “You said she’s new in town, right? So she wouldn’t have known about the…family feud. But they’d already been working on the place for weeks before I came in, and Mrs. V. says it’s a package deal. They have to work with me, and I have to work with them.”
“I won’t have you around them,” Roger said. “This is outrageous.”
“You’re the one who got me the job in the first place.” She glanced at Jason, whose features hadn’t changed. “I want to do this,” she said. “She’s paying me a lot, and I need to do a good job here. This is going to be my career.”
“So you’re starting a career with Mark Dawson.” Jason’s voice was thin and tight. “Destroying your reputation, right from the gate.”
“No. I’m starting my career with Joliet Vanderbright.”
“They’re monsters, Bree.”
“Stop it! Both of you.” She looked from Jason to Roger. “You’ve already taken things way too far,” she sai
d. “Did you really threaten Mark with a gun? Because if you did, then I don’t even know you.”
Her father’s mouth worked soundlessly for a minute. Finally, he stared at the floor and said, “It wasn’t loaded. I just…wanted to scare him.”
“Well, don’t.” She frowned briefly. “I don’t like them, but I am working with them. And they don’t make me uncomfortable—you two do.” Clasping her hands together, she leaned forward a little. “This grudge has to end,” she said. “It’s hurting you, all of us, and there’s no reason for it. The man who killed our mother is dead. So please, for my sake…stop hating the Dawsons. Live and let live.”
Roger’s chin trembled, and a tear slid down his cheek. “Seems like I raised a pretty smart daughter,” he said. “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know if I can stop…but I promise to try.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Smiling, she stood and hugged him, then looked at her brother. “Jason? I need you to do this for me, please.”
His gaze narrowed for an instant, and then the blank expression returned. “Sure, sis,” he said. “Consider it done.”
She wasn’t convinced. “You know, I get the feeling if you upset Mrs. V., she’ll pull her accounts. Maybe you should think about that the next time you want to trash someone she’s hired.”
“Yeah.” A little bit of color returned to his cheeks. At least that had gotten through to him. “I think you’re right. We wouldn’t want her upset.”
Aubrey reached over and patted her brother’s arm. “It’s only going to be a few months,” she said. “Then I’m done with them, and we can all go back to normal.”
She said goodbye and headed out, feeling just a little of the weight lifted from her shoulders. The feud wasn’t over—it probably never would be. But at least she’d wrangled a temporary truce. And she’d actually stood her ground against her family for once.
But now she had to deal with Mark Dawson, and she wasn’t sure she was up to the challenge.
* * * *
Aubrey still hadn’t shown up by lunchtime, and Mark wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Logic demanded relief, or at least the hope that she’d actually quit and wouldn’t be back. But he wasn’t buying it.
She was too stubborn to quit—and after last night, she should’ve been here just to piss him off.
Jonah was setting up the table, and he headed over to help. If his older brother suspected anything, positive or negative, he hadn’t brought it up so far. In fact, Mark had barely spoken to anyone today. He didn’t particularly want to discuss Aubrey at all. But he’d have to soon, because she might be up to something.
“You look like hell,” Jonah said as he grabbed a folding chair from the stack by the trailer. “Thought you’d be happy today.”
Mark grunted. “Why would I be?”
“Because she’s not here.”
“Oh. Right.” He frowned at the wariness in his brother’s tone. “I would be, if I thought she was gone for good,” he said. “But I doubt it.”
“You sound way too sure about that,” Jonah said. “Something I don’t know?”
“Yeah. You don’t know how goddamned stubborn she is.” Mark shook his head slowly. “I don’t know what she’s doing, but you can bet it doesn’t involve quitting this job.”
Jonah raised an eyebrow. “Think she’s trying to get us fired?”
Damn it. He hadn’t even considered that possibility. She could do it, too—make up anything she wanted, and tell Mrs. V. just to get rid of them. When it was a Monroe’s word against a Dawson’s, the Monroe won every time. “Maybe I should call the boss,” he said.
“No need.” Jonah pointed to the bright orange Seville pulling up to the curb. “Rich people,” he muttered. “That is one ugly-ass car.”
Mark sighed. “Terrific. Might as well start packing up now.”
“Just see what she wants first. You never know, man.”
“Yeah.” He drew a bracing breath, and walked toward the car expecting the final blow.
Mrs. Vanderbright was already out and smiling by the time he reached the curb. “Good afternoon, dear,” she called. “Have you boys eaten yet?”
He blinked. Definitely not what he expected to hear. “We were just setting up for lunch,” he said carefully. “Want to join us?”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t. I have so much to do today.”
“All right.” He hoped finding a new construction crew wasn’t on her to-do list. “What can I do for you, Mrs. V.?”
She patted the back door of her car. “You can take these boxes and enjoy,” she said. “I stopped by that lovely little bakery on Main Street, and I just couldn’t resist buying a few treats.”
Brow furrowed, he peered through the window and saw four white bakery boxes resting on the back seat. “Sure,” he said. “Which box?”
“All of them.” She winked. “I know you boys must be working up an appetite out here. And everything is just turning out wonderful. I do appreciate what you’re doing, you know.”
“Well, thank you.” This was a little awkward, and he had no idea what to make of it. “But we’re just doing our jobs, Mrs. V.”
“Of course you are. But that isn’t what I meant.”
“It’s not?”
“I suppose it’s time to confess,” she said. “Your work is spectacular, and I’m beyond pleased. But I’m talking about Roger Monroe’s daughter.”
“What about her?”
“Now, there’s no need to panic. I can hear it in your voice, you know.” She reached out and patted his hand. “I know how difficult it is for you to work with her. It may be…unfair of me to have arranged things like this, but I believe it’s for the best in the end.”
“Wait a minute,” he said. “You arranged this?”
Her smile grew wistful. “I know all about your father and Roger’s wife, and the terrible feud you’re going through,” she said. “Roger Monroe is a very unhappy man. And that will never change unless this hatchet between your families is buried.”
“Unhappy,” Mark repeated in hollow tones. His temper was starting to boil, and it took a lot of effort to stay calm. “So you hired her just to force Monroe into dealing with us?”
“No. I hired Aubrey Monroe because she’s a talented designer. Inexperienced, but with a lot of potential.” Mrs. Vanderbright gave him a level stare. “I put her to work with you so her family can see what I already know.”
“Yeah, and what’s that?”
“That you’re good people who’ve gotten some bad breaks, and this town has the Dawsons pegged completely wrong.”
He gaped at her.
“Close your mouth, young man. You’ll draw flies.” Her smile returned, and she looked toward the lunch table. “Where is Aubrey, by the way? Doesn’t she eat lunch?”
“Er. She, um…” Before he could think of a plausible lie, he heard an approaching engine and saw her car pulling up behind his. He never thought he’d be relieved to see Aubrey Monroe. “She’s right there,” he said.
“Wonderful. I’ll just say hello before I have to rush off.”
Mark’s heart lurched painfully. He had a feeling this was not going to be a pretty scene, and it just figured that Mrs. V. would be here to witness it. Right after she’d proclaimed her knowledge of their family history and said how much she appreciated them getting along. Well, she was about to be proven wrong.
Aubrey got out of the car and headed for them, practically beaming. But there was something forced about her expression—like if she stopped smiling, her face might fall off. “Mrs. V., I didn’t expect you here,” she called. “Hello, Mark. Sorry I’m late.” She stopped in front of them, and added, “I hope I didn’t miss much.”
“Not really.” He managed to sound somewhat normal.
“Mark and I were just discussing you and your family,” Mrs. V. said.
Aubrey blinked twice. “What a coincidence,” she said. “Because that’s where I was—talking to them. I just told my father and Jas
on who I’m working with. They didn’t know before.”
“You didn’t,” Mark blurted before he could stop himself. “I mean…you didn’t call or anything. So I wasn’t sure where you were. Did they…”
She turned a thousand-watt smile on him. “Everything’s fine, sweetheart.”
Warning bells shrieked through his brain. Before he could react—right in front of his employer, and worse…his brothers—she put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him.
Damn it. He was going to have a lot of explaining to do.
“Well, I’d better get to work.” Aubrey stepped back, smiling as if she’d just won the lottery. “I missed the morning, so I’ll need to catch up. Nice to see you, Mrs. V.” With a little wave, she headed for the trailer and didn’t look back.
Mrs. Vanderbright laughed. “I see you’re getting along much better than I thought,” she said. “Why don’t you grab these boxes, dear? It looks like you’ll need a peace offering.”
“Right.” He didn’t dare look at his brothers. Especially Jonah. “Thank you. I think.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll thank me someday.”
He held back a groan and opened the car door. If he ever did appreciate this, it definitely wouldn’t be today.
* * * *
There. That should take care of Mark Dawson.
Aubrey didn’t speak to the others, even though they stared at her as she walked past. Her heart was in her throat, beating too fast and making her dizzy. She couldn’t believe she’d actually done it.
She made it into the trailer and collapsed at the desk. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the only plan she could come up with. She’d never be able to out-stubborn him. So she decided to try killing him with kindness, so to speak.
And never, ever sleeping with him again.
Okay, maybe it was the best sex of her life. Maybe she had a few real feelings for him, after she’d gotten to know the person behind the thug in senior year. At least she thought she had. But even if her family went insane and decided tomorrow that henceforth the Monroes and the Dawsons would be best friends forever, she was not getting involved with Mark.
