True North

by Amy Knupp

  Cole hadn’t had that. He hadn’t trusted anyone enough to let them really get to know him and his differences. Ever, she realized now. Not the kids at school, not his brothers, not his coworkers, not any women along the way.

  Her heart ached for him, for the loneliness he must feel. And the fear, still today, he apparently felt about letting someone know him.

  That he had opened up this much to her made her breath catch. She instinctively knew it was more than he’d let anyone else in, and that was likely what caused him to panic at her place the other night.

  “Have you ever spent an entire night with a woman?” she asked, remembering their conversation from the other night and suspecting his answer before he said it.

  He blew out a humorless laugh. “No.”

  “But you think you can do it tonight?” she asked gently, all hints of her earlier refusal to leave gone.

  “I want to, but…” He went silent and she waited for the but.

  “Cole?”

  “I don’t want to mislead you.”

  “You don’t want me to think we’re in a relationship. Because you don’t do relationships. Because they’re confusing.”

  He laughed a little. “You definitely get full credit for listening. But where do we draw the line? I like being with you. I love the hell out of ravishing you. But I’m not capable of anything more.”

  “Maybe I’m not asking for anything more.”

  Yet.

  She wanted more. It was suddenly clear how much she wanted more, but also evident was that she’d have to give him time to ease into it. The smallest bit of pressure and he’d shut her out. She was beginning to understand how right Hayden was about playing it cool.

  “Maybe you should tell me exactly what you’re asking for then,” he said, and it felt like a victory that he was even asking. If she could lay it out as facts, not feelings, maybe he would feel okay about this. About them.

  “Well,” she said, trailing her finger over his chest, back and forth, reveling in the textures of muscle and masculine hair, “sex is good.”

  “I can’t argue with that. I could have sex with you every night, but then it starts to seem like a relationship.”

  “And we can’t have that,” she said, making her tone light. “So sex but not every night. And maybe dinner sometimes so we don’t start feeling cheap.”

  Another quiet laugh rumbled out of him. “Maybe I should write this down. Put a list on my phone.”

  She flicked his chest. “Don’t you dare. The whole point is it’s casual. It’s no-obligation. All we have to do is communicate. If you don’t feel like spending time with me, tell me. If you do, tell me. Let’s just take it one day at a time.”

  “One day at a time and communicate,” he repeated, seeming to consider. “I think I can do that.”

  “You’re pretty smart,” she said, grinning, relaxing a little for now, though she wasn’t under any illusion that getting what she wanted, more of Cole, was going to be easy. She herself wasn’t all about jumping into something serious, but she liked him a lot. Wanted more of him. A lot more. If she really thought about how much she wanted him in her life, it could get scary fast, so she didn’t think about it.

  One day at a time.

  “Today is yes to sex,” he said, the lightheartedness creeping back into his voice.

  “Definite yes.” She moved her hand down his abdomen to his man parts and found the main attraction stirring, already semihard. “And if you can make it through the whole night without kicking me out, tomorrow morning is looking pretty good too.”

  He groaned as she grasped him, a sexy, drawn-out sound that checked in directly with her hormones. “That’s a pretty good incentive.”

  “Pretty good?” She took her hand away.

  “The best,” he rumbled, his smile evident.

  A girl couldn’t ask for much more than that. For now.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  There was nothing Cole liked to watch more than Sierra in her element, and she was full-on in her element right now. In her element and flying high, as she should be after yesterday’s news that she, or they as she insisted, had been selected as one of three finalists in the Eldridge competition after the second round, the interview stage.

  Sierra had shined, charmed, and impressed with her knowledge and experience during the recorded interview—Cole had been on-site for moral support and watched on a monitor. He could fully cop to being biased, but obviously the unbiased production people and probably Eldridge himself agreed with him that she could carry any show they wanted to give her—as well as any renovation project.

  Today, they’d been granted entry into the Eldridge Mansion, along with the other finalists, in order to survey, measure, research, and plan for the final stage of the competition—full business proposals.

  “Cole!” Sierra grasped his arm as they walked from the rear hall on the main floor into what appeared to be a den. “Look at the two-sided fireplace. That must be the living room on the other side.”

  He followed her to the fireplace and ran his hand over the drywall. “I wonder if there are bricks under here.”

  “There has to be. My grandpa nearly stroked out whenever someone put drywall over bricks. He always said bricks are like glimpses of the building’s soul.”

  He couldn’t help a grin at the drama in her voice. No one was as animated as Sierra when it came to her favorite subject.

  It’d been nearly three weeks since they’d started sleeping together, nearly twenty-one days of one-day-at-a-timing it. It made him sweat a little to think about how many of those nights had been a yes, some at his place, some at hers. Probably too many to be considered casual or a non-relationship. So he made a point of not thinking about the big picture and instead focusing on the moments. Because the moments with Sierra were so damn good.

  He’d taken her to Sunshine’s to meet Winona, who’d of course loved her. And contrary to what he’d feared, Sierra had embraced both Winona and her dim, outdated bar with its rough patrons.

  Work-wise, they’d been swamped and spread thin. The Draper project, thanks to every kind of unforeseen challenge you could think of, had run a week and a half longer than planned. Sierra felt strongly about starting the next project, a full renovation of a historical bank building, on time, so they’d divided the crew between the two, with Cole overseeing the Draper site and Sierra at the bank. In general, he and Sierra didn’t make a habit of splitting up—in fact, they generally only scheduled one project at a time—but because the Draper shit show had eaten up the contingency days and then some, they’d done what was necessary to try to keep everyone happy. The result was that he saw her less during the day, and though he missed her, he suspected it was just as well. It was getting harder to keep things strictly professional when they woke up together several mornings each week.

  Cole was inspecting the window trim in the den—it had suffered water damage and would need to be replaced, along with the window—when he felt Sierra’s arms wrap around him from behind. He twisted to face her, glancing around to verify that no one could see them. Though Carlos and Troy weren’t due to show up for another half hour or so, the only two they could spare from the bank site today, teams from the other two finalists were here, taking notes and measuring as well.

  He pressed a quick kiss to Sierra’s forehead and nonchalantly slipped out of her arms. “Nine-foot ceilings make it seem bigger, especially with the tall windows. The crown molding will need to be replaced.”

  “I agree,” she said from behind him, a hint of confusion in her voice, which had to be because he’d walked away. She was rarely confused about a renovation project. “Colonial revival molding, for sure.”

  She pulled out her measuring tape, as she’d done in every room so far, and together they measured everything—twice—from the windows to the fireplace to the room size.

  “What do you think about some built-in shelves on this wall?” Cole said, imagining the room with a littl
e less space and thinking it would only add to the coziness of it.

  Sierra came over to him, so close he caught her Creamsicle scent and, in spite of himself, imagined pressing her up against the wall and devouring her with his mouth. He wouldn’t, not here, but he thought about it in graphic detail for the seconds Sierra took to consider his shelf idea.

  “I think,” she said slowly, her eyes starting on the wall behind him and then veering up to his face, a flirtatious sparkle in them, “that a man who likes to read is super hot.” She ran her hands up his chest, went up on her tiptoes, and planted a kiss on his lips.

  He was drawn in for a few seconds, unable to pull himself away from her tempting body, her sexy onslaught. Footsteps on the creaky floor above them pulled him back to the reality of where they were and what they needed to be doing. It wasn’t kissing, but they could make time for that later.

  Again, Cole ended the kiss. “As much as it pains me, this isn’t the place. Carlos and Troy are due any minute.

  “So?” Sierra smiled up at him, her cheeks rosy, stray strands of her hair around her face shifting with every movement.

  “It’s not a good idea for the rest of the crew to find out about us.”

  Her smile faded as she seemed to really think about it. She blew out a breath. “You’re no fun,” she said in a pout.

  “I’m lots of fun when I’m off the clock.”

  With a flirty grin, she said, “Yes, you are.” The grin faded again. “And you’re probably right about keeping it private.”

  He leaned his back against the wall, increasing the space between them, because no matter how much he believed they shouldn’t be all over each other here, there was always a pull, anytime she was nearby. “Of course I’m right,” he said lightly. “We don’t want to make any of the crew feel uncomfortable.”

  “We don’t.” She took a half step back herself, obviously disappointed, and he hated that, but he knew she’d regret it if their sleeping together affected her business.

  Beyond that, there was also a faint voice in his head that said if the guys he worked with every day found out, then there’d be expectations. Whatever he and Sierra had going on between them would then become a thing, a defined thing, a more-than-one-day-at-a-time thing, and Cole wasn’t ready for that. Wasn’t sure when or if he would be. He fully recognized his asshole was showing with that, wasn’t proud of it, but he’d never misled Sierra about what he was up for.

  He straightened, and she still had her gaze glued on him. “I guess your smarts are part of what I like about you,” she said begrudgingly, but her lips were once again flirting with a smile.

  “It doesn’t mean it’s easy for me to keep my hands off you,” he said honestly, his fingers itching to brush back a stray strand of hair that had fallen over her cheek.

  He stepped away from her, breathing through the urge and pulling out his phone to check the app where he was recording all the data. They had what they needed in this room.

  “Ready for the living room?” he asked her.

  “Yes, Mr. Foreman. Let’s get this done so we can go home and I can ravish you.”

  No way in hell Cole could argue with that as he led her into the next room and ignored the faint pulse of discomfort deep inside his screwed-up brain.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Cole hadn’t been to the corporate office of North Brothers Sports since he was a kid. Nothing had changed, at least on the outside. Same nondescript building, same suite on the second floor. Well, the suite had expanded to take up the entire second floor, but beyond that, even the faint old-office-building odor was familiar if not welcome.

  He exited the elevator and paused outside the door of the main reception area, which also hadn’t evolved. The logo on the door had been updated, probably more than once, though Cole didn’t keep up with it, but beyond that, the sameness took him back to the time when he’d been young enough to get excited about visiting his parents’ workplace. He’d been ten or eleven the last time and had shadowed his dad for an entire day—a take-your-kid-to-work day—and back then, Cole had thrived on it. Welcomed the time away from school, where he didn’t fit in, welcomed the special treatment at his dad’s company, where he was the boss’s son.

  Shit. Nostalgia blindsided him, rolled through him like an undertow that could either take him where he needed to be or pull him under and drown him. Swallowing, he shoved the emotion aside as he opened the door.

  It was after six p.m., so the receptionist’s desk was deserted. He hesitated, unsure where to go, annoyed with Mason for not being more specific when he’d called earlier today and asked Cole to meet tonight, saying he had something urgent to discuss. Cole and Sierra had stayed at the mansion until they and the other finalists were kicked out at five, then he’d rushed home for a quick shower before heading here—instead of the ravishing they’d discussed earlier.

  With no idea whether the CEO’s suite was in the same spot as two decades ago—back corner on the left—Cole meandered that way through a nondescript hallway formed on one side by high cubicle walls. He could sense there were a few employees still at their desks on the other side of the wall, but he didn’t come into contact with anyone directly, which suited him. Though he’d cleaned up, put on non-work jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, he felt like an interloper.

  He reached the corner office that had once belonged to his dad, and there was his oldest brother, still wearing his suit, jacket and all, sitting at the polished mahogany desk that had been their father’s, chair swiveled around to face the bank of windows as he spoke on the phone. Cole knocked lightly on the doorjamb to let Mason know he was there, feeling vaguely like he had countless times in his adolescence when he’d been sent to the principal’s office. Mason spun around and nodded him in as he ended his call.

  “Hey,” Cole said as he sat in one of the visitor chairs opposite Mason. “What’s up?”

  “Thanks for coming in, Cole,” Mason said, sounding businesslike and formal and yet as if he truly appreciated it.

  “It’s been a while. A couple of decades since I’ve been here. Kind of a mind fuck.”

  Mason looked around briefly, as if trying to see it through Cole’s eyes. “Things have changed, huh?”

  “And yet they haven’t.” Cole shook his head, again trying to escape the unexpected emotions that swept through him—surprisingly, not all of them bad. “You said you had something urgent.”

  Mason grinned. “Straight to business. I like that.”

  “Have to admit I’m curious.”

  Mason straightened in his chair, pulled up closer to the desk. “I told you we’re working on expanding outside of the state. It’s happening even faster than I expected. Today we finalized a deal for four new stores, two in Florida and one each in Alabama and Kentucky.”

  “Congrats,” Cole said, not surprised at all. When Mason set his mind to something, he did it. Always had.

  “Thanks. All four locations are existing buildings, and they need various amounts of work. We’d like to get at least two of them open before the holidays.”

  “Christmas is only six weeks away. Are you talking you just need to clean things up and put up signage or—”

  “The insides need to be gutted on two and partially renovated on the other two. We’ve already been working with architects and the plans are close to finalized.”

  “No way it could happen before Christmas if they weren’t,” Cole said.

  “We took a gamble and proceeded before the deals were finalized. Happy to say everything worked out. Now we need someone to oversee all four renovations, and that’s why I called you.”

  Cole raised his eyebrows, intrigued in spite of himself.

  “I don’t have the time to do it, and neither does anyone else. Besides that, I don’t have the expertise that will come in handy to get these turned around so quickly. You do.”

  Cole nodded, waiting for Mason to say more.

  Mason grabbed a manila folder from the side of h
is desk, opened it, slid a couple of sheets of paper across to Cole’s side. It was an offer of employment for the position of special projects manager. Cole skimmed over the first page, noting it was a permanent position, that the person who took it would be based at the corporate office but would travel to sites as necessary, and that the salary was almost double what he was currently making. The money was good but not something that would make him drop everything and take it. He made a comfortable living working for Sierra, as his rent was dirt cheap—Winona had barely raised it over the years he’d lived there—and he wasn’t a big spender. But he couldn’t deny his interest was sparked anyway.

  “So I’d be the foreman at each project?” he asked, trying to wrap his head around exactly what Mason was looking for. There was a description of duties, he realized, on the second page, and he’d pore over that later.

  “More like the supervisor of the foremen. You’ll hire a contractor for each project, and you’ll be the liaison. You won’t be able to be four places at once, but I want you to be in constant contact with all of them and riding them as hard as necessary to make sure everything is done to our specifications on our timeline.”

  “And when the four projects are complete?”

  “There will be more,” Mason said. “We have a corporate remodel in the plans, and our expansion plan for the next five years is aggressive. You might even need to hire an assistant down the road.”

  Cole sat back, holding the offer, flipping between the two pages even though he wasn’t really paying attention to the words on the paper as his thoughts spun.

  “I’d report directly to you?” he said as that part of the offer came into focus.

  “That’s how we have it structured right now. It could change.” Mason sat back in his chair, studied Cole. “Is that a problem?”

  “I don’t know,” Cole said honestly. “I don’t think so, as long as you’re not going to micromanage me and make me wonder why the hell you bothered to hire me.”