A twinge shot through my arm, and with a groan, I reached for the Tylenol, swallowing a couple of tablets with some warm water from a bottle on my desk. The compact refrigerator was too far away to get a cold bottle.
I dropped my head to my chest, and I inhaled long, slow, deep breaths. I centered my thoughts and focused on the air that entered and exited my lungs. I worked my way through the pain and let the medication take the edge off.
I flexed my left hand, wondering if I needed to go see the doctor again, or if it was a simple case of working too much. This job involved a lot of demolition and moving of walls, heavy lifting, and long hours. All work I loved and excelled at, but I was tired.
Maybe I was getting too old for this shit. Sometimes thirty-nine felt ancient.
The sound of a throat clearing startled me, and as my eyes flew open, I knocked over the empty bottle on the edge of my desk. In my doorway stood Liv. The light from the hall highlighted the bright glints in her light brown hair, creating a halo around her face. Short and curvy, she was dressed in her usual work clothes. A long, loose shirt over dark leggings. Her hair was always up in a knot or a long braid flung over one shoulder, the way it was tonight. Without looking, I knew her feet would be encased in either flat shoes or high-top sneakers. When we were on working job sites, she wore steel-toed boots on her small feet, which, along with the hard hat perched on top of her hair, I found incredibly sexy.
A fact I never shared.
Our relationship was strictly professional.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I thought I was alone,” I admitted. “You’re here late. Everything okay?”
She hesitated in the doorway until I waved her in.
“Catching up on a few things. Did you see Bentley’s earlier email?” she asked.
“No, I’ve been demolishing the Randall place all day. I haven’t checked email.” I grinned. “What’s he got his eye on now?”
She slid into a chair in front of my desk, folding her legs under her. She reminded me of a cat curling into a basket the way she tucked herself into the large chair. I knew she did it due to the fact that her feet didn’t hit the floor when she sat in that chair. I also knew it was her favorite in the office. It was comfortable. God knew I’d dozed off in it more than once.
“He found a cabin on the Niagara River. It’s on a bluff—the view is astounding, but the cabin is in bad shape. He wants us to look at it. He isn’t sure if it should be demolished or redone.”
“How did he find it?”
“He spotted it from a boat they were on this past weekend. He tracked down the owner. Apparently, it’s been deserted for a while and needs, in his words, some TLC.”
I chuckled. “Only Bentley would notice a run-down cabin and get interested while out with his wife. I bet Emmy was impressed. He probably started searching immediately.”
Liv smiled, the action transforming her features. She was quietly pretty, with wide eyes that were an unusual golden-brown color with a black ring on the outside of the iris, making them stand out. Her creamy skin had a wide expanse of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her lips were plump and full, a deep pink in color—a fact I found intriguing. I always wanted to know if her lips would stay that color after being kissed or go an even deeper hue.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts, concentrating on her smile. It lit up her face, crinkled her eyes, and caused two deep dimples to appear in her cheeks. It didn’t happen often, but it was a thing of beauty to witness.
“He said in his email he took pictures and had Aiden and Reid start digging into the history. The owner inherited the cabin from his grandfather and has no interest in it. He lives in the States and only remembers how difficult it was to get to the cabin and how boring it was to stay there when he was a kid. He had a few renos done and rented it out in the summers for a few years, but he found it too much trouble, and it’s sat empty for the past while.”
“Huh. It must be worth a lot with the land.”
“No doubt Bentley made him a fair offer. Once BAM develops the whole concept, it’ll be worth more.”
I groaned. “He already bought it? Sight unseen?”
“Yep.”
“So, either way, we have another job.” I looked at the various folders on my desk. “Is it a priority?”
“No. But he wants us to go with him to see it in a couple of weeks and give him our thoughts.”
I grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a note to myself. Liv snickered as I turned, looking for a tack to add it to the various other notes pinned to the bulletin board behind me.
“Your computer could keep better track for you.” She shook her head. “I have a terrible memory at times. My mom always swore I would forget my head if it weren’t screwed on. I forget things all the time if I don’t put them in my calendar or use notes on my phone.”
I shook my head. “I hate them. I have to use one here for things, but I prefer my own system.”
“You call that a system?”
“It works.”
“Reid must hate coming in here.”
It was my turn to laugh. Reid was the IT genius of BAM—his brilliant mind was ten steps ahead of everyone else, and our systems were incredible thanks to him.
“Reid and I get along fine. I use what I have to use for all the business stuff. And I’ll add it to my notes in my phone, but I prefer the old-fashioned ways of doing things. I have a laptop at home I rarely open.”
“No social media stuff?”
“Nope. Nothing. No Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. None of it.”
“I get that. I hate texting, although everyone does it.” Her brow furrowed. “What about your gigs?”
I lifted my shoulder, trying not to wince. It still ached. “One of the other guys posts stuff. I go to play and enjoy the music. I let them handle it. When I do a solo gig, if there is someone I want there, I let them know. Otherwise, I just play. It’s not about the crowds or the money…”
“It’s about the music,” she finished for me.
“Yeah.”
She frowned, looking worried. “Are you okay? You keep wincing.”
“Little stiff, that’s all. Long day.”
“Are you overdoing it?”
I was touched by her concern. “I’m fine, Liv. I have an old injury that flares up at times if I push too hard. We were drywalling a ceiling today and I was a man short, so more lifting. It’ll be fine tomorrow.”
“Massage.”
“Pardon?”
“Massage would help. Some simple yoga stretches would keep the muscles loose too.”
I cleared my throat. “Ah, yoga?”
I was gifted another one of her smiles and quiet laughter. “I know you work out a lot with Aiden. But yoga does wonders for your body. It helps me a great deal.”
I tried not to imagine her doing yoga. In my mind, the loose shirt and leggings were replaced with a tight shirt and shorts. I had seen her once in a dress. It had hugged the curves she kept hidden and showed off her shapely legs, emphasized her heavy breasts and hourglass figure. It had been the first time I had noticed how incredibly attractive she was and made me wonder why she kept her beauty hidden. The thought of her body stretching and bending while doing yoga was enough to set my imagination flying and allow the thoughts I kept locked away to escape. Watching her bend and stretch, her body arching. Seeing her skin glisten with moisture. Joining her on the mat and showing her a whole new workout routine that ended up with me inside her and my name falling from her lips.
“Van?”
I startled, realizing my head had fallen back and my eyes had drifted shut. I was fantasizing about Liv’s body and fucking her.
What the hell was going on with me tonight?
I sat up, shaking my head and fumbling for words.
“Yeah, ah, sorry. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”
“I have the name of a great masseuse if you decide
you want to try it. Eve is awesome.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
There was a pause before she spoke. “You look really tired.”
“This project is a lot of work.” I chuckled as I tugged on my hair, and a piece of drywall compound hit my desk. “And messy.”
She laughed, the sound melodic. “Part of the job. Last week, I was painting a room with Kim. I bent over to get a spot I missed, and she bumped into me. I went around the rest of the day with deep turquoise all over the top of my head. Took me forever to scrub it out. Sammy wanted me to leave it in. She thought it was cool.”
I caught the undercurrent of affection when she mentioned her five-year-old daughter. I had only met her once, but she was a cute kid. Polite and quiet. She looked like Liv, except her eyes were dark. I knew nothing about Sammy’s father, other than he was out of the picture and Liv raised her on her own. Her mother helped her out a lot and was close to them both, but aside from some humorous stories Liv would share, that was all I knew.
“I bet she did.”
“I had to tell her my boss preferred me without turquoise hair.”
“Bummer.”
Laughing, she stood and slid her hands down the front of her shirt to smooth the wrinkles. I tried not to imagine what her curves would feel like under my hands.
“You should head home and get some rest. I need to go too,” she stated.
“Big plans?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
She shook her head. “I have to pick up Sammy soon. Mom took her to a birthday party that involved pizza and the early movie, so I took advantage and caught up with some work.”
“Ah.”
I didn’t ask her any questions. Liv was intensely private, much like myself, so I never pried.
Our relationship was, after all, strictly professional.
She smiled. “At least it’s the weekend. You can rest.”
“Yeah, thank goodness for that.”
She walked toward the door, pausing. “Voltaren cream works really well on joints.”
I didn’t bother telling her I had a cupboard full of medications and creams to try to help with the aches. “Thanks.”
Her phone slipped from her hand, and she bent over to grab it. The action caused her shirt to ride up, giving me a long glimpse of her ass. Her spectacular, full, round ass.
Suddenly I wanted to jump out of my chair and cross the room. Grab her ass and stroke it. Bite it. Lift her into my arms and use my desk as a place to sit her sweet ass on while I fucked her.
She stood, the movement interrupting my lust-filled thoughts. Her brow furrowed as she took in my expression, then she lifted her hand with a quick wave.
“Have a good weekend, Van. I hope your shoulder feels better.”
I returned her wave with one of my own, unable to speak, confused at the sudden onslaught of sex-driven thoughts when it came to Liv.
Thoughts I would never act on.
I yanked on my hair in frustration. I needed to get laid. That was the problem. It had been a while. A long while. I frowned as I tried to remember. The last woman I had been with was…
Fuck. I couldn’t even remember. I stared at the ceiling, trying to recall. It had been last year. Early last year. Sometime before Liv started with BAM.
What the coincidence had to do with it, I had no idea, but somehow the fact stuck in my mind.
Liv.
Pretty, funny, caring, and untouchable.
She was a coworker. Younger than me by seven years. A mother. Sweet, kind, and thoughtful. The kind of woman you didn’t mess around with. She was a forever, not a right now.
And I didn’t do forever. I tried it once and it failed.
Our relationship would stay professional.
It was the way it had to be.
I felt another ache start as memories of the past began to surface. The dark ones that pulled me in and reminded me why I chose to be alone.
Why I would never allow my heart to dictate my life.
Van
I couldn’t sleep. No matter what I tried, nothing helped. The long, hot shower I took after I got home barely took the edge off the constant ache. I had rubbed the pain-relief ointment into my shoulders and legs, swallowed more medication, but still, the throbbing persisted. Although I didn’t usually like being touched by strangers, the thought of someone working out the kinks in my neck and shoulders tempted me. Giving up on sleep, I sat up in bed, swinging my legs out and sitting on the edge of the mattress.
I would text Liv and ask for the number.
Liv.
She had been on my mind all night. Why I had no idea, but for some reason, the past couple of months, she’d slipped into my thoughts more than I cared to admit.
I liked working with her. She was bright and creative. She had a way of studying a room, or a drawing, and then with a few strokes of her hands, transforming a plain space into something beautiful. She could take the darkest spot and bring light into it. Change the feel and composition of an area with color and material. Her visions were incredible. She was patient and quiet—and a good listener. Clients loved her. Bentley trusted her completely, always accepting her vision of any project without question. We were lucky to have her at BAM. Her staff thought highly of her, and she treated them well. Level-headed and tolerant, she treated everyone around her with courtesy and respect. We had a great working relationship, one of mutual admiration. Our interactions were easy and filled with humor.
Yet lately, I had been wanting something different. I wanted to get to know her. Delve into the private person behind the loose clothing, extraordinary eyes, and brilliant mind and find Liv. It was an odd sensation—one I had never thought I would experience again. Something I wasn’t sure I should allow myself to attempt. Yet, the feeling persisted. There was something about her that drew me to her, and it had only grown in the months I had known her, no matter how I tried to fight it—or deny it. Maybe I was tired of fighting it. Or maybe I was finally ready to try again. All I knew was that for the first time in years, I wanted something more. I wanted her. She was sweet, intelligent, and articulate. Sexy as hell with an understated beauty I found intriguing. It was a wicked combination.
In the bathroom mirror, I studied my face. I looked tired, the lines around my eyes more prominent than usual. The long scar across my shoulder and arm was puckered and twisted—a reminder of why getting close to someone wasn’t a good idea. I scrubbed at my face, too exhausted to bother trying to shave, and stepped into the shower, adjusting the water as hot as I could stand it, hoping another shower would help dispel the aches. Bracing my arms against the tile, I rolled my shoulders, letting the heat soak in and loosen my muscles. I stood there until the water became tepid, then quickly washed and shut off the tap. The room was steamy, the condensation running down the glass, endless rivulets of water going nowhere.
Sort of like my life.
* * *
Too restless to stay home, I went into the office. As usual this early on a Saturday, Toronto was quieter, traffic thinner, and I arrived quickly. I parked my truck by the loading dock, somehow not surprised to see Jordan’s SUV parked in its spot. Grateful the café in the building opened early, even on a Saturday, I went directly there, grabbing coffee and a box of the pastries we devoured on a regular basis. Rhonda, the owner, grinned at me as she handed me the box.
“Fueling up for a busy day, Van?”
“They’re not all for me.” I winked.
Her husband, Bob, chuckled as he passed me the tray with four coffees. “And these aren’t all yours?”
“Jordan’s around somewhere. I’m sure some of the crew will wander in, and I never know when Aiden is going to show up.”
Rhonda laughed, tucking a strand of white hair behind her ear. “That man and his lemon Danish. I put three in the box in case.”
I slid the coffee tray on top of the box of pastries. “Thanks, Rhonda.”
“Anytime.”
I cut through the back
of the hall, using my pass to get through the door that led to the private part of the BAM building. In our office, Jordan had his head bent over a stack of paperwork, the pile of completed documents beside him as large as the one he was currently working on. I hated paperwork, but Jordan excelled at it, making sure we were covered for permits, licenses, agreements, anything we needed to complete a job and stay on track. He handled it all with his exacting attention to detail and calm attitude.
“You look like you need this as much as I do.” I interrupted him.
He glanced up, his green eyes tired behind his glasses. But his smile was warm and approachable, and he greeted me with his usual affability.
“You are a life-saver.”
I handed him a coffee and popped open the box of pastries. He took a cherry Danish and bit into it with a groan. “Manna from heaven.”
I snagged a lemon, my favorite as well as Aiden’s, and chewed the fresh, sweet pastry with appreciation. I sat at my desk, sipped my coffee, and ate two pastries.
“What you are working on?”
“More Ridge Towers. Phase Two. Plus going over the new plans for Ridge Estates.” He chuckled and finished his Danish, wiping his mouth. “The boys are keeping me busy.”
“They always do.”
He sorted through his pile of folders and handed me a gray-colored stack. Every person had their own color. “These are yours for the next few flips you’ll be working on. Everything is in order.”
I took the files. “Awesome.”
“I haven’t had a chance to delve into Bentley’s new acquisition.”
“The deserted cabin?”
“Yes.” He shook his head. “Only Bentley.”
“Exactly what I said.”
He picked up his pen, laughing. “Great job security.”
I turned to my desk, flipping open the first file. “That it is.”
I worked for the next while, sorting and listing the projects, making notes and entering information into my laptop and adding it to my calendar. Despite my teasing with Liv, I did use the technology to my advantage for work. I still preferred my handwritten notes, but only I saw those. My crew and Jordan could access the details when needed on the shared drive. Jordan worked for another hour, then left, although he grabbed a croissant before heading out.
Vested Interest Box Set Books 4-7 Page 26
