“I accept your apology.” A smile touched her lips. “I never could stay mad at you for long.”
“True, but you always did make me pay first.”
Her brow lifted. “I made sure the punishment fit the crime.”
“Sure you don’t want me on my knees?”
The sexual tide surged and caught fire. Suddenly her body softened, ripening for his touch. The image of him on his knees before her, pulling down her jeans, giving her pleasure, made her sway slightly. His eyes darkened. “Ah, I see you do like that idea,” he murmured. “I’ll have to remedy my apology.”
Pink flushed her cheeks. “Stop.”
“You won’t say that to me later.”
He’d always been extremely sexual, and she’d always responded with ease. It was no different years later. The only thing that stopped her from stepping into his embrace and calling him on his dare was the presence of the trucks parked outside and the workers still tromping through the site. His gaze promised their discussion wasn’t over.
She was looking forward to continuing it.
“Tris! Syd! Where are you guys?”
They headed toward the familiar voice and greeted Brady and Charlie. Sydney noticed they were holding hands. The pairing had astonished her at first. Brady was ten years older, with a defined view of how women acted in a romantic relationship. His Latino heritage and his strict father had limited his acceptance of a woman daring to challenge him, teaching him to prefer demure, submissive, and conservative females to pursue romantically.
Charlie was the complete opposite.
At twenty-five, she was addicted to her job and looked barely legal. With generous curves, a teen-type wardrobe, and long, straight honey-blond hair, she’d driven Brady nuts her first six months at the company. They’d fought consistently, challenging each other on various projects, while everyone stepped back and watched the fireworks.
Guess the real problem was they were crazy about each other. Once they stopped fighting their feelings, a true love had blossomed between them. Sydney had never seen the architect so happy with a woman she would’ve sworn was his opposite. It was another lesson learned.
Sometimes love was just meant to be.
“Is everything okay at the office?” she asked.
Charlie gave her a thumbs-up. “Yes. I have a bunch of contracts and invoices for you to look at. I put them in chronological order on your desk.”
Brady grinned. “She was dying to get out here and get dirty,” he explained. “The idea of so many houses being renovated without her made her a bit itchy.”
Charlie nodded. “Guilty as charged. Could you use the extra help?”
The woman loved rehabbing houses like some women loved diamonds. She also had a gift for knowing which features could be saved in a house and which needed to go. In under a year, she’d gone from intern to full-time, and Pierce Brothers was lucky to have her.
“Are you kidding? All hands on deck. Would love you to take a look at house number seven and give me some feedback on design.”
Her hazel eyes filled with zeal. “I’m on it.”
“I’m sorry I had to contain you in the office, Charlie. I can always look to hire someone else part-time.”
Charlie waved a hand in the air. “I don’t mind at all. I think it’ll be a great way to learn more about the business. My uncle used to say work the paperwork from the bottom up to learn what you need before going out in the field. But at least I’ll get my hands on one of these babies on weekends.”
Brady shook his head. “Why do I have a feeling I’ll have to turn into a crappy house to get some attention from you now?”
Charlie laughed. “Babe, you’re the one I’m coming home to. Think of all the aggression I’ll get rid of destroying the walls and ripping out cabinets.”
Brady grunted. “Maybe I can be convinced.”
Tristan groaned. “I’m getting a cavity right now. Time to turn in your man card.”
Brady gave him the finger.
Tristan laughed. “Fine. While you’re here, let’s go over the tweaked plans for the fireplace and the outside wall in this one. Follow me.”
They spent the next hour gathering feedback on some outstanding issues. Sydney was excited about Charlie’s vision for number seven, which included a bolder design aesthetic paired with brand-new dark wood floors. They didn’t want a row of houses that looked too alike, or it would lower the price. No one wanted to feel like they were living in the same house as their neighbors. Charlie had a brilliant outlook on how to tweak a budget. She was one of the most budget-conscious women Sydney had ever met.
Charlie just laughed and called herself cheap.
When Brady and Charlie finally left, the other workers had gone, leaving the abandoned block in a quiet that hummed with exhausted energy. Sydney gave out a sigh. Her whole body hurt, and there were weeks of the same ambitious schedule unfolding ahead. Still, satisfaction flowed in the way hard work cleansed the soul. She headed toward the kitchen to grab her clipboard. Tristan followed. “I may have to rely on pizza delivery to get through this project. Thank God for chicken fingers and pasta to round things out.”
“I think you owe me that dinner tonight.”
She glanced over. He was studying her intently, as if he’d easily peeled off the surface and dove deep into her soul. A shudder wracked her. She couldn’t keep the truth from him for much longer—not after their night together. She just needed to figure out the best way to present it and decide if her daughter should know first.
Time. She needed some extra time and distance to figure things out.
“Tonight’s not good,” she said lightly. “I think I should spend some quality time with Becca. Plus we have her birthday celebration this weekend.”
“I remember. At our house, right?”
“Yes, I tried to convince her to have it at home but she loves the mansion. Morgan’s going to help me come up with a special theme, but it’s just family and three of her girlfriends. Trying to keep it simple.”
“She turns eight?”
She stiffened. Her voice cracked. “Seven.”
“Oops, sorry. Forgot.”
His words held nuances of the past. Of pain and regret and words that could never be unsaid. She clutched her clipboard and turned away. “It’s fine. We need to go.”
“Not yet. Not when you throw up your shield and refuse to let me in. If we’re going to move forward, we need to be open to each other, even when it hurts.”
Temper came and she gratefully tugged it around her like a familiar blanket. “You’ve gotten quite demanding about how you see this so-called relationship,” she snapped. “We slept together. Once. It doesn’t give you the sudden right to define what we are to each other or tell me what I need to do.”
“Better. I like you angry rather than cowering like a scared dog.”
She pivoted on her heel and got in his face. “You’re so arrogant. Just because you decide you want something doesn’t mean it’s going to happily fall in your lap. I’m not something you can handle or control.”