Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Marcus
I t would be a fair assessment to say I’d messed things up with Hallie significantly.
It would also be fair to say that being a sarcastic asshole after a rather spectacular make-out session might not have been the best idea I’ve ever had.
To the point that I’m in no way confused as to why I haven’t heard a single peep out of her.
I might not have been able to get the thought of Hallie out of my head, but the sound of her voice taking me down a peg or two is disturbingly absent. I’d been without her presence for nearly a decade, but somehow, after a single taste, it was like no time had passed at all.
It’s officially the end of the week, and I spent most of my time sitting around doing a whole lot of nothing other than going out on-site.
The practical side of building houses was where I’d started right after I’d left school. I’d needed the money and had been drawn in by the decent cash at the end of the week. But it wasn’t until I’d been offered training and a certification that all the dots had started to connect for me.
I like to build things, but I also love to fix them. To make something old new again.
I never wanted to get so busy in the office that I lost touch with the people outside, bringing my plans to life.
Apparently, though, more than one day of the boss on-site wearing a tool belt had put the staff, especially the apprentices, on edge. My project manager had kindly asked me to stop distracting his crew, and that was that.
I’d been kicked off my own site, landing me back behind a desk where procrastinating is way too easy.
Where daydreaming is way too easy.
My phone flashes with an incoming call, and I resign myself to a conversation of absolute avoidance with Julian. “Hello. Best man speaking.”
Considering the time of day, I can picture Jules still in his classroom, chair likely balanced on its two back legs. “Erica asked Hallie if she’d seen you about much since she moved in…”
“Oh yeah?” Look at me play vague.
“Hallie said she hadn’t, but considering what a toxic piece of shit you are, she’s likely to smell the rot if anything untoward befalls you at home.”
I choke on a laugh, a flare of excitement running through my veins.
Who knew being called a toxic piece of shit could have me smiling at my desk like this?
“Are you reading that verbatim from a text message?” I ask. “No, wait. Did Erica get it voice recorded? Can you send it to me?”
“What did you do, Marcus?” Julian asks with a groan. “Cause you sound way too happy about this.”
I’m the absolute worst.
“Well, it’s probably better we don’t get into it, but I can tell you she gave as good as she got.” My smile sticks around as I think about just how good we were together, finding a rhythm again after so long. I rub a hand over the back of my neck as it heats.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t cause issues,” Julian continues, blessedly unaware of the direction of my thoughts.
“Honestly, Jules, it wasn’t my intention. My mouth just ran away with itself.”
Which is the actual truth of it. A truth I’m going to have to open my mouth and admit to more than just my brother if I’m going to keep this wedding tracking along smoothly. I also selfishly wouldn’t mind more time with Hallie; getting her onside with me would be like hitting two birds with one stone. Hallie might’ve made it perfectly clear she doesn’t like me, that she doesn’t want to be around me. But our kiss? She hadn’t minded that at all.
“Well, are you going to fix it?” His irritation is palpable.
“Of course I am. It’s what I do, you know,” I reply confidently, leaning back in my plush office chair.
“You fix houses, not relationships with people. I have some kids who could run a mediation session if you need it, though?” he asks sarcastically.
“I’ll definitely let you know if it comes to it, although I wouldn’t think you’d want us to give them ideas on how to argue.”
“I’d like to think you’d be on your best behavior in front of kids, but it wouldn’t surprise me if you couldn’t manage it.”
“I’ll sort it out, Jules.”
“Excellent, and just to help expedite the process, I need the two of you to go for your fittings tomorrow. You’re booked in for 9:30 a.m. Erica’s already texted Hallie with the details. You’re driving.”
I could sigh and pretend to be annoyed, but I’m ready to get this ball rolling. I open my texts.
Marcus: It was only a kiss.
Hallie: You’re such a dick.
Marcus: What? I love The Killers.
Hallie: No. I love The Killers, and I hate you.
Marcus: You needn’t lie to yourself like that.
Hallie: No. What I need is to not have to look at your face anymore.
Marcus: Reverse cowgirl it is then.
Hallie: I. Hate. You.
Marcus: No, but really, I can’t believe you called me a toxic piece of shit.
Hallie: I wondered how well that message was going to be relayed to you. I’m glad to see it made it there, word for word.
Marcus: Honestly. I deserve worse.
Hallie: Oh, that can be arranged.
Marcus: In person?
Hallie: Potentially.
Marcus: Like tomorrow on our way to a suit fitting?
Hallie: Potentially.
Marcus: Do you know any other words starting with ‘p’?
Hallie: Potentially.
Marcus: Do I get to have another taste of you?
Hallie: Piss. Off.
Hallie is out by my truck by 9:00 a.m., looking less than impressed with her life’s choices. Her blond hair is tied in a hot mess of a bun on top of her head, her sunglasses are dark, and her oversized, faded black T-shirt has the word “Don’t” embroidered in white over her right breast. She lifts her head as my door clicks shut behind me, and her brows rise at the sight of the two travel mugs in my hands.
“Morning, sunshine,” I call, walking toward her. My voice gives away my genuine thrill at having her stuck in my company for the rest of the day. “You still secretly enjoy your morning coffee sweet?”
“I still enjoy caffeine in all its forms. Especially if I’m being asked to spend my time with you.”
I pass Hallie a mug as I reach past her to open the passenger side door, where I try not to brush up against her like some lonesome tomcat. “I’d wondered if you’d spend the day giving me the silent treatment. Disappointing to realize that won’t be the case. With our lovely list of rules, we gotta be polite in public.”
I try to add my usual bite into the words, but I’m not certain if either one of us is fooled.
She stands absolutely still, watching me move around to the driver’s side. “Are you determined to make me regret every moment I spend with you?”
She hops into the passenger seat and slams the door shut.
“Only the ones that don’t lead you back to my bedroom.” My tone is carefree, and I’m curious to see what level of awkward we’re going to find ourselves at for the rest of the day. “Speaking of which, you haven’t said much since the other night.”
“Why? Are you looking for a reference? ’Cause you were pretty clear on preferring my silence, but I’m happy to report you’re great at oral activities, just not the conversational sort.”
“I deserve that,” I say with a slow nod.
“I don’t disagree.”
“Would you be up for us playing by Julian’s rules? For productivity reasons, of course.”
Hallie takes a sip of her coffee, seemingly to mull over what I’m sure is a less-than-appealing offer. After careful consideration, she turns toward me, and I risk a quick glance her way as she replies, “As long as you can do it quietly.”
I tell myself I wasn’t imagining the hint of a smile around the edges of her lips.
We pull up in front of a store designed to look like a high-class tailor in Ireland in the late 1800s. The architecture, however, is not to be misleading. In one of the shop windows, mannequins display highly crafted suits and, in the other, brightly colored and retro-style garments. Everything here is made or repaired to fit the person who wears it.
I might not know a lot about fashion, but as the builder who put the storefront together, I’d picked up enough about the type of business it’d be.
O’Byrne & Daughters is owned by a quick-witted Irish woman and her sister, who still lives back in Dublin with a shop of the same name. Taught the love of the trade by their father, Andrea’s also been up for the sometimes momentous task of training the next generation and was the first choice for Julian when it came to getting our suits made for the wedding.
If Hallie has anything to say about the design of the shopfront or the nature of the clothing being sold in it, she doesn’t let on. Instead, she walks ahead of me, a smile already on her face. A smile, it seems, for anyone but me.
“Hi, we’re here for a fitting. The appointment is for Julian and Erica Scott’s wedding party,” Hallie says to Cara, Andrea’s shop apprentice, who’s currently behind the counter.
“Hey, Cara,” I say with a bright smile of my own as I come in behind Hallie.
“Hey, Mr. Scott, how are you?” she asks, standing from her seat and making her way into the center of the store.
“Good, thanks. I’m glad to see things are still going well with Andrea.”
“It’s the best thing that’s happened to me, for sure,” she says with new confidence. “Come on back to the fitting rooms. Andrea has everything ready for you to try on. I’ll just run and grab her.”
I lead the way into the back, where a plush ruby chaise lounge and three fitting spaces hung with heavy velvet, jewel-toned curtains reside.
“Ladies first?” I gesture to the fitting rooms before us, knowing Hallie won’t want to go first.
“Not on your life. I’ll happily wait until we have a witness in here before I start removing my clothes.”
“Hal, I didn’t know you were into exhibitionism now.” I groan dramatically, slowly running a hand down my face. Although I might be reacting this way to annoy her, a part of me cannot stop thinking about her splayed out on the chaise she’s taken a seat on.
“Marcus, I have a strict rule about customers not being made to feel uncomfortable in my store. Are you about to make me put my steel-cap boots on? Or should I just miss with a pin or two?” Andrea asks as she enters the room, gently shaking a small container of alteration pins in her hand.
Decked out in a charcoal tweed suit, she rocks a waistcoat, a pink gingham shirt, and a delicate pink velvet bow tie. With tousled brown hair, she is something else.
I place both my hands up in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I’m glad to hear it. You’re a man who looks good in a suit, attends charity events, and, generally, you don’t behave like an ass. Not half-bad as far as free advertising goes.”
I raise an eyebrow at her in disbelief. For Andrea, this is a compliment of the highest regard.
However, she bypasses me without further comment, instead making her way over to the chaise. “I’m Andrea—Andie to some—and you must be Hallie. It’s lovely to meet you.”
Hallie stands, a smile hitting her lips as she reaches her hand out in greeting.
“It’s great to meet you too. You have a stunning store, and I have a soft spot for anyone who’s ready to put a pin in Marcus.” Her grin is contagious, and Andrea’s eyes light up in interest.
“I spoke to Erica just before you arrived. She mentioned a close eye might have to be kept on the both of you. Something about destructive temperaments?”
I watch as she raises an eyebrow at Hallie, who has the grace to laugh and blush good-naturedly.
Thankfully, Andrea doesn’t say anything further and makes her way over to a few garment bags hanging near the changing spaces. “All right, Marcus, you’re up first. Get in there and drop your pants.”