5. Chloe
Chapter 5
Chloe
S omehow, we’d made it through another few days, though they hadn’t been easy. Work was chaotic and confusing, but I was starting to get my bearings.
JJ was up to her eyeballs in reports and soil samples, and Karl was running around, doing his best to keep me on schedule and keep the company running.
Then there was my least favorite employee.
He’d been gone all week, overseeing road repairs. The office had been blissfully quiet without him. One less unwelcome distraction.
But now he was back. And he was standing at my office door.
He was wearing dark wash jeans that hugged his thick, muscular thighs perfectly and showed off his lumberjack bubble butt. God, it was unfair.
I stayed behind my desk, silently willing him to stay where he was. One whiff of his sexy, earthy man scent, and I’d be done for.
How was it possible for him to trigger these reactions from me? It had been decades.
Olfactory memory. At least that’s what Dr. Google had explained to me. Dammit, it was ridiculous that he’d dug in so securely all those years ago that a part of him still lived deep in the primitive recesses of my brain.
“You rang, boss?” He stepped over the threshold, sucking all the air out of the room. “You’re looking particularly ravishing today,” he added, his face a stony mask of indifference.
I glared at him.
Another step closer. “Can I make you dinner tonight?”
“No,” I huffed, tamping down the tiny zing that lit me up inside. “Please stop offering.” He’d been bringing me coffee, offering up lunch and dinner for the past week and it was enraging.
“I’m a decent chef, and it would be a good opportunity to talk. You can tell me your villain origin story.”
With a sigh, I shuffled the papers on my desk. I needed the distraction and an excuse to divert my focus from him. Every single look, word, and gesture from him seemed like a flirtation, even if he never smiled. Innuendo was delivered deadpan and accompanied by a scowl, and it was really throwing me off my game.
Any time I let myself imagine confronting him, I always pictured him ashamed. I always assumed he’d avoid me. Never did I consider that he’d work so hard to invade my space with those damn shoulders and that intoxicating scent and dinner invitations.
“Are you trying to get fired?” I snapped.
“If you can’t stand the sight of me, Dragonfly, then why’d you contractually obligate me to work for you for a year? I could be three thousand miles away right now, but instead I’m here, at your beck and call.”
My stomach lurched. Why did I want him here? My brilliant plan seemed like more of a disaster by the day. My own ego and immaturity had gotten the better of me. I should have let him go away and brought someone else in to run the day-to-day.
“Because it made sense operationally,” I said, lifting my chin primly.
“Did it now?” He grabbed the doorframe above him, the move making his biceps bulge.
God, his arms and chest were thick. And if memory served, he was thick in other places as well. Heat crept into my cheeks and swirled low in my belly. God, no wonder I couldn’t function. His proximity was causing some kind of hormonally-induced psychosis.
“I could see that,” he mused. “It makes sense for operations. But I have another theory. Wanna hear it?”
Pressing my lips together, I narrowed my eyes and remained silent.
“I think it’s one of two reasons. Either you want to climb me like a tree, or you want to punish me.”
My heart leapt into my throat. I was not capable of having this conversation right now.
“So which is it, Dragonfly? Sexual tension or revenge?”
My throat went tight, and my heart pounded in my ears. Why was he pushing me, testing me? Asshole.
Up until a few days ago, I would have said revenge. And as embarrassing as it was to admit, the fantasy was better than the reality.
Because the reality was that every day, I was losing my edge, my anger, and I was feeling more and more confused by his presence.
“Revenge is such a dirty word,” I said. “I’m just a businesswoman.”
He stalked closer, his movements smooth. “Bullshit. Why am I here?”
My motives were impossible to put into words. The ambition and emotions and the decades of pain coming together in the perfect storm? How could I tell him that I took pride in making him stay on because making him watch me take away the one thing he’d ever cared about would be unique, specific torture?
He’d given up everything, including me, for this company. He’d thrown me away for some trees and a business deal. And as embarrassing as it was, I was still bitter over it almost twenty years later. I could feel his arms around me in our tiny, freezing-cold apartment. When I closed my eyes, I could see his broad smile when we exchanged our vows at that tiny chapel in Quebec. The memories of our short time together haunted me, and I wanted to vanquish them by making him hurt too.
Obviously, there was no way I could tell him that. So I just had to keep my cool.
And if I was being honest, he was more than qualified to run the whole place while I made my changes and got things back up and running. Yes. That was totally the reason I’d kept him on. I would not be pressured to show my hand.
“Because you’d give up anything for your family’s business.” I raised one eyebrow in challenge.
He didn’t flinch. Instead, he shook his head slowly and murmured, “Not true.”
Those two small words stung. Because he’d given up his marriage, his wife. Did he really have priorities he held above the covenant we’d made?
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I’m glad you’ve evolved. Even so, we both know there was a time when that was true.” The words hung between us for the space of a few heartbeats.
He crossed his arms. “So you’re punishing me.”
I shrugged.
“Joke’s on you.” He laughed, the sound low and soft. “Seeing your gorgeous face every day is the furthest thing from punishment.”
Hands splayed on my desk, I scowled at him. “Just behave, and I’ll be out of here in a few months.”
A sexy grin spread slowly across his face, the sight of it unnerving. “You know I can never behave, especially around you.”
That deep tone of his made my legs shake and the warmth in my core ignite.
“The FBI will be here next week, along with that team of high-priced Boston lawyers you’ve got working for you. You’ve got a ton of work to do, and I’m here to help every step of the way. But first, I need you to tell me the truth.”
My eye twitched as I regarded him. I held my breath, shoring up my defenses. I would not fall into his trap. I would not let him manipulate me. Nope. He could take his flirtation and his “I would do anything for you” and shove it right up his thick lumberjack ass.
I did not owe him shit. Least of all an explanation.
“You want to know what I think?” He pressed his palms against my desk, looming over me in a way that many might find intimidating. Me, though? Not a chance. This was Gus. The gentle giant, the kind lumberjack with a heart of gold.
Or at least that’s what I’d once thought.
It shouldn’t be so easy to forget that he had abandoned me when I was at my most vulnerable. That he’d broken my heart and sent me away without a second thought.
I couldn’t let those broad shoulders and his deliciously manly smell distract me from the truth. He was not the good guy. No matter how good his acting ability was.
“You’ve been in the timber industry for a long time, but on the investor side. You buy and sell and strategize. And, according to the internet, you’re fucking great at it.”
I had to suppress a smile. Those words from him were the biggest ego boost I’d experienced in a long, long time. Yes, I was smart and I worked hard, and I’d earned everything I’d achieved. If only the men in my own family could see it.
“You’ve bounced around. Mostly on the West Coast. You live in Seattle, where you own a luxury condo in a historic building in the Queen Anne neighborhood.”
I sucked in a breath, and my heart took off once more.
“In your role as a partner at Strategic Timber, you’ve traveled all over the globe and made a lot of money for institutional investors in Eastern Europe, specifically Romania, which has some of the best hardwoods on the planet.”
Aw, fuck. He’d done his homework.
He raised one eyebrow. “I’m smarter than I look.” Lowering himself until he was so close I couldn’t help but inhale his strong masculine scent, he said, “So why are you here? This company is small, this town even smaller.”
“Investment opportunity,” I choked out.
“You bought my family’s company, came back to run it, and bought a damn mansion in my hometown. So you can sit there and snap at me all you want, but we both know this isn’t just an investment to you.”
His proximity brought me back to a different world, a different life.
Those callused hands were still strong, and his deep blue gaze still burned me as hotly as it always had.
I squeezed my eyes shut and dug deep, searching for the anger that had festered inside me for decades. But dammit, he had a point. Why was I here? That was the problem with Gus—he was too smart for his own damn good.
If I had to put my finger on what was making me so uncomfortable, I’d say it was his honesty. He was an open book, making his interest clear and relishing every moment the two of us sparred.
It was so very Gus, and so very infuriating.
I’d worked with tons of men, and very few had ever shown interest in sleeping with me.
I wasn’t the desirable woman men lusted after.
I was the scary one.
No one had ever mistaken me for the sweetheart every man fell in love with or the gal that guys were comfortable flirting with in professional spaces.
No, I was the ball-buster.
They made jokes about Commando Chloe and having to wear a cup to meetings.
But maybe honesty was the only way forward here. The thought made my heart sink, but what other choice did I have?
“I need your help,” I admitted, as much as it felt like defeat. “I took a big risk when I bought Hebert Timber, and I want to do right by it.”
He straightened, then dropped into the chair opposite me, his expression open and full of interest.
“And while I know you don’t care whether I lose money, if we can’t make this work, it’s not just my ass on the line.”
“My employees,” he said.
I nodded. “And the town. This company is important to a lot of people. I won’t play games with you. The crime and the drugs and the assault and the thefts? That’s all just icing on the shit cake right now. So I am going to ask. Humbly. Can you help me? Give me all the background, walk me through the last few years. I’ve got the court documents, but that’s just a small snapshot.”
“I’ll clear my weekend.” He stood and headed for the door. Halfway there, he turned to look at me, his eyes softening. “And after we talk shop, you can tell me why you’re really here.”
I scoffed. That would absolutely not be happening. I needed his help, but I was determined to keep all our interactions business related.
He bit his lower lip. “I think you feel this just as much as I do. I think you came back because you missed me.”
“Really?” I gripped the edge of my desk and laughed. “I missed you? After twenty years?”
“Nineteen years, four months, and eleven days,” he said softly, never breaking eye contact. “And for the record, I missed you too, Dragonfly.”