13. Chloe
Chapter 13
Chloe
“ T hat’s not what we agreed to,” I shouted into the phone.
Jessica, my legal counsel, was relaying the latest from those FBI assholes and was seething too. They had no intention of stopping the constant surveillance. How was I supposed to get this business operational when I had to waste so much precious time babysitting the feds?
“We’re pushing back,” Jessica assured me. She cost a grand an hour, but she was the best in her field. “I can block and tackle like the Patriots’ defensive line. You focus on the trees; I’ll deal with law enforcement.”
I trusted her, but at barely nine a.m., I had already reached my limit for the day. Heavy rains had washed out part of a road, the sawmill wanted to renegotiate pricing, and I hadn’t slept in the last two days.
Sleep had been elusive since the night that will not be spoken of with Gus.
Who knew using a growly lumberjack as a duvet could lead to such a great night’s sleep?
At least my makeup was on point. I’d been up so early this morning, surveying the lake, that I’d gone all out and put as much armor on as I could.
According to the meticulous color-coded schedule Karl kept, Gus was due out in camp four today to assess the needed road repairs and to take measurements. Good, maybe he’d spend the week out in the forest and give me some time to myself. Or maybe a tree would fall on him and he’d get amnesia. Then I could just pretend the other night never happened.
There was so much to process. And JJ and Karl were constantly exchanging looks around me. They’d witnessed my drive of shame home after my night with Gus. Thankfully, they had a healthy fear of my moods and would not ask.
I put my head on my desk, willing my body to calm the fuck down. Just the thought of seeing Gus again had my clit perking right up. Traitorous bundle of nerves. No, thank you. My frontal lobe was calling the shots now. We were all logic, all the time up in here.
Because I couldn’t repeat that mistake. No matter how sweet, generous, and fucking ferocious he was in bed.
Nope. Not happening.
It was one thing to be attracted to the guy. But it was another to actually like him. I’d already given him his chance. He wasn’t the kind of man a woman could depend on. The scars on my heart were all the proof I needed.
At the knock on the door, I picked my head up, for a moment praying Karl really was here and he’d brought a triple espresso with him. Or perhaps a quick bump of cocaine. Kidding. But at this point, I’d take almost anything if it would help me conquer this exhaustion.
No such luck. Karl was not the man standing in my doorway.
Instead, looking all kinds of handsome, was none other than my ex-husband, my nemesis, and my tormentor. Gus.
“Morning, Dragonfly,” he said, sauntering in.
As he placed a large coffee cup from the Caffeinated Moose on my desk, I decided I wasn’t totally annoyed to see him or that white paper bag in his hand.
“Cranberry orange scone,” he said. “You never eat breakfast, and then you’re grouchy by ten a.m. These scones are incredible. I know you hate blueberry—don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone—but the cranberry orange is really great.”
I was starving. So despite my better judgment, I reached inside the bag and pulled out a scone the size of my head. It was covered with some kind of orange sugar drizzle and smelled incredible. Okay, maybe this man wasn’t the antichrist, after all.
Was he wearing new clothes? He still looked all rugged and lumberjacky, yet something had changed. Huh.
“You look different,” I said, shoving a chunk of scone into my mouth.
He ran his hand through his hair and broke into a grin. “I got a haircut. Glad you noticed.”
And then he winked. Winked . While my mouth was filled with buttery, crumbly goodness. God, when I finished this coffee and ate every last crumb of this scone, when my energy had returned, I’d punch him for being insufferably good-looking and disturbing my morning.
“Also.” He slid a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and placed it on my desk.
After a slow sip of coffee to wash down the scone, I opened it up. Instantly, my stomach dipped, and my jaw dropped open.
“Totally clean bill of health,” he said. “No gross diseases over here. I went to see Willa yesterday, and she stuck a swab in a very unpleasant place. But I’d do it every day if it would give you peace of mind.”
“Willa?”
“Dr. Willa Savard, town doctor.” He roughed a hand over his neatly trimmed beard. “I’ve known her since she was a kid, so sometimes I slip and call her Willa.”
I nodded as I scanned the test results. I was not qualified to read medical records, but it was hard to deny that I was impressed that he’d gone out and gotten himself tested so quickly.
“I’ll do the same,” I said, folding the paper up primly and holding it out to him. Suddenly, instead of the offense I’d been playing since I arrived, I felt like I was on defense. I was just trying to get through the week after the whole best sex of my life with my ex-husband who I can ’ t stand thing, and here he was, chipper, well-groomed, and bearing medical results.
God, I was not prepared for this.
“I’m heading up north, so I thought I’d see if you needed anything before I leave.”
I shook my head and stuffed another bite into my mouth. Damn, this scone was delicious. Couldn’t he just leave and let me stress eat in peace?
“Are you sure?” He peered over one shoulder and lowered his voice. “I can crawl under that desk and take care of all this tension.”
“Gus,” I snapped, my heart dropping. “We’re at work.”
One corner of his lip quirked, but otherwise, his face remained totally serious.
He took a step closer, putting those big hands on top of my desk and angling in. “I can’t stop thinking about you. The way you felt, the sounds you made.” He lifted one hand and bit his knuckles. “I was pleasantly surprised by how loud you were. I’m into it.”
Even as my legs shook in response to his words, I contemplated throwing my hot coffee at him. But if I did, he’d probably interpret that as foreplay, and I couldn’t afford to waste the caffeine.
“You,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking, “are sexually harassing me.”
He dipped lower, an evil gleam in his eye. “I most certainly am. Good of you to catch on, Dragonfly.”
“In case I didn’t make it clear, that will not happen again.” I crossed my arms to hide the way my nipples were trying to bust through my bra. Apparently, several body parts were on Team Gus.
“Here’s the thing,” he said, stroking his beard, which was definitely shorter and more sculpted than before. “My girl Brené says love has to be nurtured and grown slowly. I’m fine with that. I’m a patient guy, and you’re worth waiting for.”
“Love?” I spat, reeling back so hard my chair rolled with me. “You are insane.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I’m an honest man. I don’t believe in playing games or wasting time. I’m not worthy of you yet, but I will be.” His already serious expression went stony. “I’m going to therapy and dealing with my shit. The other night proved what I’ve suspected for decades: you’re it for me, Chloe. You are my person. I’m gonna work my ass off to show you that I can be everything you need.”
Sweet Jesus, now my heart had officially switched to Team Gus too. What the fuck was he doing walking into my office and completely upending all my boundaries and rules? Jackass.
I closed my eyes, and the pain of his betrayal washed over me again. The agony I’d felt at twenty, totally alone in this world after the one person I trusted let me down.
Hot, welcome anger surged within me, and my strength returned. No number of words or orgasms would cut it. He was delusional, and I had work to do.
“Please leave,” I said softly, wavering between wanting to kiss him and wanting to stab him to death with my stiletto.
With a single nod, he turned, but he stopped at the door and turned back, hitting me with a panty-melting grin. “Just be ready, because I’m coming for you, Dragonfly. And when I want something, I don’t give up.”