Chapter 2
Dahlia
“A drink this weekend would be nice,” I say, gazing across the manicured lawn outside my office window. “How about Friday after work?”
My best friend, Morgan, cheers through the phone.
“Stop it,” I say, laughing. “It hasn’t been that long. I just saw you two weeks ago.”
“It feels like forever. Between my work trip and your relationship issues?—”
“I don’t have relationship issues anymore.” I pivot on my heel. “I’m free to meet you for drinks—ah!” My hand claps against my chest. “Damn you, Troy.”
My heart skips a beat as I come to a screeching halt.
It’s hard enough to stay calm when I have time to brace myself for Troy’s presence. It’s damn near impossible to appear unaffected when he blindsides me.
He sits across from my desk, relaxed in a chair, his knees spread. A quick glance would give the impression that he’s casually waiting for me to end my conversation. A deeper look says otherwise.
Troy Castelli’s square jaw is tight. His gray eyes are nothing short of thunderstorm clouds just before lightning strikes. His elbow rests against the arm of the chair, and the pad of his thumb strokes his bottom lip as if he’s deciding my fate.
He’s a whole damn mood—a sexy, dangerous vibe that steals my breath.
“Pull yourself together,” Morgan hisses through the phone. “I hear you panting from here.”
I laugh, letting out a breath and standing taller. “I’m sorry about that, Morgan. A co-worker just rudely entered my office without knocking.”
Troy lifts one brow and drops his hand. He couldn’t look more bored if he tried.
“If you play your cards right, that won’t be all he enters.” She snickers.
“Drinks Friday, right?” I ask, ignoring her. “I’ll call you later this week to pick a time and place.”
“Yes, and don’t try to bail on me. I need this.”
I smile, holding Troy’s gaze as I approach my desk. “I need it, too. Talk soon.”
“Bye.”
I end the call and place my phone next to my computer. Troy’s eyes peer into mine as I get seated.
“Theo knocks,” I say.
“As he should.”
“As he should, huh?” I ask, leaning against my desk. “Then why shouldn’t you?”
Troy only stares at me.
This man. “You’re extra grumpy today. Want me to get you a snack?”
A wry little smile quirks his mouth.
I roll my eyes and awaken my computer. “I don’t get paid enough to deal with you.”
“Who was on the phone?”
I peer at him over my shoulder. “What?”
“Who was on the phone?” He sits up, holding my gaze hostage. “It didn’t sound like a work conversation.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re meeting them for drinks on Friday—location to be determined. That sounds like a personal appointment to me.”
I pull a Troy on him and lift a brow, giving him my best disinterested look. What he can’t see are my insides melting into a pile of goo.
Troy and I have worked together since my first day at Landry Security. On paper, we shouldn’t mesh well at all. He’s moody and sullen. I wake up happy. He’s pragmatic and sensible—infuriatingly so at times. I’m optimistic about most things, which irritates him to no end. Troy wants to keep everyone at arm’s length, and I’m a hugger in every sense of the word. Despite all of that, we click.
Somehow.
“I wouldn’t call it an appointment,” I say, pulling my coffee mug toward me. I inhale a deep breath, hoping to fill my senses with the wonderful aroma of coffee. Instead, I get a lungful of Troy’s cologne. It’s seductive and masculine—promising excitement and a hint of danger.
It’s fitting.
“What would you call it?” he asks.
The edge to his voice sends a chill down my spine. “I’d call it none of your business.”
His eyes darken. I grin.
“I take it you saw Lincoln bright and early,” I say before sipping my drink. “It’s the only explanation for your uncontained joy this morning.”
“You know, it still shocks me that he’s Ford’s brother.”
“Right? Ford is Mr. Serious and Responsible, and Lincoln is …”
“A dipshit.”
I laugh. “I wasn’t going to phrase it that way, but I mean, you aren’t wrong.”
Troy chuckles, too. “Nah, he’s a good guy. I gotta be in the right mood for him, but he’s easily managed. Just a headache.”
“Ah, look at you,” I tease. “You’re getting soft on me, Castelli.”
“There’s nothing soft about me, Doll.”
A flush stings my cheeks, just like it does each time he calls me doll. I know it’s just a shortened version of my name. It’s not a term of endearment. Still, it feels intimate, whether he means it to or not.
I shift in my seat. “Moving on, did you get your license renewed?”
“How could I ignore the three reminders on my calendar?”
“You couldn’t. That’s why they were there.”
“I renewed it Saturday morning. I only had to wait in line for two hours.” He grimaces. “Such a great way to spend my time.”
“Why didn’t you just do it online?”
“The system kept giving me an error.”
“Poor you.” I smile before taking another sip of my coffee. “Did Ford give you our next assignment?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Our assignment, huh?”
“Yes, our assignment. We’re a team, remember?”
“How about you let me do the office part of our teamwork this time, and you can do the field work?”
I nod knowingly. “Finally.”
“Finally what?”
“You’re finally admitting that I’m badass.”
He scoffs, shaking his head.
“You know it, Castelli. I mean, I’m not wearing a suit and tie, and I’m definitely wearing flat shoes because I can’t chase bad guys in heels.”
Amusement flickers in his eyes.
“But I’m observant, and I’ve been called scary a time or two,” I say. “Heck, you’re scared of me half the time.”
“I love how you believe the shit you say.”
“I love how you pretend you don’t.”
He watches me carefully with a hint of a smile. The lines on his face soften, and the tension in his shoulders eases.
A flood of warmth spreads throughout my body and pools in the apples of my cheeks. I take another drink, hoping the heat of the coffee will provide a solid excuse for the flush if he notices, and then reroute the conversation back to business.
“So what’s next for us?” I ask.
He runs his hands down the arms of the chair and sighs. “I don’t know. Ford gave me a choice.”
“A choice? That’s fun.”
“Eh, not really.”
“Want me to pick? I’m open-minded and levelheaded. I’d be good at this.”
He stretches his long legs out in front of him.
“Let me guess,” I say. “Option one is … working with the Brewers again?”
“Nope.”
“Okay. What about staying local with one of the Landrys?”
“Nope.”
I lick my lips. “You’ve been clear that you don’t want to return to the Laina Kelley contract. So I’m hoping it’s not that.”
The blaze of fire in his eyes tells me it’s exactly that.
Irritation sweeps through me on Troy’s behalf.
He has requested to be removed from the Kelley assignment more than once—and he doesn’t make many requests or demands. Troy does whatever’s asked of him, and he does a damn good job. The fact that Ford is asking Troy to return pisses me off.
“I hope you told him no,” I say, my shoulders taut.
“Well, the other option isn’t exactly stellar.”
I set my mug down with a thud. “What was it?”
“He wants me to take a vacation.” Troy sighs.
I bite my tongue both literally and figuratively.
Troy has taken one sick day since I started working here, and if HR can be believed, he’s called in sick a total of three times while employed by the Landry family. He gives his all to this company; his loyalty to Ford knows no bounds. And it really pisses me off that Ford, in turn, puts Troy in this position.
Even if I think he needs a vacation, too.
“What are you going to do?” I ask, my voice even.
“I don’t fucking know. He told me he needs to know by Friday. So I guess I wait and hope another job comes up.”
“Want me to tell Ford that I refuse to work on the Kelley case? If we both say we won’t, what can he do?”
Troy’s eyes twinkle. The moment of vulnerability makes my heart swell.
“I’ll fight him.” I grin. “I know Ford was like special ops or whatever, but he hasn’t seen me with a baton. I was a majorette with the band in high school. I know how to work a stick.”
“Is that so?”
“You can’t possibly be surprised. I’m good at everything I do.”
My stomach clenches at the heat in his eyes. Goose bumps run down my arms, and I struggle to change the subject. My brain fries with the imagery of me and a certain stick.
Thankfully, Troy does me a favor and changes it for me.
“So who are you having drinks with on Friday?” he asks, nibbling his bottom lip.
“I told you, it’s none of your business.”
“Is it Theo?”
“No.” I laugh. “You really think I’d have drinks with Theo?”
He shrugs.
“Although it’s none of your business,” I repeat, “I’m going out with my friend Morgan. We haven’t hung out in a while, so we’re meeting up after work on Friday.”
“The same Morgan who baked you the unicorn birthday cake?”
My lips part into a smile. “That’s her. Good memory.”
He shrugs again.
“She’s been working out of town,” I say. “And I’ve been dealing with my breakup from Freddy …”
I know I’ve made a mistake as soon as I say Freddy’s name.
Troy leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What does that mean?”
“What does what mean?” I ask, knowing full well what he means.
“Dealing with your breakup?”
I groan. “It doesn’t mean anything, Troy. It was a poor choice of words.”
“You chose them.”
“And now I un-choose them.”
He rolls his head around his neck. “Cut the shit, Doll.”
“You’re my co-worker. I don’t owe you an explanation.”
He narrows his eyes. “No, you don’t. But you’re going to tell me anyway.”
I fall back into my chair and cross my arms over my chest. Troy pins me to the seat with nothing but his gaze. The intensity makes me squirm.
The last thing I want to do is discuss Freddy—with anyone. But the last person in the world I want to talk about it with is Troy.
“We broke up,” I say flatly. “Everything’s fine. It’s all good. Freddy’s just having a hard time accepting reality, and it’s been a bit of a process.”
“Define that.”
“I’d rather not.”
His jaw flexes. “Is he fucking with you?”
“No,” I say, sitting tall in a futile attempt at appearing in control. “I told you everything is fine. Now, let’s stop talking about it. You were just on my ass for having a personal conversation at work, and now here you are prodding me into having a personal conversation with you.”
“It’s different.”
“Hardly.” I make a face at him. “Have you uploaded your paperwork from last week into the system? I need to get all your invoices coded and to accounting by noon.”
He opens his mouth—I think to argue with me. To avoid that, I cut him off before he can say a word.
“I’ve scheduled your truck for maintenance tomorrow since you’re in town,” I say. “Take it to the shop in the morning. They’ll have a loaner ready for you. And I’m going to schedule your physical for Wednesday. I was trying to figure out how to get you in to see Dr. Manning, but since you’ll be here all week, I’ll get him to squeeze you in. Cool?”
“I thought my physical was good through the end of the year?”
“You thought wrong. It expires in three weeks.”
He smiles. It’s a baby smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Let me know, and I’ll be there.”
“Good boy.”
He groans, making me laugh.
“I have a lot of stuff to do today, so scram,” I say, motioning toward the door. “Please upload your paperwork so I can process it this morning before Norm from accounting comes for me.”
He pauses before gripping the armrests and getting to his feet.
His body unfolds from the chair inch by inch. Each movement sends a drift of his cologne my way. I look up at his six-foot-three-inch frame, broad shoulders, and barrel chest as he peers down at me. It’s hard not to shiver.
“Thanks,” he says with a small nod.
“For what?”
He shrugs, letting his gaze linger on me before turning to the door. “Last week’s paperwork will be in the system within the hour.”
“Thank you.”
He pulls open the door and looks over his shoulder. “One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Tell Freddy to accept reality, or I’ll help him.”
My jaw drops as Troy tucks his chin to his chest and slips out of my office. He pulls the door shut behind him.
I inhale a long, deep, steadying breath and blow it out.
If Troy were anyone else, and I met him anywhere else, I would give in to this attraction in a heartbeat. I’d be putty in that man’s sexy, calloused hands. But as luck will have it, instead of whispering how much he wants to fuck me, he just fucks with me.
Why does he have to be so complicated?
I grin.
Why does he have to be so damn gorgeous?
My grin slides into a pout.
And why do I have to be so damn attracted to the one man who’s absolutely off-limits?
I sigh and get back to work.