10. Sydney
A few days have passed since I woke up literally sprawled on top of Reese. He and I have settled into a companionable routine, as in he’s actively avoiding me and I rarely see him.
Each morning, we pass like two ships in the night; him leaving for work and me needing my first hit of caffeine. I spend my days either with Wren and Ty working in the greenhouse, or painting on the back deck of Reese’s cabin.
The views here are breathtaking and unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The air is so fresh; the sky is bluer here and the greens of the trees more vibrant. It’s easy to find my muse in a place so beautiful.
Reese usually barrels into the cabin around dinner time, where we’ll eat in silence.
When I try to have a conversation, he’ll give me one-word answers and look like he’s going to pass out, an angry vein in his forehead throbbing to the point of nearly bursting. As soon as his plate is in the dishwasher, he grunts a good night and retreats to his room—doing who knows what .
This morning is no different. A pot of coffee waits for me in the empty kitchen. The silence is deafening as I pour coffee into the same boring brown mug.
“Note to self: buy Reese some fun mugs,” I mutter, eyes wandering to the large windows at the back of the room. The first rays of sun cascade through the glass, creating a calming glow. A slight breeze blows in through the open windows.
Birds swoop through the trees, singing happily in the warmth of the summer morning air. I smile as their cheerful tune greets my ears. I don’t know how Reese can be so grumpy living in a place like this. It’s magical, almost like I’m a woodland Disney princess.
Grabbing my coffee mug, I venture down the hall from the living room. I haven’t explored this area of the house yet and Reese did tell me to make myself at home.
Reaching the end of the hall, I wrap my hand around the cool metal of the door handle. Pulling down, the door clicks open.
“The door would be locked if he didn’t want me in here, right?” I reason with myself out loud. Swinging the door open a crack, I peek my head inside.
A large wooden desk sits in front of a row of windows. One thing I love about this cabin is the excessive amount of windows. Every room is flooded with natural light during the daytime.
Bookshelves line the back wall of the room, cluttered with books and random knick knacks. “More books,” I murmur, stepping into the room.
A mess of papers litter the top of the desk next to a computer monitor and keyboard. My eyes catch on the letterhead .
“Cypress Valley Lumber Co.,” I read, brows pulling together. “Reese’s company?”
Setting the page aside, I pick up a few more. Some are bills that are overdue. Some are invoices of money owed to Reese.
“How is he running a profitable business from this mess?” I wonder aloud.
“What are you doing?”
I jump at his deep voice, the papers in my hands fluttering haphazardly to the desk. My eyes shoot up to find Reese’s large body filling the doorway. He’s so broad his shoulders nearly touch the frame on either side.
Based on sheer size, I’d know Reese was a bear, but right now, he reminds me of a jungle cat. Dark gaze locked onto me like I’m his prey. He stalks across the space, coming to a stop on the other side of the desk.
Planting both palms flat on the wooden surface, he glares down at me. Endless pools of dark chocolate bore into me and my heart kicks into high gear.
Don’t show your fear.
Rolling my shoulders back, I straighten to my full five-foot-two height. Tipping my chin up, I meet his glowering gaze and resist the urge to blink under his stare.
Voice even, I state, “The door was open. I didn’t think you were hiding anything nefarious in here.”
To my surprise, a chuckle floats through the office, wrapping around me like a blanket. He has an amazing laugh, smooth and warm, reminding me of fresh honey. My lips curl into a small smile at the rare sound .
“Nothing nefarious,” he admits, lips tipping up in a lopsided smirk. “Only my poor attempt at office keeping.”
“You know, I could help you with this,” I offer, tapping my finger on the mess of papers covering his desk.
“Oh?” He crosses his arms over his wide chest, the fabric of his t-shirt tightening against his pec muscles and biceps. Fuck, why does he make my insides turn to jello and my brain misfire?
I subtly wipe the corner of my mouth, checking for drool. “Yes. I’m very good at organizing. I help my boss at the diner with scheduling, bills, and payroll. He doesn’t pay me nearly enough for what I do.”
“Why don’t you ask for a raise?”
I huff, the air from my mouth blowing a flyaway hair from my forehead. “I have. Several times. And I’ve asked for more staff, but he keeps putting it off. Promising he’ll get around to it, eventually.”
“Then quit,” he states bluntly, like it’s that easy.
“Not all of us are billionaires, Reese. I can barely afford rent for my shitty shoebox apartment. And have you seen the price of groceries lately?”
“You should know your worth, Sydney. Sounds like you’ve made yourself irreplaceable, so demand more money. Show me how you would fix my mess.” He leans his hip against the desk, watching eagle-eyed as I sift through the paperwork.
“Well,” I start, sorting everything into three piles. “It looks like you have bills that need to be paid.” I tap the first pile. “Invoices that need to be collected.” I tap the second pile. “And tax documents you need to deal with.” I tap the third pile.
“And what do you suggest I do? ”
“A lot of these bills are overdue,” I say, picking up the pile and organizing them by due date. “I would contact the provider and make sure the bill has been paid. If not, I’d try to get the late fees waived by claiming we had staffing issues.”
Glancing up from the papers, I watch Reese’s stoic features lift into a smile. Yes.
“This pile—” I continue, tapping the second pile again “—is money you’re owed, Reese. This could be a lot of money. If I had access to your bank accounts, I could cross reference and make sure you’ve been paid. If not, I’d call each customer to double check if they’ve paid you.”
“I know some of them haven’t. I’m shit at asking people for money. Especially people I know.” His brows dip together at his admission.
“Reese, you should know your worth.” I throw his words back at him. It’s the truth. “You’re providing a service to these people. You have to collect on that, even if they’re friends.”
“I know.” Scratching the back of his neck, a faint blush rises on his high cheekbones. “What about the last pile?”
“This looks like tax information. It should go to your accountant.”
“No accountant,” he states, voice flat.
“Don’t you file taxes?” I ask, brows shooting up on my forehead.
Reese shrugs. “I prefer to be out in the woods or in my workshop.”
“When was the last time you filed taxes?” Closing my eyes, I wait, afraid of what his answer will be. I know it won’t be good.
“Never. ”
Peeking an eye open, my stomach plummets. “Never?”
“The business has only been legitimate for a few years. I didn’t start logging until Kiernan showed up.”
“Okay, well, the first thing we should do is hire an accountant for your tax mess,” I tell him.
“Alright. You’re hired, sweetheart,” he says with a nod, straightening from the desk. Simple as that. “Computer passwords are in the top drawer.” He waves over his shoulder and walks to the door, leaving me reeling.
“Wait, we didn’t discuss my rate,” I snark at his broad back. He freezes, thick muscles tensing under his shirt.
Dark eyes light up with humor as he peers over his shoulder. “You are living in my house for free, Angel. I think that’s enough compensation.” His deep chuckle carries down the hall as he leaves the room. The foreign sound sinks straight to my bones… and my pussy.
A smile spreads across my face as I turn my attention back to the mess of papers on his desk.
Did I just take on more work than I can handle? Even if I did, my heart flutters with how easily he agreed to let me help. I smile as I shuffle through the papers and boot up the computer, knowing I’m shouldering some of the mental load for Reese. And the conversation was almost pleasant; no Grumpy Bear in sight.