Chapter Sixteen Chloe
The moment Spock brings his bike to a stop, I release him and scramble off the back like the leather seat is on fire.
It isn’t.
I am, though.
My legs feel unsteady, and I’m not sure whether it’s from the bike’s vibrations, the adrenaline of flying down the road with nothing between me and the pavement, or the fact that I spent the entire ride pressed against Spock’s hard body.
The most humiliating part is that it wasn’t even that long of a ride.
We crossed the highway and traveled a short distance to the Riversedge Apartments, yet every nerve ending in my body is buzzing. My breasts ache from being pressed against him, and I can still feel the heat of his body between my thighs.
I yank off the helmet and shove it at him before I do something reckless. Because all I want to do is drag him into my office, strip him down, and climb him like a tree.
The image comes far too easily. Spock naked. Those powerful arms wrapped around me. His hands gripping my hips while I—Nope. Not going there. Absolutely not.
I step away before he can see what that ride has done to me.
“Everything okay?” he asks. His voice is low and smooth, and it slides over my overheated skin like a caress.
“Fine.” The word comes out too fast. I clear my throat and try again. “I’m fine.”
I risk a glance at his face, and the knowing smirk causes my cheeks to heat and my pulse to quicken.
I gesture toward the half-finished apartment building, pretending I’m deeply concerned about concrete, framing, and electrical work. “I just want to check the progress.”
Spock glances from the building back to me. “Sure.”
He doesn’t believe me.
I don’t care.
Rush beat us here. He’s already off his bike and talking to Hawk.
I don’t wait for anyone to say anything else. Turning on my heel, I march toward the temporary office with as much dignity as I can manage on trembling legs.
Once inside, I grab my hard hat from the hook by the door and jam it onto my head. It won’t cool me down, but at least it gives me something to hide beneath.
When I step outside again, Spock, Rush, and Hawk are gathered near the bikes. Hawk is already talking, probably giving them an update on everything that happened while we were gone.
Spock is watching me.
Our eyes meet.
Heat flashes through me all over again.
I immediately turn and disappear into the safety of the building.
The temperature drops the moment I step inside.
Without the late-afternoon sun beating down on me, the cooler air should feel like a relief.
It doesn’t. My skin is still overheated, and every step reminds me of the motorcycle vibrating beneath me—and Spock’s body trapped between my arms and legs.
I need to get myself under control. Fortunately, I have work to distract me.
I pull my work tablet from beneath my arm and make my way through the first floor, checking each unit as I go.
Most of the framing is complete. The plumbing rough-ins appear to be where they belong, and the electrical boxes I can see are mounted at the correct heights.
Several units have drywall up, although the seams haven’t been taped yet.
The guys made good progress today after the attack on my dad yesterday. Just thinking about him lying unconscious on the ground causes my stomach to clench. The doctor said he would be fine, but that doesn’t erase the image from my mind—or the message painted on the wall.
NEXT TIME IT WILL BE YOU, BITCH!
I force myself to focus on what’s in front of me. A stack of drywall sheets rests against one wall. Empty buckets and scraps of wire wait to be cleared away. Someone left a tape measure on a windowsill, but otherwise, the crew did a decent job cleaning up before they left.
I enter the next apartment and compare the kitchen outlet placement to the plans. Everything matches. Good.
I’m stepping into the hallway when a noise reaches me. A dull thud followed by another. I stop and listen, searching for the source. No one should still be working. Everyone should have gone home by now. But another thud tells me that someone else is here. But who?
Another thud echoes through the building, followed by a sharper crack. I hurry toward the sounds because they’re wrong. This isn’t installation; this is demolition.
I glance into empty room after empty room as I try to locate the source. A scraping sound comes from one of the units near the end of the hall. I quicken my pace and step through the doorway.
Steven stands beside an interior wall with a pry bar in his hand. Broken pieces of drywall cover the floor around his boots. A large section of the wall has already been torn open, exposing the studs and wiring behind it.
I stare at the damage.
“What are you doing?”
Steven spins around so abruptly that the pry bar strikes an exposed stud. His eyes widen before his expression hardens.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he snaps.
“It looks like you’re tearing down drywall that was just installed.”
His grip tightens around the pry bar. “The crew screwed up. I’m fixing their problem.”
I step closer to the wall, careful to avoid the jagged pieces of gypsum scattered across the floor. Several lengths of wire hang between the studs, but from where I’m standing, I can’t see an obvious problem.
“What did they screw up?”
“They put up the drywall before the wiring was finished.”
I frown and study the open wall. “Which wiring?”
His mouth tightens. “The electrical wiring.”
“I can see that, Steven. I’m asking what wasn’t completed.”
He gestures toward the wall with the pry bar. “The line for the bedroom outlets wasn’t run properly. If I leave it like this, the electrician will have to cut through the wall later. I’m saving us time.”
“By tearing it all down yourself?”
“Someone has to fix it.”
There’s something wrong with his explanation.
If the electrician missed a line, there should be a work order documenting it.
Steven should have notified me, especially if correcting the problem requires removing newly installed material.
We would also need photographs before the wall was opened so I could determine who was responsible for the additional cost.
“You should have called me.”
He gives a short, humorless laugh. “Would you have answered?”
My shoulders stiffen. “Excuse me?”
“You haven’t exactly been around today.”
“I’ve been at Inferno Ridge. You know that.”
His gaze shifts away for a fraction of a second. He does know. He knew where I was going when I left this morning, and he knows I’ve spent the day checking the crews, reviewing the work, and making sure the Demon Dawgs project remains on schedule.
“I know where you were,” he says. “But you weren’t here.”
“I’m managing more than one construction site. That isn’t unusual, and it isn’t news to you.”
He tosses the pry bar onto the floor. It lands with a loud clang. “Maybe if you’d been here, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Anger burns through the lingering heat beneath my skin. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“You might’ve noticed the crew installing drywall before the electrical work was complete.” He gestures around the room. “At the very least, you’d know what was happening on your own job site.”
“You knew I was at Inferno Ridge.”
“Yeah, I knew.” His expression twists. “Seems like that project is getting most of your attention lately.”
“That project requires my attention. So does this one. That’s why I have a foreman, you.”
His eyes narrow.
“You’re the foreman here, Steven,” I continue.
“It’s your job to oversee the work. That’s why I hired you.
I can’t stand over every worker at every site every minute of the day.
You’re supposed to ensure the crews follow the plans, complete each phase in the right order, and report problems to me when they happen. ”
“I know how to do my damn job.”
“Then why was drywall installed over unfinished wiring?”
The question hangs between us.
Steven’s face darkens. He takes a step toward me.
It isn’t a normal movement. It isn’t a man closing the distance to explain something or point out a problem. His movement is aggressive and threatening.
My body registers the danger before my mind does. My muscles tense, but I refuse to back away. I will not let him intimidate me on my own construction site.
Steven takes another step.
Suddenly, Spock is between us. He moved so quickly and silently that I didn’t know he’d arrived until all I saw was the snarling dog on his kutte.
I sense movement near the door and know that Rush and Hawk are nearby to back up Spock.
Spock doesn’t raise his voice because he doesn’t need to; his presence speaks loudly.
“You need to step away from her.”
Steven looks from Spock to Rush and then to Hawk. Some of the anger drains from his expression, replaced by calculation.
“I wasn’t going to do anything.”
Spock remains perfectly still. “Then stepping back shouldn’t be a problem.”
Steven retreats a pace.
I draw a slow breath, fighting the shock rushing through me. If Spock hadn’t appeared, would Steven have stopped? I want to believe he would have. I’ve worked with him long enough to know he has a temper, but I’ve never believed he might hurt me. Until now.
Steven looks past Spock at me. “I’m frustrated. That’s all. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“No,” I say. “You shouldn’t have.”
His jaw flexes.
He snatches his hard hat from the floor but leaves the pry bar where it fell. “I’ll write up a report about the wiring tomorrow.”
“I want it first thing in the morning, along with the name of the electrician who discovered the problem.”
For a second, I think he might argue. Instead, his gaze flicks toward the three men surrounding me.
“Fine.”
Steven edges around Spock, giving him plenty of room. His boots crunch over the broken drywall as he heads into the hallway. None of us speaks until the sound of his footsteps disappears down the stairs.
Only then does Spock turn toward me.
His gaze moves over my face, searching for something. Fear, maybe. Or an injury Steven never had the chance to inflict.
“You okay?”
I nod automatically, but my attention shifts to the exposed wall behind him.
The wiring doesn’t look incomplete. The only problem I see is the gaping hole.