Chapter Seventeen Spock
The second Chloe slides off the back of my bike, I know the short ride affected her every bit as much as it affected me. Maybe more.
She steps away too quickly, putting several feet between us before she removes her helmet. Her movements are controlled, almost painfully so. She smooths one hand over her hair, then tugs at the hem of her shirt as if either action might hide the flush staining her cheeks.
It doesn’t.
I bite back a grin as I climb off my bike and set the kickstand. We drove for less than thirty minutes, but Chloe spent every second of it pressed against my back, her thighs tight around my hips and her arms wrapped around my waist.
It felt so fucking perfect.
My awareness of her body against mine hasn’t faded. If anything, watching her struggle to regain control makes it worse. I can still feel the weight of her soft breasts against my back. The heat of her thighs against mine. The way her grip tightened whenever I accelerated.
I ask her if everything is fine; her response is brusque. She mumbles something about needing to check on the progress. She glances at me, and I can see the hot lust burning in her eyes.
It hits me like a fist to the chest. The thrill that races through me is almost enough to make me forget we’re standing in the middle of one of her construction sites with Rush and Hawk watching us.
Almost.
My mouth curves despite my attempt to stop it.
Then she takes off toward the apartment building like all she can think about is escaping.
I watch her go, unable to stop myself from admiring the sway of her hips. I’m amused by her retreat, but only because focusing on her reaction keeps me from dealing with my own.
Having Chloe plastered against my back nearly destroyed every ounce of control I possess.
I spent the entire ride imagining how she would feel pressed against my front instead.
No clothes between us. Her legs wrapped around my hips.
Her mouth under mine while I learn whether she tastes as good as I’ve imagined.
My jeans tighten at the thought.
Fuck.
“You planning to stand there all night?”
Rush’s voice drags me back to reality.
I turn to find him beside his bike, one eyebrow raised. He follows my gaze toward the building, then smirks.
“Not a word,” I warn.
He raises both hands. “Didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking it loud enough.”
Hawk’s attention shifts between me and Chloe’s retreating figure. If he notices anything, he has the sense not to comment.
“Everything’s been quiet,” he says. “Crew’s finished up for the day.”
I nod, forcing my attention back to the reason we’re here. “Good. We’ll get the cameras installed before it gets dark.”
Rush opens one of his saddlebags and pulls out the equipment Spark gave him. I move to help, but my gaze drifts toward the entrance where Chloe disappeared.
One ride across the highway wasn’t nearly enough. When I take her back to her truck, I’m taking the long way.
Rush unzips the padded equipment bag and starts handing out cameras, mounting brackets, and boxes of screws.
“Hawk, take the east side,” he says. “Spock, you want the front or the back?”
“The front.” I take three cameras from him. “I want a clear view of every vehicle that pulls onto the property.”
Hawk studies the side of the building. “I can mount one high enough to cover the alley and most of the rear lot.”
“Make sure you get the gate,” Rush tells him. “Anyone coming in that way should pass directly beneath it.”
We split up and get to work.
I climb the ladder and mount the first camera near the front corner of the building.
From there, it has a clear view of the driveway, parking area, and main entrance.
Anyone entering or leaving the property will be recorded.
It covers the blind spots the cameras the prospects put up the day before missed.
I install the second camera above the construction office door before I take the third inside. The office is little more than a tin can. A battered desk sits in one corner beneath a window, surrounded by stacks of paperwork, rolled blueprints, and material samples.
I choose a spot near the ceiling that provides a view of the door, window, and desk.
“What are you doing?”
I glance over my shoulder and find Rush leaning against the doorframe, watching me tighten the mounting bracket.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Installing a camera where you can spy on Chloe.”
I stare at him.
He lifts both hands. “Just pointing out how she might see it.”
“The office is a logical target. If someone is sabotaging her projects, they may come in here looking for plans, schedules, contracts, or employee information.”
“I know.” He steps inside and studies the camera’s placement. “But Chloe might not like knowing you can watch what she’s doing in her office.”
“I’m not hiding it from her.”
Rush arches an eyebrow.
“I plan to walk Chloe through the property and show her the location of every camera,” I explain. “If she balks at having one in here, I’ll take it down.”
“That sounds almost reasonable.”
“Fuck off.”
His grin widens. “I’m just trying to keep you from screwing things up with your woman before she agrees she’s your woman.”
I finish securing the bracket and climb down. “Chloe isn’t my woman.”
“Sure.”
“Yet,” I say with a grin.
We carry the remaining cameras into the apartment building. Most of the interior walls are enclosed with sheetrock, but exposed framing, pipes, and wiring remain. The fading daylight filters through empty window openings, casting long shadows across the concrete floor.
“We should put one near each stairwell,” Rush says. “Maybe another at the rear entrance.”
I nod, but before I can answer, a raised voice echoes through the building.
I stop moving.
The words are distorted by distance, but the tone is unmistakable. It’s full of anger.
Then I hear Chloe’s voice.
My entire body locks.
She sounds pissed, not frightened, but that doesn’t slow my pulse. Another voice cuts over hers. It’s male, aggressive, and familiar. I should recognize it, but I’m already moving before I can place it.
“Spock?” Rush calls after me.
I shove the camera into his hands and follow the sound through the maze of rooms and corridors. Chloe’s voice grows clearer with every step.
“That project requires my attention,” she snaps. “So does this one. That’s why I have a foreman, you.”
The man answers, but I miss the words as I round another corner and come to a stop in an open doorway. Chloe is standing near a pile of broken drywall. She’s facing off against Blackwood with her chin in the air, and her shoulders squared. But it’s the expression on his face that quickens my pace.
Then he takes a slow, menacing step toward her.
Something inside me snaps, and I see red. One second, Chloe stands alone in front of him. The next, I push myself between them, forcing Blackwood to either stop or run straight into me.
He makes the smart move and stops.
“You got a problem, Blackwood?” I ask.
My voice comes out low and controlled, giving no hint of the rage tearing through me. Every muscle in my body strains with the need to put him on the ground. How dare he try to intimidate her?
Blackwood’s eyes narrow. “This is a private conversation between my boss and me.”
“Funny, it didn’t sound like you were having a conversation. It sounded like you were threatening her.”
“I didn’t threaten anyone.”
“You took a threatening step toward me,” Chloe says from behind me. “There’s a difference between being angry and trying to intimidate someone. You crossed that line.”
Blackwood attempts to look around me, but I shift, blocking his view.
His jaw tightens. “Tell your guard dog to back off.”
My hands curl into fists.
Barely controlled anger burns beneath my skin, begging for release. I force myself to remain still. Blackwood wants a confrontation. Whether it’s because he’s an arrogant bastard or because he needs an excuse to walk away from this mess, I don’t know.
I won’t give him one.
Chloe moves to my side. “Spock doesn’t work for me, so I don’t tell him what to do.”
Blackwood scoffs. “Of course not.”
“We’re done here,” she says. “Go home. We’ll discuss this tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to inspect the damage.”
“I told you what happened.”
“And I told you I’ll inspect it myself.”
For several seconds, Blackwood stares at her. I see resentment flash in his eyes before he turns and stalks away.
I wait until his footsteps fade before following Chloe toward the destroyed wall. I glance where Rush and Hawk stand at the ready. I give them a subtle shake of my head. Hawk leaves to follow Blackwood out, while Rush stares after them.
Chloe crouches beside the pile of broken drywall and picks up a jagged piece. Exposed wiring runs between the studs. I’m not sure what happened here, but I can tell Chloe isn’t happy.
“What do you see?” I ask.
She studies the wires, then examines the broken edges of the drywall. “I don’t know yet.”
“That wall was already finished?”
“Yes. Taped, mudded, and ready for primer.” She rises and runs her fingers along one of the studs. “Blackwood claims the crew hung the drywall before confirming the electrical work was complete.”
“Could that happen?”
“Not with my crew. Not unless someone gave them the wrong information.”
I look toward the doorway where Blackwood disappeared. “Someone like the foreman?”
“Maybe.” Chloe steps back, her gaze moving over the entire wall. “But something is off about this whole thing.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.” Her expression hardens. “But I intend to find out.”