Chapter 36
Kade
Isit back in my chair, jaw tight as my eyes scan the screen. Glen Woods. Again. The guy’s been relentless, blowing up Liv’s inbox every damn day asking about suppliers, materials, even the company’s history like he’s planning to write a damn book on us. And now this.
From: Glen Woods
To: Jenkins Construction LTD
Kade,
I’ll be bringing my camper out to the property and staying on site periodically while the work takes place, just to keep an eye on things. Keep everything above board. Hope that’s not a problem.
G. Woods
I blow out a sharp breath and rub the back of my neck. The job doesn’t even start until next week. He signed the contract and paid in full weeks ago—everything’s set—and somehow, I’m more on edge now than I was before.
Something about this isn’t right.
I shove back from my desk and head across the hall to Brandon’s office. He’s half-buried in invoices but looks up when I walk in.
“Glen Woods, is his money in the account?” I ask, cutting to the chase.
“Work hasn’t even started yet, has it?” Brandon says as he taps a few keys on his laptop. His eyes widen. “Fuck. Yeah, it’s there. Full payment, reference says Glen Woods, but the payment came from a business account. Initials ‘CC.’”
I let out a slow breath. That’s new.
“Did you see his latest email?”
Brandon shakes his head. “No. I’ve been stuck in the accounts.”
“He wants to live in a camper on-site while the work’s happening,” I mutter, pacing a slow line across the office. “Says he wants to ‘keep an eye on things.’ He’s been all over Liv’s inbox for supplier lists, material breakdowns, and the company’s history for no damn reason. It’s nonstop.”
Brandon leans back, frowning now. “You think he’s trouble?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Just feels wrong. Too eager. Too involved. And this camper thing? What’s he gonna do, sit out there with binoculars while we work?”
Brandon huffs, but he isn’t smiling. “Long as he stays out of the way.”
“A building site’s not a safe place to be living,” I say, shaking my head. “Especially when we’re practically tearing down the whole damn house.”
“Email him back,” Brandon says, pushing his chair back.
“Give him your professional advice, and that you’re strongly against it.
But if he insists, get him to sign a waiver.
Make it tight. I don’t want some scratch on his camper or twisted ankle becoming our problem.
And make it crystal clear, he doesn’t set foot in or around the house while construction’s happening. ”
I nod, jaw tight again. “Yeah. I’ll handle it.”
I slump back in my chair as soon as I’m back in my office, dragging a hand over my face before clicking open the email that’s been giving me a damn headache all morning.
From: Jenkins Construction LTD
To: Glen Woods
Thank you for your email, Mr. Woods.
I can confirm we’ve received your full payment along with the signed contract. As you’re aware, work on your property is scheduled to begin in next week.
Regarding your intention to live on-site in a camper, I have to strongly advise against it. For safety reasons, I wouldn’t recommend occupying the property during construction, especially since the site will be unattended in the evenings.
Kind Regards,
Kade
I hit send and let out a breath, rubbing my hand across my brow, trying to ease the tension gathering there. It’s no good. The ache’s lodged deep.
A knock at the door pulls me out of it. I glance up, and the second I see her, everything eases.
Liv.
“Bad time?” she asks, hovering in the doorway.
“No, perfect time. Come here,” I say, pushing my chair back from the desk.
She walks in, setting a coffee down in front of me before sliding herself up onto the edge of the desk, facing me. My eyes track every movement, my hands aching to reach out as I shift forward, spreading my legs and pulling her between them.
I drag my hands up her thighs, slow and deliberate, until they settle at her waist, anchoring her close.
The tension bleeding from my body has nothing to do with the coffee.
And everything to do with her.
“Tough day?” she asks, running her fingers through my hair. I groan, leaning into the feel of her nails against my scalp.
“It’s better now,” I smirk.
“Anything I can help with?” she says, her voice soft and innocent.
My mind goes straight to her on her knees in front of me, her lips wrapped around my cock, and I can’t stop the grin that pulls at my mouth. “There’s so much you could do to help,” I say, lifting my head to meet her eyes as my hand slides down to her ass. I squeeze, slow and possessive.
She lets out a soft laugh, amused but serious. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
I lean back in my chair, reluctantly pulling my hands off her body as I adjust myself through my pants. Her eyes flick down, tracking the movement, and I catch the way her tongue slips out to wet her bottom lip.
Fuck me.
I drag my gaze back up to her face, my pulse already picking up.
Her eyes flick back to mine, and for a second, neither of us says anything. The air between us tightens, charged and thick.
She swallows, shifts slightly on the desk, but I catch the hitch in her breath.
“You keep looking at me like that,” I choke out, voice low and strained, “and I’m not gonna make it through the rest of the day.”
A soft blush rises in her cheeks, but she doesn’t look away. Instead, she tips her head, fingers brushing the back of my neck. “Maybe that’s the point,” she whispers.
A groan slips from me as I grip the arms of my chair, fighting the urge to pull her straight into my lap. “Liv,” I warn, the sound more plea than threat.
She smiles, soft, wicked, and way too tempting, and then leans down, her lips brushing my forehead. “Be good,” she teases.
I huff out a breathless laugh. “Impossible.”
She slides off the desk, but I catch her wrist before she can fully escape, tugging her close enough for a quick kiss—a soft drag of her lips over mine, just enough to taste her.
“This weekend’s Fourth of July,” I whisper against her mouth. “Mayridge throws a big party. Come with me?”
“I always want to come with you,” she says, pulling back just enough for her lips to curve into a smirk, her eyes flashing with mischief.
I groan, tipping my head back with a helpless laugh as she walks away, leaving me hard as hell and trapped in the memory of last night.
The way she broke apart beneath me—shaking, gasping, clinging to me like I was the only thing keeping her grounded.
No one else has ever seen her like that. The thought hits something primal in me, sharp and possessive, a growl clawing at the back of my throat.
She’s mine.
And fuck if that doesn’t make me want to pull her back in here and do it all over again.
I exhale sharply, dragging a hand through my hair, trying to shove thoughts of Liv to the back of my mind.
As if a bucket of ice water just got dumped over me, my inbox pings with another goddamn email from Glen Woods.
Of course.
I click it open.
From: Glen Woods
To Jenkins Construction LTD
Thank you for the prompt reply, Kade.
I understand your concerns, but I’m not too worried.
I have the means to ensure my own comfort and security, and frankly, I like to be close to my investments.
I’m sure your crew is more than capable, but having the client on-site tends to keep things moving smoothly. It’s just my way of doing things.
G. Woods
I lean back, letting out a slow breath through my nose.
So that’s how it’s going to be.
Polite. Smooth. But underneath it, arrogant as hell. The kind of guy who thinks his money gives him a seat at the table he doesn’t belong at.
I sit forward again, fingers drumming against the edge of the desk, my jaw tight enough to crack.
Brandon’s right—we’ll draft the waiver. We’ll cover our asses. But this? This doesn’t sit right. No client has ever wanted to live on-site. It’s not just unusual, it’s unsettling.
I tap out a reply, short and professional, telling him we’ll have the legal side drawn up but reminding him the property is still an active construction zone and not a residence.
The second I hit send; I can’t shake the feeling in my chest.
This client is going to be more hassle than he’s worth.