Thoughts I would never act on.
I yanked on my hair in frustration. I needed to get laid. That was the problem. It had been a while. A long while. I frowned as I tried to remember. The last woman I had been with was…
Fuck. I couldn’t even remember. I stared at the ceiling, trying to recall. It had been last year. Early last year. Sometime before Liv started with BAM.
What the coincidence had to do with it, I had no idea, but somehow the fact stuck in my mind.
Liv.
Pretty, funny, caring, and untouchable.
She was a coworker. Younger than me by seven years. A mother. Sweet, kind, and thoughtful. The kind of woman you didn’t mess around with. She was a forever, not a right now.
And I didn’t do forever. I tried it once and it failed.
Our relationship would stay professional.
It was the way it had to be.
I felt another ache start as memories of the past began to surface. The dark ones that pulled me in and reminded me why I chose to be alone.
Why I would never allow my heart to dictate my life.
Van
I couldn’t sleep. No matter what I tried, nothing helped. The long, hot shower I took after I got home barely took the edge off the constant ache. I had rubbed the pain-relief ointment into my shoulders and legs, swallowed more medication, but still, the throbbing persisted. Although I didn’t usually like being touched by strangers, the thought of someone working out the kinks in my neck and shoulders tempted me. Giving up on sleep, I sat up in bed, swinging my legs out and sitting on the edge of the mattress.
I would text Liv and ask for the number.
Liv.
She had been on my mind all night. Why I had no idea, but for some reason, the past couple of months, she’d slipped into my thoughts more than I cared to admit.
I liked working with her. She was bright and creative. She had a way of studying a room, or a drawing, and then with a few strokes of her hands, transforming a plain space into something beautiful. She could take the darkest spot and bring light into it. Change the feel and composition of an area with color and material. Her visions were incredible. She was patient and quiet—and a good listener. Clients loved her. Bentley trusted her completely, always accepting her vision of any project without question. We were lucky to have her at BAM. Her staff thought highly of her, and she treated them well. Level-headed and tolerant, she treated everyone around her with courtesy and respect. We had a great working relationship, one of mutual admiration. Our interactions were easy and filled with humor.
Yet lately, I had been wanting something different. I wanted to get to know her. Delve into the private person behind the loose clothing, extraordinary eyes, and brilliant mind and find Liv. It was an odd sensation—one I had never thought I would experience again. Something I wasn’t sure I should allow myself to attempt. Yet, the feeling persisted. There was something about her that drew me to her, and it had only grown in the months I had known her, no matter how I tried to fight it—or deny it. Maybe I was tired of fighting it. Or maybe I was finally ready to try again. All I knew was that for the first time in years, I wanted something more. I wanted her. She was sweet, intelligent, and articulate. Sexy as hell with an understated beauty I found intriguing. It was a wicked combination.
In the bathroom mirror, I studied my face. I looked tired, the lines around my eyes more prominent than usual. The long scar across my shoulder and arm was puckered and twisted—a reminder of why getting close to someone wasn’t a good idea. I scrubbed at my face, too exhausted to bother trying to shave, and stepped into the shower, adjusting the water as hot as I could stand it, hoping another shower would help dispel the aches. Bracing my arms against the tile, I rolled my shoulders, letting the heat soak in and loosen my muscles. I stood there until the water became tepid, then quickly washed and shut off the tap. The room was steamy, the condensation running down the glass, endless rivulets of water going nowhere.
Sort of like my life.
Too restless to stay home, I went into the office. As usual this early on a Saturday, Toronto was quieter, traffic thinner, and I arrived quickly. I parked my truck by the loading dock, somehow not surprised to see Jordan’s SUV parked in its spot. Grateful the café in the building opened early, even on a Saturday, I went directly there, grabbing coffee and a box of the pastries we devoured on a regular basis. Rhonda, the owner, grinned at me as she handed me the box.
“Fueling up for a busy day, Van?”
“They’re not all for me.” I winked.
Her husband, Bob, chuckled as he passed me the tray with four coffees. “And these aren’t all yours?”
“Jordan’s around somewhere. I’m sure some of the crew will wander in, and I never know when Aiden is going to show up.”
Rhonda laughed, tucking a strand of white hair behind her ear. “That man and his lemon Danish. I put three in the box in case.”
I slid the coffee tray on top of the box of pastries. “Thanks, Rhonda.”
“Anytime.”
I cut through the back of the hall, using my pass to get through the door that led to the private part of the BAM building. In our office, Jordan had his head bent over a stack of paperwork, the pile of completed documents beside him as large as the one he was currently working on. I hated paperwork, but Jordan excelled at it, making sure we were covered for permits, licenses, agreements, anything we needed to complete a job and stay on track. He handled it all with his exacting attention to detail and calm attitude.
“You look like you need this as much as I do.” I interrupted him.
He glanced up, his green eyes tired behind his glasses. But his smile was warm and approachable, and he greeted me with his usual affability.
“You are a life-saver.”
I handed him a coffee and popped open the box of pastries. He took a cherry Danish and bit into it with a groan. “Manna from heaven.”
I snagged a lemon, my favorite as well as Aiden’s, and chewed the fresh, sweet pastry with appreciation. I sat at my desk, sipped my coffee, and ate two pastries.
“What you are working on?”
“More Ridge Towers. Phase Two. Plus going over the new plans for Ridge Estates.” He chuckled and finished his Danish, wiping his mouth. “The boys are keeping me busy.”
“They always do.”
He sorted through his pile of folders and handed me a gray-colored stack. Every person had their own color. “These are yours for the next few flips you’ll be working on. Everything is in order.”
I took the files. “Awesome.”
“I haven’t had a chance to delve into Bentley’s new acquisition.”
“The deserted cabin?”
“Yes.” He shook his head. “Only Bentley.”
“Exactly what I said.”
He picked up his pen, laughing. “Great job security.”
I turned to my desk, flipping open the first file. “That it is.”
I worked for the next while, sorting and listing the projects, making notes and entering information into my laptop and adding it to my calendar. Despite my teasing with Liv, I did use the technology to my advantage for work. I still preferred my handwritten notes, but only I saw those. My crew and Jordan could access the details when needed on the shared drive. Jordan worked for another hour, then left, although he grabbed a croissant before heading out.