His gut clenched. He might still have doubts, but he admired her tenacity and determination. She’d changed from the shy, uncertain girl who’d once looked to him to make all her decisions. This company meant something important to her. And God knows, she’d grown up in his household—more of a family member than a casual friend. She deserved his respect, and it was time he stopped questioning her abilities.

“I can give you that,” he said. “I want us to be able to work together. Move forward. I can try if you will.”

“I can try.” Her husky voice scraped across his nerve endings. The tentative smile grew bigger, until those lush lips were stretched into a joyous grin that did strange things to his insides. She’d always been an emotional giver—never afraid to soothe, nurture, touch. She cried big, laughed loud, and refused to shy away from silliness. It had been a long time since he’d been on the receiving end of one of her true smiles, and he remembered how special it felt, as if he were the only man in the world to make her happy.

He smiled back.

The connection always humming in the background exploded full force, filling the musty attic with an electric sexual surge that practically charged the air. Suddenly lust hit him, sending him to his knees with the urge to close the distance between them and kiss her, strip her, claim her. Because she’d always been his.

He stumbled back a step. The raw, primitive thoughts tangled with his arousal and put him into a brief panic. No, dammit. He’d just agreed to a truce, and he wasn’t going to get sidelined again by a connection fueled by the past.

“Can I ask you something?”

He shuddered and prayed she wouldn’t. What if she felt the same energy pulsing between them? What if she asked him questions he couldn’t answer—questions that haunted him in the night when his defenses were gone? His voice came out rusty. “What?”

Her beautiful face tilted up toward him. Her lips parted. Her eyes flickered with longing.

“You don’t happen to have a granola bar in your pocket, do you?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“I’m so damn hungry.”

Her meaning cut through his clogged thoughts.

And then he laughed. She joined in, and for a little while, everything was good.

“What time is it?”

He shifted his weight. “About five minutes after the last time you asked me.”

She groaned. “It smells in here. I’m still hungry. And bored. What time is it?”

He glanced at the watch on his right wrist. “Five twenty-five. Six minutes after the last time you asked me.”

“Why do you wear expensive suits and jewelry to a job site?”

He frowned. “I don’t wear jewelry. You must have confused me with Dalton.”

“That silver watch has some bling,” she pointed out. “And your matching cuff links can be spotted a mile away.”

Irritation trickled through him. “This is man stuff, not jewelry. Dalton wore an earring and a man bun. Go give him a hard time.”

“I don’t like it when you look better than me,” she grumbled.

“Why don’t women understand how hot they are in a natural state? Sure, I love the suits and heels and red lips, but this is real. I’ll take this outfit on you any time.” Her mouth fell open, and he quickly backtracked, realizing he’d given too much away. “I mean, on all women,” he said.

“Right. Well, right now I have a headache, and I’d give my left arm for a bottle of water.” She reached up, ripping out her hair tie, and those fiery red strands broke free in abandoned glory. His gut clenched with the need to reach out and touch her hair. It had been so long. He’d always been obsessed with her curls and the way they wrapped tight around his fingers and hung on.

His mouth dried up. “Yeah, wish I had water, too,” he muttered. “We should be rescued soon. I heard my cell phone ringing down there steadily.”

She massaged her temples and stretched. “Distract me.”

Unfortunately, he could think of many pleasurable ways to distract her. Most of them involved his mouth, hands, and tongue. He bit back a groan and tried to focus. “Wanna tell scary stories?”

She shuddered and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. “Hell no. Are you happy about Morgan and Cal getting married?”

He relaxed. This subject he could handle. “Definitely. It’s going to get lonely rattling around in the mansion alone. Dalton just moved in with Raven, and Cal will be closing on the new house. Lots of changes lately.”

“Is Cal taking the dogs?”

He nodded. “They belong to Cal, though we all love those goofballs.” Cal had rescued two mastiff puppies found chained to a tree and taken them in as his own. Now those puppies towered as big and tall as Tristan. They’d flunked out of obedience school twice and failed at listening to any commands, but they were full of love and affection, making everyone around them smile.

“Maybe you can get a dog, too.”

“Maybe. I’m more worried about what I’m going to do about dinner. Morgan spoiled all of us.”

“You didn’t cook when you were in the city?”

“Most of the time I was too busy. There were a ton of restaurants that delivered, and I ate out a lot with clients.”

“Your mom would be ashamed.”

He smiled, even though his heart felt a pang. His mom had been the only soft spot in his life, always there to support, comfort, or listen. Many times he wished for just one more day with her so he’d be able to apologize for ever taking her for granted. “She would’ve just told me to get married so my wife would cook.”

Sydney rolled her eyes. “That comment alone would’ve gotten you smacked. Your mom didn’t raise you to be like Brady.”

“True. Though, Brady has certainly changed since meeting Charlie.” He’d never seen his architect so smitten with a woman. Usually he was the one who was walking away if she didn’t follow the rules of what he believed was the perfect mate for him. “I wish Mom could’ve met Morgan, Raven, and Charlie. I think she would’ve liked them.”

“Me too.” A short silence descended. “I miss her so much. I miss sitting in her kitchen and watching her cook while she talked about you guys.”

His breath caught at the surge of warmth flowing between them. How many times had he entered his house to find Sydney in the kitchen laughing with his mom? She’d been the one to hold and comfort him when they found out about Diane’s death. She was the only one to truly understand what a hole his mother had left in all of their lives. His throat tightened with emotion. “I miss her, too,” he said softly. “You were like the daughter she never had. She used to warn me all the time about you.”