Page 31

Keep telling yourself that.

And here I was thinking about Rory when I should be announcing my dream project. I shifted on my pumps, maintaining my smile.

“Apologies, Ms. Turner,” the reporter said. “Can’t help the curiosity.”

I nodded. Rory needed the good press, too, and who was I to not answer one little question that could help his image in the media? “Quite all right,” I said, smoothing down my fitted gray T which laid over my nicest blue jeans. I may be in heels, but I came here to get my hands dirty. “Mr. Jackson and I are together. Now they aren’t rumors, and we can discuss the matter at hand.” I motioned to the gorgeous building behind me.

The reporter grinned, and I took the silence to explain the intricacies of the project. By the time I was done, I had nearly cried twice. God, my emotions were all over the place. “As you can tell,” I dabbed at the corner of one eye that had traitorously given up one tear. “You can see how important this is to me, and to CranBaby Organics. This will be no ordinary shelter. It won’t simply feed and house Seattle’s homeless. It will give them resources, outreach programs, and training to get back the lives they once had. Our city deserves it, but more so, they do.”

A round of applause drowned out the sounds of the workers and volunteers inside the building, and I flashed the reporters my media worthy smile—not too much teeth, just enough lip. And after a quick round of questions, I thanked them all for coming and turned to step inside the building.

It was one thing to have a dream, and quite another to see it come to life.

The main level was perfect—a wide open floorplan that would be constructed into a warm, welcoming, not at all clinical lobby for those in need. I’d told my contractor I wanted them to feel as if they were checking into a hotel, not a poorly funded charity.

People hustled back and forth, carrying two by fours and tools and charts and wires. The buzz was intoxicating enough to steal my breath. Or maybe it was the face I easily recognized carting two massive pieces of wood over his shoulders that stopped my heart.

“Rory?” My voice squeaked from the shock of seeing him here.

He followed my voice until he spotted me standing there gaping at him. “Just a sec!” He called, hurrying across the massive room to drop the boards in a fastly growing pile. He strolled back toward me, his jeans dirtied with sawdust and grime. The white T-shirt he wore clung to his rock hard abs from the sweat dripping slowly down his arms.

The closer he got to me the harder it was to breathe, as if my heart filled up my entire chest so there was no room for air. Kissing my cheek once he reached me, I stood frozen.

He glanced down at my pumps before returning those crystal blue eyes to mine. “You know how fond I am of those,” he pointed to them. “But they aren’t really what I’d have you working in here.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh, so you’re the boss now?”

He smirked. “You like it when I’m in control.” He shifted closer to me. He smelled like fresh cut wood and one hundred percent man. “Admit it.”

I bit my bottom lip, the pain sharpening the wits I always lost around him. “What are you doing here?” I smiled as I gestured to the building around us.

“No practice today.”

“So on all non-practice days, you roam the city looking for charities in need?” I teased.

“Only ones who are headed up by gorgeous redheads.” A flush danced across my cheeks, and he grinned. “This is important to you. That makes it important to me.”

I swallowed hard, squinting at him as if that would make the truth easier to see. Was he saying that because it’s what a man in a relationship would say? Was he only behaving this way because it had been in our contract that we must act like a real couple? The lines were now so blurry I didn’t know how to draw new ones, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

Suddenly, the last thing I wanted to do was work. The only thing I wanted making me sweat was Rory.

“Later,” he whispered as if he could read my mind.

“Excuse me?” I asked, breathless.

He flashed me a knowing look and lightly trailed his fingers over the skin of my collarbone. “Later,” he repeated. “Now, we have work to do.” He winked and turned around, walking back across the room to where he’d dropped off the boards.

For a few moments, I stood rooted to the spot as I watched him ask my head contractor what needed to be done. The air grew thin again, and my heart took off like it had just joined a race. The feeling—the consuming, electric, pulsing, aching, need—filled every inch of available space inside my soul and it only awoke in the presence of one man. Rory.

Oh holy hell. I’m in love with him.

Somehow the crush I’d had for years had grown into something deeper, more meaningful as my eyes were opened to not just the guy I saw at Bailey and Gage’s, but the man he really was. The truth of the thought only added to the butterflies in my stomach followed quickly by a generous splash of ice cold fear. I was in love with a man I’d contracted to be with me for three months, and three months only.

A bad boy shark and a proper corporation princess had no real business being together. Nothing real enough to last. Did we?

“You coming, Red?” Rory’s voice drew me out of myself, and I tossed him a fake smile. The crease between his brow flashed. “You all right?”

“Yes, of course. Let’s get to work.” I hurried past him, seeking out my electrician and silently thanking him for using big words I could barely understand. It was enough to silence the excitement and fear blaring in my head, screaming the only thing that mattered at the moment.

I was in love, and it had an expiration date.

 

After working half the day away, I hadn’t successfully buried my worries, but I had successfully gotten good and dirty. Sweat soaked my jeans and shirt, the back of my neck, and my hands were covered in grime, but it felt good. The grit was a testament to how much we accomplished today and watching the crew rally and put into motion plans I’d dreamt of for years was a pile of icing on one hell of a cake.

“Let me take you home,” Rory said as we walked out of the building. The sun hung low in the sky fighting the good fight before night claimed it.

My heart fluttered in my chest, the same damn way it had every time he’d spoken to me since I realized I’d fallen for him. “All right,” I said and waved off my driver.