Page 98 of Caught in the Axe
“Gus helped with the lights. He’s an electrician.”
I shifted to face him. “I thought he ran the cutting operations.”
“He does. But he went to technical school to become an electrician. My dad thought it would be an asset to the company.”
At the mention of Gus, I immediately felt guilty. He’d caught us together and I’d run away like a child.
“I need to apologize, actually. When he walked in the other day, I panicked. I feel like such an idiot, leaving you to talk to him.”
“It’s fine. He’s my family, and we had a good talk.” His voice trailed off like there was something else he wanted to say. There was definitely a but coming.
“But I don’t love how this feels. I don’t want to hide you or my feelings for you. You’re worth so much more than that.”
And the realization of just how selfish I was being hit me square in the gut. Owen was patient, mature, and selfless. He was trying to build something with me. And I was acting like a child.
“I’m sorry,” I said, wringing my hands. “I want to be ready to tell people. But first, I need to talk to Cole.”
He froze. We’d danced around the Cole issue a few times, but we’d yet to dive in. Mainly because it was painful and awkward, and I wanted the small amount of time I had with Owen to be fun. But again, this was on me and my constant desire to avoid conflict.
“I’m almost ready,” I promised. “I just need to do this at my own pace.”
He put his arm around me and kissed the top of my head. It was a far kinder reaction than I deserved.
“Gus came around quickly. He’s just overprotective. But he helped me do all this.”
I relaxed into him, enjoying the change of subject. “A man of many talents.”
“You have no idea. He’s also a really accomplishedchainsaw artist, can cook like a Michelin star chef, and built his own house.”
“Overachiever,” I coughed into my hand.
Owen shrugged. “Oldest child syndrome. He’s one of those people who’s always learning something new, always pushing himself.” His tone implied some mockery, but in a lighthearted way.
I gave him a gentle shove. “Like you should talk, Mr. Ambitious Perfection.”
He put his hand on his chest and scoffed. “Me?”
I leaned forward, pulling him in for a kiss. “Yes, you. You set up an outdoor movie theater for me. You don’t need to try so hard.” I kissed him again.
He pulled me so close I was almost on top of him. He was always like this, urging me closer, his hands always on my body. It thrilled me.
“You were getting laid anyway,” I said, biting my lip.
He reared back a little, his brow furrowed, and gave me the stern daddy look that made my knees weak. “Lila, this has nothing to do with getting laid. I’m trying to show you how damn special you are.”
My heart practically floated right out of my chest at his sincerity. God, how did I have a chance in hell with this man?
I pulled him close and put my head on his chest. I knew I couldn’t keep him. That this couldn’t last forever. But was it wrong that I wanted it so badly?
“If you were home in Boston right now,” I asked, “what would you be doing?”
He blew out a breath. “On a Friday night? I’d be in my office,” he mused. “Enzo would stop byfor a beer, and Amara would stop by to drop off contracts and get some sassy comments in. And then I’d work.”
I snuggled closer. “And after?”
“In our younger days, Enzo and I would work late and then hit a bar or club, have a few drinks, and unwind.”
“And meet ladies?” I hated how clingy I sounded.
