Make Me Want

by Rebecca Brooks

  Chapter Five

  There were only two seats left at the conference table. One was next to Tyler. And the other was next to Russ.

  Tyler watched her deliberate for half a second, but even she couldn’t justify choosing Russ over him. Which was good, because Tyler had been getting death stares the entire time they’d been sitting there, and he really didn’t want to give the dickhead any reason to be feeling smug right now.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Abbi said as she slid into the seat, not even looking at Tyler. But when she saw Russ eyeing them, she must have remembered she was supposed to not hate Tyler’s guts and tried for a smile.

  It didn’t come off very well. Although even frazzled and ticked off, she still looked so damn hot when she flashed those streaks of blue in her hair.

  They began with introductions. Walker Reynolds and Chip Fields were the two Forest Service representatives assigned to oversee the regulations. They’d hired Tyler and would be his most recent references for whatever his next job would be, so he had to stay on their good side. They were also the ones who had to field petitions raised against the firebreak—petitions Tyler knew didn’t hold any water, since the people who objected never understood how firebreaks worked.

  Walker and Chip reviewed the specs and then asked Tyler to present the plan he’d developed. He’d do a walkthrough of the land before they started construction, but based on the research he’d done and the Forest Service’s preliminary request, he had a pretty good idea of what he was doing. He was pleased to see nods from the two men and even a grunt of approval from Russ.

  After all, it was only because Tyler was making this happen that Russ had his contract. In a way that Tyler didn’t want to think about too hard, he and Russ were on the same side.

  “We’re well within state laws regarding wildlife preservation,” Tyler added as a reminder to Abbi that he was not the asshole here. “And we’ll be able to use some of the natural barriers as part of our construction. I can assure you that nothing will be chopped down that doesn’t have to be.”

  He looked over, hoping to see more of the woman who’d taken him to the gazebo and less of the woman who’d left him there. But her expression gave him nothing to work with. Was she seriously still mad just because she was wrong on this one little thing?

  Walker noted that Washington’s laws were less strict than California’s when it came to fire suppression, so Tyler would have more leeway over where the firebreak should turn along the ridge. “Our priority is protecting homes and businesses in Gold Mountain,” he said. “Use your discretion and I’m sure we’ll be all set to approve whatever you plan.”

  Beside him, Tyler heard Abbi make a noise in the back of her throat. A snort? A laugh?

  He was sort of curious and sort of dreading it when she opened her mouth to speak.

  “It’s great that everyone’s in agreement before seeing the final proposal,” she said, nicely enough that Walker and Chip nodded, still “Abbi” enough that Tyler was immediately on edge. “But before we assume this is a done deal, I have a few questions.”

  “We know about the protests you’ve received, Miss Haas,” Chip interrupted, uselessly trying to get a piece of his wilting comb-over back into place. “I’m sure you understand that we all want what’s best for the Cascades and the communities that call this town home.”

  “Please,” Abbi said, dripping with sweetness that made even bored Russ sit up in confusion. “Call me Abbi. And I know many of the petitions that come your way aren’t well founded—I’ve seen plenty of them cross my desk, too.” A pause for a shared titter before she plunged on. “But first, the homes and businesses you’re concerned about protecting in Gold Mountain—are they using fire resistant building materials? Have they considered where and how they’re building? What practices are they taking in the town to limit the damage caused by potential fire outbreaks before jumping to bulldozing as the easy solution?”

  Walker and Chip glanced at each other. Walker’s hand went to his mustache, Chip’s to that infernal strand of hair.

  “The buildings are up to code,” Russ said defensively.

  “I’m sure they are. But being up to code and being in the best position to address the current fire risk aren’t the same thing. It seems like something our Forest Service representatives might want to be certain of before they sign off on any construction.”

  A slight fidget between the two representatives, and then Abbi went on. She asked how the firebreak would work with the buffer zones already in place close to town. She asked for evidence the firebreak would add something to the precautions they’d already taken. When she requested a more thorough survey of the species that would be impacted by the loss of habitat brought about by construction, Tyler’s jaw clenched. Russ sank down in his chair with an audible groan. And Walker and Chip conceded that yes, they’d be willing to see more in order avoid a lengthy public hearing that could drag the project out indefinitely.

  “I’m particularly concerned about endangered species like the spotted owl,” she said. “If we find evidence of nesting anywhere near the firebreak site, there’s no way construction can go forward.”

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Tyler said, trying to be as freaking polite as Abbi and failing miserably, “I thought you hired me to oversee this project.”

  “We just need to make sure everything is covered before we go in with that bulldozer,” Walker said, visibly starting to sweat at the mention of the word “endangered.”

  Russ shot up. “Are you telling me we don’t have a deal?”

  Chip motioned for him to calm down. “We’ve accepted your bid. As soon as the firebreak is formally approved, our contract with you will be signed.”

  “I put good work on hold to make sure I was available,” Russ said.

  “Which is why I’m sure you’ll want to make sure this process is done right.” Abbi stared him down across the table. Tyler was glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of that look—at least for right now.

  He’d thought he was so smooth, walking up to her at the bar and pretending to be her boyfriend. He’d imagined she’d be nothing but grateful. He hadn’t given a second thought to her life here, her job, her own messy complications.

  He wished she’d told him who she was so he could have found a way to reassure her beforehand that this wasn’t going to go as badly as she’d feared.

  But he knew that wouldn’t have changed anything. He couldn’t talk her out of her position.

  And he couldn’t agree with her—not if he hoped to keep this job and still have options come August nineteenth. There was no way he’d get hired for a full-time gig anywhere if all his resume showed were mistakes.

  Somehow in the course of his first weekend here, he’d managed to take a done deal and fuck it all up. He’d thought the Forest Service was set to move forward. Any objections that had been raised so far hadn’t been enough to slow down the project, let alone stop it altogether.

  But Abbi had come to the meeting stocked with everything she had. Fire codes. State regulations. Anything she could find to make Walker and Chip pause.

  What would Scotty do—besides laugh at him for choosing the exact wrong woman to pick up? Probably tell him to push harder and not shy away.

  From the job, Scott would mean. Not the woman. For Scott’s priorities, work always came first.

  Tyler turned away from the sparkle of Abbi’s hair. He owed it to his friend not to get off track.

  …

  Abbi’s legs were shaking when she left the meeting, but she walked fast enough down the hallway and toward her office that she didn’t think anyone would notice. Even if she hadn’t stopped the whole project outright, she’d at least managed to buy herself time.

  She was thinking so furiously about what to do with that time that she wasn’t watching where she was going and walked right into Russ.

  “Watch it,” she said, flustered, even though it was her fault.

  He whirled on her and even
before he said anything, she flinched.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” he snarled, cigarette breath hot in her face. “Even Romeo’s not going to want to put up with you after a stunt like that.”

  “Someone who wants to be with me doesn’t put up with me,” Abbi snapped. “I’m not some child.”

  “Then stop acting like one. I need this contract.”

  “I’m sorry, Russ.” She held up her palms, trying to be conciliatory. At least they were in public. He wouldn’t do anything in the hallway—would he? “I’m not trying to hurt your business. But I have to worry about my job, too, and my responsibilities to the land here.”

  “And your boyfriend’s job?” he asked with a sneer, loading that word until it made Abbi cringe. “Cut the crap. How are you still pretending you even know the guy when it was obvious in that meeting that he just got here this weekend?”

  For a second Abbi felt relief. This was her chance to let it go and admit that she and Tyler only met on Saturday night—and were never doing anything again. They could stop the lie and everything would go back to normal.

  But no matter how much she wanted to put this behind her, she knew it was too late to come clean. If Russ found out he’d been played, he’d really be after her—and not just to soothe his bruised ego after being dumped. Could he take it out on her via the firebreak? His construction company? She didn’t want to find out.

  “We met a couple of months ago, when he came up here to see about the job,” she said, thinking fast. “We’ve been long distance since then. And, well, now that he’s here—” She held up her palms, hoping she didn’t need to spell it out any further.

  But to continue with the lie felt unbearable—especially when she’d barely been able to look at Tyler in the conference room. It wasn’t only because she was mad at him. That at least she could handle. But freshly shaven, in a Henley shirt and jeans, his eyes on every move she made, she’d wanted him even more than when he was still a stranger across the bar.

  She had to stop thinking about him that way. What happened at the gazebo could never happen again. Anyway, it wasn’t like Tyler was going to put up with her anymore, as Russ had so charmingly put it.

  “As far as the job, Tyler and I are able to work together and make our own choices,” she went on diplomatically. She was sure Russ was going to laugh in her face at what obvious bullshit that was.

  But instead he took a step forward so she was backed against the wall.

  “I don’t give a shit about you and Tyler. I’m telling you—” His palm hit the plaster by her head, hard enough to make her flinch. “Fuck this up for me, and you’ll be sorry.”

  Chapter Six

  “Are you threatening my girlfriend?”

  Tyler kicked himself for lingering so long in the conference room after Abbi had left. He’d told himself he’d been giving her space. But it was more like delaying when they’d have to run into each other one-on-one and figure out how to act.

  But when he finally walked out, he heard shouting. Adrenaline kicked in before thought. He was up in Russ’s face in an instant, pushing the man back from where he’d cornered Abbi in the hall.

  “This is between me and Abbi,” Russ said.

  “And yet I distinctly heard you tell my girlfriend she’d be sorry.” The lie felt wrong. He had no right to be possessive.

  But regardless of how he felt about Abbi at the moment, he wasn’t going to leave her on her own when it came to this creep.

  “Are you okay?” Tyler touched Abbi’s arm. He wasn’t faking his concern.

  A flash of irritation crossed her eyes, but she smothered it and said, “I’m fine. Russ was just leaving.”

  He thought Abbi would be grateful once Russ stormed off. He thought she’d at least thank him for still giving a shit after what she’d put him through in that meeting with Walker and Chip. But as soon as Russ was out of earshot, she turned on him. “I don’t need you to keep doing that.”

  “I know,” Tyler said.

  “Then stop!”

  He stared at her. “Russ was pushing you into a corner. You want me to see that and do nothing?”

  “Saturday night was fun, okay? But that was it. A onetime deal. I didn’t know we’d find ourselves one fucked-up little family at my workplace.”

  He hadn’t expected anything more from that night, either. But to hear her dismiss it as “fun,” like it was so forgettable—like he was so forgettable—made him seethe. He worked damn hard, and he wasn’t used to being overlooked by the people he’d saved.

  “All the more reason a thank you would be appropriate right about now,” he said, fighting the urge to press her against the wall, hitch her legs around him, and remind her who he was.

  “I can fight my own battles, Tyler. I don’t need you hovering around.”

  “Great. Next time I see Russ look like he’s going to bite your head off, I’ll sit back and grab the popcorn.”

  Abbi glanced down the hall. When she saw they were alone she leaned closer—but not for the reasons he might have hoped. “I’m not going to fuck you again just because I owe you,” she hissed. “So stop making me owe you.”

  Tyler blinked. “That’s not why I—”

  “Just back off. Okay?”

  But he couldn’t. There was no way he could see someone in trouble and turn the other way. After his father shipped him off to his mother, he’d realized how expendable he was. So he made sure his mother would never want to get rid of him. He did the laundry, fixed the leaks, finished every task before she needed to ask—and most of the chores she never thought of to begin with.

  Abbi didn’t understand. He wasn’t helping her because he didn’t think she was capable, or because he thought that was the way into her pants.

  He was helping her because the only thing he knew how to do was be useful. Because there was no other way.

  But even he had his limits. “You know what?” he said. “I give up. Good luck doing everything on your own. I’m sure the Forest Service is going to change its mind all because of you.”

  “Then you shouldn’t be at all worried about your job.”

  “My job is going to be fine,” he snapped. “It’s your promotion that’s never going to happen.”

  He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He had to remind himself that at least she had a job, even if she didn’t get promoted. If he slacked off on this firebreak, he had no idea what he’d do next.

  “I’m glad to see your self-esteem isn’t suffering,” she said dryly.

  He held up his hands. “You know I don’t mean it like that. This just sucks for both of us.”

  He thought she was going to bite back with some comeback, but instead the look on her face faltered, and she sighed. “Listen, I told Russ that you came up here two months ago to scope out the area, and that’s how we met. Not that we’re ever going to sit around talking to him about it. But we should at least be on the same page in case it comes up.”

  He opened his mouth to ask what the hell she’d just made up about him, and how much longer he was supposed to say he was her boyfriend without, apparently, stepping in and acting like it. And were there really signs of an endangered species nesting near the firebreak site?

  But before he could say anything, she turned on her heel and left.

  She walked into what must have been her office down the hall. He heard the lock turn decisively and the blinds flip down.

  Great. That had gone well.

  He knew she was right—if he trusted himself, he shouldn’t be worried. He’d been brought in for a reason. He could get everything done.

  Which meant he shouldn’t be distracted by Abbi.

  He shouldn’t be anxious about Russ.

  And he sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking about how good she’d looked as soon as she stepped into the conference room, running her fingers through the blue in her hair, jeans hugging her curves just tightly enough to make him want to tear them off all over again.<
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  Chapter Seven

  Friday after work, Abbi strolled around the local farmers market, one eye on leafy greens, the other eye scanning the crowd. She’d managed to avoid both Russ and Tyler for the rest of the week, but the whole town flocked to the park on these warm summer nights. Russ wasn’t the kale salad type, but she had no idea what Tyler might be up to.

  Since, despite fucking him, cursing him, and clenching her thighs every night for a week trying to make herself not dream about him and his biceps—preferably flexed in the act of pushing her up against a wall—there was plenty about him she didn’t know. Like what he did with his weekends besides brood over whiskey while prowling for women in need.

  But so far she was in the clear, so she told her friends she was popping over to the fruit stand and scolded herself for being so paranoid. She was reaching into a mound of bright red cherries, not really paying attention, when she bumped someone’s hand.

  Strong knuckles, rope of muscle up his forearm, hard biceps disappearing under a T-shirt— Fuck.

  They both jumped back.

  “Sorry,” she started, heart thundering in her chest. “You should—”

  “Go ahead.” Tyler gestured to the cherries.

  “You were here first.”

  They stood there way too long, neither of them moving.

  “On second thought, maybe I’m more in a nectarine mood.” She moved to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm.

  “Meatheads, two o’clock.”

  Her eyes flicked over to where he was looking. Shit. Russ’s gang of buddies had just lined up under the awning for Daisy’s Pie Stand across the way. There was no chance they hadn’t been seen.

  She’d promised herself she was done with this game. But if she walked off now and spent the rest of the evening acting like she barely knew Dimples McFireman, word would get back to Russ in a heartbeat that they’d already crashed and burned, and he might start getting ideas.

  “Great,” she grumbled, even as she tried to rearrange her face into something resembling “happy” for their little audience.