Page 29 of Craving Consequences
I follow him past the truck where the crew still loads supplies.
“Well, hey there, Everly. You here to supervise or just bless us with your beautiful smile?” Tommy teases, swiping a forearm across the sweat over his brow.
“You sure are a tall glass of water this morning,” Syed adds, grinning broadly. “That’s a really nice dress.”
It’s all for fun. Most of them are happily married and for those who aren’t, the flirting is harmless. They all know I’m in a relationship ... with the boss’s kid. It doesn’t bother me, but Ibarely get the chance to respond when Lachlan’s voice cuts through the noise, sharp and unmistakably pissed.
“Back to work.” He doesn’t even look at them, barely pauses as he stalks past, muscles tight as he adds just loud enough to carry, “Next person who so much as looks at Everly will spend the next month loading and unloading the trucks alone.”
Their heads can’t turn away fast enough. I think I hear their necks crack as every person rushes away from me like I might turn them into stone. I feel heat crawl up my neck as I follow Lachlan.
He stops at the tailgate and drops it with a clang. The folder is slapped down on top.
“That wasn’t really necessary,” I tell him softly. “They were just being friendly.”
Eyes the warm brown of whiskey roll to me, pin me from their corners, dark with warning that has me swallowing audibly.
“They can be friendly with someone else. Not you.”
My heart kicks in my chest and I have to tell the idiot muscle he’s only saying that because I’m his son’s girlfriend, still ... I don’t miss the way his attention slips to my mouth before he turns his whole head away, leaving my lips tingling.
The muscles in his arms flex as he scribbles his signature across the required lines. My eyes trace the veins along his forearms, the smudges of dust at his temple, the way his hair curls slightly at the ends when they’re damp with sweat.
I shouldn’t be studying him so closely, not when there are so many eyes to catch me, but I can’t move away. We’re standing too close. Or I am.
“Want to come over tonight?” he suddenly asks without looking up.
“Come over?” I mumble stupidly.
The pen stills in his hand and he lifts his head to meet my gaze. “I’m having a small BBQ. Van’ll be there. Nothing fancy. Burgers mainly.” His voice is low. “You can bring Lauren, if you like.”
The words scratch coming up my dry throat. “Oh, we were going to meet at Mama May’s, but I’ll ask.” I lick my lips nervously. “Thank you.”
He scribbles his name on the last page and pauses. “That it?”
I lean in and flip through the pages, checking each line carefully.
Finding it all in order, I smile and lift my gaze. “Looks like you got them all.”
He’s too close. Too focused. His eyes are hot pools staring into my face. Ensnaring me in their barely restrained longing.
The sharp splinters of sun slant behind him, catching the edges of his jaw, the faint scruff darkening his throat. I feel theweight of his gaze, the way it lingers on my mouth before lifting to my eyes.
“Are you going back to work from here?”
I nod weakly. “Yes.”
“Carefully.”
It’s not a question. Not a request. He’s telling me. Leaving no room for disobedience when he’s carving the warning into my soul.
“Yes, sir,” I rasp lamely, and melt a little when the corner of his mouth lifts in a tiny grin.
“Good girl.” He extends the folder to me. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Heart hammering, I nod and clutch the papers tighter to muffle the chaos in my chest.
He starts to move away from me but pauses. I watch him struggle with whatever thought he’s trying to process before he glances at me.
