All or Nothing at All
Page 43

Heart racing, palms sweating, she felt the clipboard slide from her hands, and she bent over to suck in a deep breath. Just one minute to freak out and she’d pull herself together. No one would see.
A strong, warm hand pressed into her lower back. “Breathe,” he commanded in a silky, sexy masculine voice that caused goose bumps to break out over her skin.
“I’m fine, I just—”
“Don’t talk. Just breathe.”
His hand stroked her back firmly, soothing her as much as his confident tone that promised her everything would work out. She gulped in another breath, and slowly her muscles began to loosen again. Her lungs refilled in grateful bursts.
Finally she straightened up, avoiding his gaze. Ugh. He was probably kicking himself for letting her lead this project. Tristan never lost his calm. Why did she have to be so weak?
“Stop it, now.” His voice flicked like a whiplash. Startled, she swung her gaze to his, swallowed whole by the stinging cognac of his eyes, burning with heat. “Don’t ever psych yourself out again. Yes, it’s a lot of work. Yes, it’s going to be bad. Yes, we’ll get it done. Together.”
And just like that, Sydney ached to topple him to the ground, crawl over that gorgeous, muscled body, and do bad, bad things to him.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I freaked for a moment. I’m good.”
His features softened. “The first time I got a house to flip, I couldn’t eat for two days straight. I was sick to my stomach.”
She smiled. Lord, he was kind. It was even more devastating under his cool, professional surface because it was safely tucked away where most couldn’t see. But he’d always showered her with care, even in his frustrating, commanding manner. “Thanks.” She retrieved her clipboard, already feeling more in control.
“Good. It wasn’t bad for the first day. How serious is the mold problem? We going to need a French drainage system?”
“No, it wasn’t as bad as we expected. No regular leaks, so it looks like an isolated incident. We’ll begin the cleanup and install the new floor.”
“Good. Plumbing is solid, too. We can begin moving forward on the kitchen by end of week unless we uncover more issues.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, please tell me there won’t be any issues.”
He laughed, playfully tugging at her curls. He hadn’t touched her like that in years, and she tried desperately to ward off the sweetness of the memory. “Sweetheart, there are always issues. Remember the Reidy house? The electrical ended up being shit, and I ended up over budget.”
She shuddered at the thought. “That’s right. You had a bit of a tantrum that week.”
He glowered. “I don’t have tantrums,” he corrected. “Toddlers have tantrums. Men blow off steam.”
“Well, you rivaled Thomas the Tank Engine then,” she teased, trying to keep a straight face. “Throwing files around, bitching at Cal for not hiring the right electrician. Bitching at Dalton for breathing.”
“This business isn’t for the weak.” He cocked his head, frowning. “Did I bitch at you for something?”
“Yeah, I paid the bill for the electrician too fast. You wanted to negotiate for a discount.”
“That’s right. Why didn’t you wait?”
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and frowned. “Because you never asked me.”
He tried not to wince. “Oh, yeah. I don’t think we were communicating well at that time.”
“You think? If I didn’t read your mind and stay out of your way, you behaved badly.”
“I was working out some issues.”
She was tempted to gloss over his answer, but a few days ago he’d been buried deep inside of her, wresting raw pleasure from her body. They both deserved more honesty from each other. She couldn’t ever go back to the cold distance between them, even if they stopped at just one night of perfect sex. “Why now, Tristan?” she asked softly. “We barely spoke for two years when you got home. Now suddenly you’re focused on trying to forge a relationship again. It’s confusing. And it—”
“What?” He stepped closer and laid his hand on her cheek. The tender gesture tore down her barriers.
“It scares me.”
He let out a ragged breath and nodded. “I know. Me too. I needed that time to sort through my feelings about what had happened between us. I think we needed that time. I’m sorry I treated you like shit, Syd. I really am. I was confused about still wanting you and didn’t know what to do with those feelings.”
Her breath caught at his honesty. This was what she’d missed. The Tristan who told her the truth and never flinched. She couldn’t keep blaming him for the past. The only thing she could do was move forward and see if they had a shot at something beautiful, something they’d just missed so many years ago.
As long as she told him the truth.
She didn’t think she had a choice any longer.
“I accept your apology.” A smile touched her lips. “I never could stay mad at you for long.”
“True, but you always did make me pay first.”
Her brow lifted. “I made sure the punishment fit the crime.”
“Sure you don’t want me on my knees?”
The sexual tide surged and caught fire. Suddenly her body softened, ripening for his touch. The image of him on his knees before her, pulling down her jeans, giving her pleasure, made her sway slightly. His eyes darkened. “Ah, I see you do like that idea,” he murmured. “I’ll have to remedy my apology.”
Pink flushed her cheeks. “Stop.”
“You won’t say that to me later.”
He’d always been extremely sexual, and she’d always responded with ease. It was no different years later. The only thing that stopped her from stepping into his embrace and calling him on his dare was the presence of the trucks parked outside and the workers still tromping through the site. His gaze promised their discussion wasn’t over.
She was looking forward to continuing it.
“Tris! Syd! Where are you guys?”
They headed toward the familiar voice and greeted Brady and Charlie. Sydney noticed they were holding hands. The pairing had astonished her at first. Brady was ten years older, with a defined view of how women acted in a romantic relationship. His Latino heritage and his strict father had limited his acceptance of a woman daring to challenge him, teaching him to prefer demure, submissive, and conservative females to pursue romantically.