“That’s it,” Charlotte said, stepping back to survey the completed order. “Looks good. Really good.”
“It does.” I started cleaning up my workspace, putting tools away with meticulous care. Anything to keep my hands busy. Anything to keep from reaching for her.
“I can close up,” I offered. “It’s been a long day. You look tired.”
She turned to me, wariness flickering in her eyes. Like she wasn’t sure if the offer was genuine or just another excuse to avoid her. “I am,” she admitted finally.
“What about your brother?”
She smiled at my question. “After his career with the NFL was over, he did come back to the mill. He does the contracts now. Sales meetings with bigger clients. But now, he’s a little distracted. He married my best friend, Evie, last year.”
There was no bitterness in her voice, just love for her brother. But I knew she carried too much. Always had, probably. And no one seemed to notice. I noticed. I noticed everything about her. The way she tried to hide her exhaustion. The way she took on more than she should. The way she gave and gave and never asked for anything in return. And I wanted to give her something. I wanted to take care of her, to ease that burden, to make her feel good instead of tired and stressed.
“Go home,” I said. “Get some rest. We’ve got an early morning.”
She hesitated, studying me. Her green eyes searching my face like she was trying to read something there. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ve got it.”
“Okay.” She grabbed her coat, and for a moment I thought she might say something else. But she just nodded. “Thanks for staying late. And for... everything.”
“Just doing my job.”
“Right. Your job.” Something flickered in her expression—hurt, maybe, or frustration—but it was gone before I could identify it. “See you in the morning, Crew.”
“In the morning,” I confirmed.
She left, and I finished cleaning up the workspace, double-checking that everything was secure for the night. Then I stood there for a moment in the empty sawmill, surrounded by the smell of sawdust and the ghost of her scent. My cock still half-hard, my body still aching.
Tomorrow. Four hours alone in a truck with Charlotte. Four hours of her scent filling the cab, her body inches away from mine, her voice and her laugh and her presence surrounding me with nowhere to escape.
Tomorrow was just another day, I told myself. Just a delivery. Just a job.
And I had to hold on to my control no matter what.
Even if that control was already fraying at the edges. Even if it took everything I had not to go after her right now. Not to chase her down and apologize for being a coward. Not to finally admit that I wanted her—wanted her so badly it was tearing me apart.
I locked up the sawmill and headed to my truck, my jaw clenched with determination.
Tomorrow. I’d get through tomorrow. And then the day after that. And the day after that.
Until this job was done and I could leave before I did something stupid.
Like admit that I might have already fallen for a woman who smelled like pine trees and Christmas.
CHAPTER SIX
Charlotte
The truck cab felt smaller than it should have.
Maybe it was because Crew took up so much space—not just physically, though God knew he was big enough. No, it was his very presence.
The Henderson order was secured in the truck bed, wrapped and protected. The morning was cold but clear, the roads dry. Everything was going according to plan.
Except for the fact that I could barely breathe with Crew this close.
“Thanks again,” I said, needing to break the silence. “For staying late last night. We wouldn’t have finished without your help.”
