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“Let me know how I can help.”
“Actually, I do need one more favor.” Wes hated asking his friend for special treatment. This was a business deal, and he always treated them as such. But regardless of whom he was working with, he had to act in his mother’s best interest. As she’d always done for him. “I need to miss our next meeting. I’m returning to London to set the wheels in motion. Unless some emergency happens with my mother, I don’t anticipate missing another.”
“I understand. Of course. We’ll get you the meeting notes and bring you up to speed. Communicate via email until you return.”
Wes breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Does that mean you’re willing to overlook my meddling in your love life?” The smile returned to Liam’s face, easing the tension they were both feeling.
Wes laughed and shook his head. “You know, after that first meeting, I’d planned to turn down the project. Bree was mad as hell about me leaving her hanging. I didn’t think it was possible for us to work together.”
Lines spanned Liam’s forehead as he parked the cart. “And now?”
Wes stepped out of the cart and grabbed his putter. He shrugged. “Now I need to make this work. Seems she does, too. We’ve called a truce. She apologized for how she reacted after the meeting. I apologized for being an ass back then. I even invited her over for dinner last night.”
Liam hopped out of the cart, grabbed his putter and followed his friend onto the green. A huge grin spread across his face. “And after dinner?”
“I grilled steaks. We chatted. Everything was going well until…” Wes rubbed his neck and sighed.
“Until?” Liam raised an eyebrow.
“I wanted Bree to understand why things didn’t work out between us. That it was because of me. Not because of anything she did or didn’t do.”
“Wait, you gave her the bloody it’s-not-you-it’s-me speech?” Liam scrubbed his hand down his face and shook his head. “Aww, bloody hell. What were you thinking?”
“She looked so hurt about what happened between us. I couldn’t stand seeing that wounded look on her face. I had to do something to fix things between us.”
“And did it?”
Wes blew out a breath, exasperated with himself. “She bolted out of the door like her hair was on fire and I was holding a can of gasoline.”
Liam rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath. “Okay, so dinner didn’t go so well. Next time…”
“There isn’t going to be a next time.” Wes turned to face his friend, needing him to understand how serious he was about this. “Bree and I came to an understanding. We both need this project, and we want it to be the absolute best it can be. But there isn’t going to be a romance, maybe not even a friendship. Just a good, productive working relationship. We’re both okay with that. I need you to be, too.” Wes pointed a finger at his friend.
Liam snapped his mouth closed and lowered his gaze. He grunted, shoving one hand into his pocket. He gripped his club and assumed his stance. “If that’s what you want, fine. I won’t interfere.”
Liam’s agreement was hardly convincing, but he would respect his wishes. He was sure of it. Liam struck the ball and they watched it roll, landing within a few feet of the seventh hole.
It was his turn.
Wes stood over the ball, lining up his shot. He inhaled deeply. Focus, man. Get the ball in the cup. Simple as that. He released his breath, drew back the club and smacked the ball, hitting it long.
Too long.
He bit back a curse and climbed back into the cart. If he could keep his foot out of his mouth and his golf ball on the green, maybe he would survive this project.
CHAPTER 6
It’d been three weeks since the disastrous dinner with Wesley. She hadn’t seen him since. There had only been one meeting during the past few weeks, but Wes had skipped it. Probably because of her reaction to his confession that night.
The time wasn’t right because, for me, it never is. Not for anything serious.
God, she felt like an idiot. She hadn’t accepted his dinner invitation with the hopes of starting something between them. Still, those hopes had lingered in the back of her mind. Despite her desperate attempts to stamp them out.
