Page 59 of Trust Fund Baby

I bristled. “I’m aware, thanks.”

“I’m sure you are.” His tone wasn’t condescending, but it had the older-brother weight to it—the kind that made me want to either hug him or throw one of his chisels at his head. “I just don’t want to see you rebuilding from scratch again.”

Brushing off my jeans, I stood up, even though there wasn’t much sawdust on them. The sunlight spilling in through the half-open door seemed sharper now, cutting against the cooler shadows of the workshop.

“Noted,” I said, my voice tighter than I meant it to be.

This was why I hadn’t wanted to discuss this with him. I could practically feel his gaze on the back of my neck, dissecting my posture, my every movement. It was the careful assessment of a craftsman scrutinizing a piece of work. And based on the attitude I knew I was giving him, that was exactly how I was starting to behave. I needed to get out of this workshop, away from his well-meaning concern, before I got even snappier, or revealed more than I intended.

Or maybe I could stick around if I changed the topic.

I turned away from the workbench, pretending to study the array of tools neatly arranged on the wall. I was pretty sure they were hung in both alphabetical order and size, which was so perfectly Winn.

“So,” I said, forcing lightness into my voice, “what’s your assistant’s name again?”

Winn glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Renee. Renee Willman.”

I nodded, folding my arms against my chest. “Renee, huh? Does she keep you in line?”

He grinned, the tension in his jaw visibly softening. “She’s the one who keeps me from losing my mind. Quiet, efficient, doesn’t take any crap.”

“Sounds like the perfect assistant.” I leaned against the wall, feeling a little lighter than before now that the topic of conversation had drifted from me and my situation with Sebastian.

“Yeah, well, don’t get any ideas. We’re strictly business. Nothing funny about it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Sure, sure. That’s what they all say.”

He gave me a pointed look. “You’re impossible.”

The easy banter made me smile, lightening the weight I felt pressing down on my shoulders. “Maybe. But it’s good to have someone like Renee. People like her don’t come around often.”

Winn looked down at his tools and smiled. “Yeah. She’s good people.”

That was huge coming from Winn. He rarely gave out compliments.

“That’s all you’re going to say?” I pressed, wanting to see how much he’d tell me.

“Yes.”

“That’s weirdly secretive.”

“It’s called professional boundaries.”

I tilted my head, studying him. “Mmhmm. And do those boundaries include buying her coffee every morning?”

He glanced up finally, his expression unreadable. “What makes you think I do that?”

“Because every time you’ve video-called me in the morning, you’re always picking up two coffees. And I doubt they’re both for you. You’re highly strung enough as it is.”

He stopped working. “It’s called being considerate. Maybe you should try it by not being so nosy.”

“I could, but where’s the fun in that?” I grinned, leaning back on the stool. “So, is she the reason you’ve been staying late, or is it because you actually like the work?”

Winn set down his tools, dusting his hands as if the conversation itself was something he also wanted to put down and walk away from. “Just because you ask something slightly differently, doesn’t mean you’re going to get a different answer.”

“You’re lame,” I sighed, but smiled when I saw the corner of his mouth tug up just slightly.

“If you’re that bored, go bother Mom.”