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"I'm trying to take you somewhere safe. I'm the foreman on this project, and I'm not going to stop my guys from working because you're having a nervous breakdown."
"A nervous breakdown?" she spluttered, and he glanced back at her. She was pushing the hardhat tighter onto her head as they passed the bricklayers. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.
"Exactly," he said then pulled her harder still, only half worried that she might trip over her dress. He should slow down, though, if only to give himself time to think his next step.
If Quinn said she needed space, then he knew her well enough to understand that she meant it.
But he also knew Zoe well enough to understand that that wouldn't be an option, not while she was on the hunt. Zoe Andrews was the kind of girl who didn't just accomplish things. She attacked them. Watching her was like witnessing a cheetah in the safari, hunting down accomplishments and accolades until she was the leader of the pack. And when it came to Quinn? Well, that was when her real predatory instincts came out.
He took a deep breath through his nose, thinking hard. If he agreed to this easily, Zoe would know he was up to something. But if he put up a fight and gave in…? Well, maybe he'd be able to sabotage her efforts and give Quinn the time she needed.
There was no doubt it would be a sacrifice—of time, money, and sheer energy—but if anyone deserved that, it was Quinn.
They finally crossed the threshold of the work site, and he released her.
She rubbed the place where he'd gripped her and glowered up at him. "Was that really necessary?" she huffed.
"You obviously don't respond to clear instructions." He pointed to the signs posted on the fence, and she snorted.
"Look, I don't have time for this. Every minute with you is another minute Quinn is getting farther away. Now, are you going to help me or what?"
"No," he said.
"I'm sorry, I don’t think I spoke correctly. I meant to say, 'Get in my car. You're going to help me.’"
Ian sucked in his cheeks. "What's in it for me?"
"Your best friend's happiness," Zoe shot back.
"I don't think so."
He didn't think it was possible, but she somehow managed to narrow her eyes even more.
"Fine, what do you want?"
"We're driving my truck."
"My car is sensible, though. Better gas mileage. All the supplies are in there—"
"If you want my help, it's going to be on my terms."
She tilted her head to the side, and the hard hat fell to the ground. "Is that so?"
"It is. Now, once I help you with this, you are going to get off my back permanently, understood?"
"I don't—"
"You're going to stop bad-mouthing me to your sister," he cut in.
"I—" she tried again.
"Don't pretend, Zoe. I know you."
Her mouth became a thin line. "Right. Fine."
"Okay, then it seems we've struck a deal." He made for her car and opened the back seat. Hoisting her duffel onto his shoulder, he gestured to his truck and said, "After you."
"There's food in the trunk."
