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“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Installing more cameras,” he says without looking at me. “These ones have sensors that will sense any movement and move in regards to that. If anything bigger than an animal approaches your door, there’s an alarm that’s going to go off in ten seconds unless you put in the code.” He glances at me then. “No blind spots.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what answer I was expecting but it wasn’t that one.
“And that’s not including the sensors on the doors themselves," he continues. "They resist any type of force, so the lock can't be jimmied or jammed open. They're metallic doors, and nothing else can penetrate the doors unless you put in the keycode. They're able to withstand military-grade grenades, for example."
“Are you sure this is all necessary?” I say because the more he talks, the more the apprehension grows in my chest.
He gives me a look like I just said something ridiculous. “Of course. Did you forget that you have a fucking psycho stalking you?”
"No, but..." When he said he would protect me, I didn’t expect all of this. I thought maybe, put a few more CCTV cameras in, but this is a lot. “Maybe it's just some kid who wanted to scare me. I mean, there was no name on it and they haven’t said anything else, so maybe it was just a prank. Or maybe they got the wrong person.”
“I’m not taking a chance on a fucking maybe, Red,” he says. “Especially when it comes to you.”
I'm glad he glanced back to the workers at that exact moment because heat fills my face and I feel a flutter in my heart.
Damn it, why does he have to go and say stuff like that?
I have been trying to fight my feelings for him, but each time I think I'm getting somewhere, he weakens my resolve once more by being unexpectedly sweet. I mean, I'm doing all the right things, avoiding him, keeping our conversations professional, keeping my distance...
But every time I see him, it's like my heart starts singing and my body starts aching for something I can't have.
And then I have to remind myself again who he is and the mess he’s in with his girlfriend slash ex-girlfriend. I tell myself that he’s probably telling her all the same things. I nurse my annoyance at him.
“Do you really have to call me that?” I ask.
He turns back to me. “Call you what?”
“Red,” I say. “I know I’m a redhead but there’s no need to point it out.”
“Do you have any problem being called Red?”
“Yes," I say. The kids in high school used to tease me about two things—my weight and my hair color. I was called the big jolly red giant way too many times for me to ever find any joy in that nickname, or even to react indifferently to it.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Oliver says as his voice suddenly drops into a lower register. His eyes grow darker too as he leans in and I don’t see his hand move but he’s picking up a strand of my hair, watching the curl roll off his finger. “Because I really like calling you Red. Red.”
This time, my heart pounds in overtime.
I want to protest, but the way he says it does not remind me of the kids in high school at all. He says it in a gravelly voice like…well, like it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen or something. Which is ridiculous, because Jane’s hair is a lot silkier and more beautiful than mine.
Yes, Jane. His alleged girlfriend that he’s probably cheating on.
Still, it’s hard to pull away. Oliver seems to have only two modes, asshole or seductive asshole, and somehow the latter is worse to deal with than the first.
I somehow find the strength to turn away from the look in his eyes, ignoring the thrum of desire it inspires.
I clear my throat instead. “Whatever. You can say whatever you want. It’s not like I can stop you anyway.”
He frowns at me for a second but then is distracted by one of the workers.
“Boss, do we need to finish the entire house today?”
“Yes,” he yells back. “And make sure there are no blind spots.”
“Wait, that’s not necessary,” I say because I’m truly feeling sorry for the man with the crestfallen look on his face. “I’m sure they can continue tomorrow.”
“And if there’s a break-in today?” he says. “We’ve put it off for too long.”
