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Owen arches a puzzled brow, but before I can say anything, his attention diverts to his buzzing cell. A frown etches across his brows. "The Schnures just circled Golden Meadows on the way to the party. They said that they saw a set of slow-moving headlights going through the development."
Cursing under his breath, Owen shoves his phone back in his pocket. "It’s probably nothing, but Mack, would it be too early to ask you to do a security check?"
Wait. Drake do a security check of Golden Meadows? He cannot be the guy Owen’s interviewing for the position.
Drake nods. "Sure. I was just heading out, anyway. I'll stop by your site and do a sweep on the way back to my motel."
Oh, hell no! This is not going to work for me.
Owen nods gratefully, and my heart starts to pound erratically. It’s obvious that he already likes Drake, which means he’ll pay whatever it takes to get him on board. "I knew you’d be the man for the job. Thanks, Mack."
This is not good!
"It’s not a problem. If you give me directions or an address I can punch into my GPS, I’ll get right on it."
"I’ll show him!"
Both men’s heads snap in my direction. "You will?" they say in unison. Owen's smile widens, and Drake’s brow arches like a question mark.
I rub my hands together. "Of course, don’t be silly. Mr. Brocker, you have a party to host, especially since Samantha is at home with the twins."
Owen puts one hand on my shoulder and another on Drake’s. "I love it, you two are already working as a team. It feels like this pairing was meant to be."
Drake chuckles, and I bite the undersides of my lips. This is an absolute nightmare.
"I’ll leave you two to it then." Owen extends another hand to Drake. "Thank you again, Mack, for making the drive up from DC. I’ll be watching for your text tonight and will be hopeful for positive news tomorrow from you and your men."
They pump hands, but I can read the hesitancy in Drake’s eyes, and for the first time, I feel a flutter of hope that I can steer this shipwreck back on course. I just need to convince Drake that there’s no way the two of us can work at the same place and that he’s much better off in DC.
"Brooke."
"Mr. Brocker?”
"My Samantha said that you’d put your heart and soul into this job, and she was right. Thank you for everything. Hopefully, you had enough time to make some contacts tonight."
I flash a reassuring smile. "I did. I’ve got tours booked daily for over two weeks. Thank you."
Owen folds his arms across his chest and grins. "Good. That’s what I like to hear. Once Mack’s on the job, you won’t have to worry about any damn Wellers or other whack jobs on the site while you’re touring or at night when you finally move out to the manager’s cottage. All right, you two, thanks for running reconnaissance tonight."
I just smile and bob my head. I haven’t breathed one word about moving into the manager’s cottage in Golden Meadows to Aunt Trudy. If by some miracle I can convince her to move in with me, then I can put her house on the market. A huge influx of cash is the only thing that’s going to save us.
Owen disappears into the crowd, leaving Drake and me standing alone.
Drawing a centering breath, I glance up to find him studying me with a wickedly sexy smirk on his handsome face. He holds out my purse. Purposely taking it back using my right, non-ring finger hand, I flash him a grateful but tight smile. "Thank you."
"No problem, honeybee. It’s nice to see you—a shock for sure, but definitely nice."
My eyes snap back to his face, and our gazes collide. A bolt of emotion strikes me in the chest as butterflies tickle my belly. Clearing my throat, I glance away quickly and snuff out the ridiculous heady feeling that threatens to overtake me. I refuse to allow any male, for any reason, to ruffle my feathers or make me lose my composure. Nothing and no one can shake me—not slimy Kenny, and not even still hot-as-hell Drake.
"Stop it right there, Drake. My name isn’t honeybee, it’s Brooke."
He holds up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, Brooke, in all fairness then, in the professional world, I go by Mack."
It feels like a bop on the nose, a stinging rebuke, although it’s not. This is a good direction to go in, a professional, unemotional direction. I nod. "Mack, of course. That’s how Owen introduced you tonight, I guess it’s just a force of habit to call you Drake."
His eyes sparkle. "Yeah, it’s just a force of habit for me to call you honeybee. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but I’ll try my hardest."
Folding my arms across my chest, I shake my head. "Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. Because one of us won’t be here for very long."
