All or Nothing at All
Page 72
Refusing to wait another second, he strode over until he stood beside her. Then got straight to the point. “Did you just ask my wife out on a date?”
Paul took a step back. “Sorry, Tris. Didn’t know she was married. Didn’t mean to step on any toes.”
Sydney shot him a warning look. She waved her ringless finger in the air to calm him, but he was like a bull seeing red. “No need to apologize, Paul.”
Tristan nodded, forcing a grin at the man. “Yeah, no worries. I’ll have to get her a ring on a string so she can wear it on the job site,” he said casually.
They laughed together. Sydney frowned and tried to ease away. He tucked his hand firmly under her elbow. She stiffened and shot him a look. Then deliberately lifted her arm in the air in one neat motion and sidestepped.
Oh, he was going to punish the little minx for this one.
“Well, congrats. You’re a real power team now. This work has been solid. Looking forward to working with you.”
“Thanks, appreciate it.”
The moment Paul disappeared, she whirled on him, her eyes shooting green flames.
“What was that about?” she hissed. “A bit territorial, don’t you think? I had it handled.”
He took a step toward her and leaned in. His breath rushed over her lips. “Oh, I see how you’re handling this, all right. Why aren’t you wearing your ring?”
She blinked. “I leave it off on the job. I forget to put it on.”
A flash of pure male temper hit him hard. “From now on, you will wear your ring every damn day. Understood?”
She jerked away from him, chin tilted, and spoke in a furious whisper. “Don’t threaten me. I’ll wear the ring when I want. And I don’t appreciate you bringing our marriage onto the job site. I’ve worked hard to get here on my own, and I don’t need you playing the game of whose dick is bigger on my time. It affects my relationship with my suppliers. Understood?”
“Maybe it’s time you treat our marriage with some respect instead of hiding me like a dirty little secret,” he growled back.
She jabbed his chest with her index finger. “Back off, buddy. Let’s keep the focus on work, shall we? Remember, this isn’t personal. Take a moment to cool off and then we’ll head home. We’re both exhausted and need some rest.”
She marched off without a glance back, leaving him in shock.
Had she just called him buddy? And told him to cool off?
His skin stretched tight over his muscles. He tried to breathe to force his blood to stop boiling and resume pumping normally. He’d made a big mistake. By giving them both space and refusing to force intimacy, he’d let her believe she was in charge. She didn’t wear her ring. She didn’t sleep with him in the same bed voluntarily. She didn’t have sex with him. And she practically waved off the fact she was married when asked out on a date.
This morning, their horseback riding expedition had reminded him of everything good they had together. There wasn’t another woman who made him laugh like Sydney. Her insistence on her horse being evil not only amused him but helped him appreciate her many layers. Remembering that camping trip reminded him of how important she’d always been to him. Trying to keep her at a distance had only emphasized his physical ache for her. A few conversations over dinner and at the site was not what was needed—for any of them. They needed to bond on a deeper level to make this the family Becca truly deserved.
The realization of what he needed to do washed over him, bringing back a sense of calm and purpose. It was time to make this a real marriage and show her who she truly belonged to.
It was time to finally claim his wife.
chapter twenty-one
He was starting to freak her out. Sydney tried not to study him under her lashes as he competently broke down the empty pizza box and stacked the salad plates in the dishwasher. Since Becca wasn’t home, they’d decided to get takeout. They’d eaten at the counter and talked solely about work. He seemed calm again, as if that strange blowup on the site had never occurred.
Except Sydney knew something had changed.
Each word he spoke was accompanied by a glint of determination in those whiskey eyes. He seemed to be studying her, like a predator would assess his prey before striking. The air hung heavily with tension, but she couldn’t figure out what seethed beneath the surface.
Was it the ring?
The moment he’d slipped the three-karat diamond on her finger, she’d felt weighted down. Knowing the marriage was fake, it hurt to wear it, so she became used to leaving the ring behind in the velvet box. Working the site was a perfect excuse. He’d never noticed before. Was it because Paul had tried to ask her out?
The idea of Tristan being jealous thrilled her, but she doubted that was it. Probably more like a claiming territory sort of thing. Her mind spun with possibilities. She couldn’t keep dealing with the push/pull of this relationship much longer.
“Refill?” he asked, pointing to the bottle of expensive French wine he loved.
“Yes. Nothing like a great vintage with pizza,” she said. He poured her another glass. The rich aromas of blackberry and smoke rose to her nostrils. “It’s been a long day.”
“Becca loved the horseback riding. I’m glad you suggested we all go together.”
“Me too. But next time I want a horse that’s not named Bam Bam and doesn’t secretly want to try to kill me.”
“Why aren’t you wearing your ring, Sydney?”
She stiffened. Uh-oh. She should’ve known he’d get stuck on this issue. She kept her voice cool. “Does it really matter? I’m sorry if you took it personally, but it doesn’t make sense when I’m working at the site.”
He nodded and sipped his wine. Contemplated her words. “You didn’t wear it yesterday, either, when you were strictly at the office. Or at poker night. Where is it?”
She practically gnashed her teeth together in frustration. Damn him for pushing. “In the box. Where it’s safe.”
“I wear mine every day.” He lifted his hand. The ring flashed in the light—a dazzling gold with intricate carved ridges. Her heart dropped at the symbol of love and devotion for a couple who committed without doubt. Not like them. Not like a shotgun marriage performed seven years later because of a child. She buried the pain and concentrated on anger. It was so much simpler.
Paul took a step back. “Sorry, Tris. Didn’t know she was married. Didn’t mean to step on any toes.”
Sydney shot him a warning look. She waved her ringless finger in the air to calm him, but he was like a bull seeing red. “No need to apologize, Paul.”
Tristan nodded, forcing a grin at the man. “Yeah, no worries. I’ll have to get her a ring on a string so she can wear it on the job site,” he said casually.
They laughed together. Sydney frowned and tried to ease away. He tucked his hand firmly under her elbow. She stiffened and shot him a look. Then deliberately lifted her arm in the air in one neat motion and sidestepped.
Oh, he was going to punish the little minx for this one.
“Well, congrats. You’re a real power team now. This work has been solid. Looking forward to working with you.”
“Thanks, appreciate it.”
The moment Paul disappeared, she whirled on him, her eyes shooting green flames.
“What was that about?” she hissed. “A bit territorial, don’t you think? I had it handled.”
He took a step toward her and leaned in. His breath rushed over her lips. “Oh, I see how you’re handling this, all right. Why aren’t you wearing your ring?”
She blinked. “I leave it off on the job. I forget to put it on.”
A flash of pure male temper hit him hard. “From now on, you will wear your ring every damn day. Understood?”
She jerked away from him, chin tilted, and spoke in a furious whisper. “Don’t threaten me. I’ll wear the ring when I want. And I don’t appreciate you bringing our marriage onto the job site. I’ve worked hard to get here on my own, and I don’t need you playing the game of whose dick is bigger on my time. It affects my relationship with my suppliers. Understood?”
“Maybe it’s time you treat our marriage with some respect instead of hiding me like a dirty little secret,” he growled back.
She jabbed his chest with her index finger. “Back off, buddy. Let’s keep the focus on work, shall we? Remember, this isn’t personal. Take a moment to cool off and then we’ll head home. We’re both exhausted and need some rest.”
She marched off without a glance back, leaving him in shock.
Had she just called him buddy? And told him to cool off?
His skin stretched tight over his muscles. He tried to breathe to force his blood to stop boiling and resume pumping normally. He’d made a big mistake. By giving them both space and refusing to force intimacy, he’d let her believe she was in charge. She didn’t wear her ring. She didn’t sleep with him in the same bed voluntarily. She didn’t have sex with him. And she practically waved off the fact she was married when asked out on a date.
This morning, their horseback riding expedition had reminded him of everything good they had together. There wasn’t another woman who made him laugh like Sydney. Her insistence on her horse being evil not only amused him but helped him appreciate her many layers. Remembering that camping trip reminded him of how important she’d always been to him. Trying to keep her at a distance had only emphasized his physical ache for her. A few conversations over dinner and at the site was not what was needed—for any of them. They needed to bond on a deeper level to make this the family Becca truly deserved.
The realization of what he needed to do washed over him, bringing back a sense of calm and purpose. It was time to make this a real marriage and show her who she truly belonged to.
It was time to finally claim his wife.
chapter twenty-one
He was starting to freak her out. Sydney tried not to study him under her lashes as he competently broke down the empty pizza box and stacked the salad plates in the dishwasher. Since Becca wasn’t home, they’d decided to get takeout. They’d eaten at the counter and talked solely about work. He seemed calm again, as if that strange blowup on the site had never occurred.
Except Sydney knew something had changed.
Each word he spoke was accompanied by a glint of determination in those whiskey eyes. He seemed to be studying her, like a predator would assess his prey before striking. The air hung heavily with tension, but she couldn’t figure out what seethed beneath the surface.
Was it the ring?
The moment he’d slipped the three-karat diamond on her finger, she’d felt weighted down. Knowing the marriage was fake, it hurt to wear it, so she became used to leaving the ring behind in the velvet box. Working the site was a perfect excuse. He’d never noticed before. Was it because Paul had tried to ask her out?
The idea of Tristan being jealous thrilled her, but she doubted that was it. Probably more like a claiming territory sort of thing. Her mind spun with possibilities. She couldn’t keep dealing with the push/pull of this relationship much longer.
“Refill?” he asked, pointing to the bottle of expensive French wine he loved.
“Yes. Nothing like a great vintage with pizza,” she said. He poured her another glass. The rich aromas of blackberry and smoke rose to her nostrils. “It’s been a long day.”
“Becca loved the horseback riding. I’m glad you suggested we all go together.”
“Me too. But next time I want a horse that’s not named Bam Bam and doesn’t secretly want to try to kill me.”
“Why aren’t you wearing your ring, Sydney?”
She stiffened. Uh-oh. She should’ve known he’d get stuck on this issue. She kept her voice cool. “Does it really matter? I’m sorry if you took it personally, but it doesn’t make sense when I’m working at the site.”
He nodded and sipped his wine. Contemplated her words. “You didn’t wear it yesterday, either, when you were strictly at the office. Or at poker night. Where is it?”
She practically gnashed her teeth together in frustration. Damn him for pushing. “In the box. Where it’s safe.”
“I wear mine every day.” He lifted his hand. The ring flashed in the light—a dazzling gold with intricate carved ridges. Her heart dropped at the symbol of love and devotion for a couple who committed without doubt. Not like them. Not like a shotgun marriage performed seven years later because of a child. She buried the pain and concentrated on anger. It was so much simpler.
