One Good Reason

“But—” There were so many objections crowding her throat she couldn’t decide which one to voice first. “But he’s not a cabinet-maker or a French polisher, is he?”

“He’s a builder, and he’s good. He’ll pull his weight.”

“So, is this a temporary thing? A couple of weeks? A month?” Gabby asked.

“It’s for as long as it needs to be.”

“What are you? Yoda? As long as it needs to be? What the hell does that mean?”

Tyler sighed. “Sometimes I forget what a pain in the ass you can be. Can’t you just do what you’re told for a change?”

It stung. Useless to pretend it didn’t. She was only looking out for him. Worrying about his business. And he thought she was a pain in the ass.

“Fine. I’ll add him on as a permanent employee.” She picked up a pen and poised it over her notepad, ready to take down his instructions verbatim, since that was clearly the kind of employee he wanted her to be. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“Gabby. Come on. Don’t go all cat’s-bum-mouthed on me. You know I was only joking.”

Nice to know he found her hurt feelings amusing.

“Way to smooth talk me, silver tongue.”

“I’m sorry I called you a pain in the ass.” He said it like a dutiful schoolboy reciting his times tables.

She raised her eyebrows.

“And the cat’s bum comment was completely uncalled for,” he added.

“No kidding. And good work with the sincerity there, too. It’s really convincing.”

Tyler grinned. “Are we friends again?”

Friends.

For three years, they had been a lot more than friends. He’d been her lover, had practically lived at her place. She’d built all kinds of white-picket dreams around him. Then she’d realized that he was never going to share himself with her in the way she needed, and she’d pulled the pin on their relationship. He’d been angry at first. Convinced that she was asking for something he didn’t have to give. But after a while they’d settled into a friendship and she’d come to work for him.

Then he’d fallen in love with Ally and given all of himself to her freely and openly without a second’s thought.

“Your minute’s up,” she said.

Tyler laughed. Despite the fact that she was still annoyed with him, she couldn’t stop her mouth from twitching in response to the rich sound.

He pointed a finger at her. “I saw that.”

“Stop pretending you’re charming, because you’re not. You can’t ask for my opinion and advice one minute and then tell me to pull my head in the next.”

Tyler must have picked up on the seriousness of her tone because his smile faded.

“I was only joking, Gab, okay?” He was sincere this time, his eyes very sober.

She nodded, feeling ridiculous for being so prickly. She blamed the stranger she’d found at her desk this morning—Tyler’s brother had thrown her off her pace and she was still trying to regain her equilibrium.

“I’ll get the paperwork sorted today. What do you want me to set up as far as payroll goes?”

The million-dollar question—exactly what was Tyler paying his underqualified, transient brother?

“I’ll take care of that.”

She frowned, but this time she didn’t say anything. Before she’d joined the business, Tyler had handled the administration himself, so he was more than capable of adding an employee to the payroll. Why he suddenly chose to do so now when she’d been taking care of it for years was a whole other issue.

“Right. Then I guess we’re sorted,” she said.

“Good stuff.” Tyler stood, lifting his coffee mug in a casual salute before heading out the door.

She focused on her work, pushing all the nagging voices in her head to one side. At the end of the day, the name on the sign was T.A. Furniture Design. He was the one taking the risk, therefore he got to make the decisions.

Meaning she was going to have to get used to having his brother around.

It was an unsettling thought. Which was stupid. She got along with all the guys; she’d always been the kind of woman who got on well with men. They ragged on each other, told jokes, had the occasional beer together after work. They were her mates. And despite their not-so-great start, there was no reason why she wouldn’t rub along fine with Jon, too.

No reason at all.

JON TURNED OFF THE ORBITAL sander and ran his hand over the tabletop. In the very early days of his apprenticeship he’d dabbled in furniture making, but he hadn’t had the patience for it then. Now, he felt the smoothness of the wood beneath his fingers and felt a definite sense of achievement and satisfaction.

He was about to switch the sander on again when someone touched his arm. He looked up to see his brother standing there.

Jon slid off his ear protectors. “What’s up?”

“It’s quitting time. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

He glanced around in surprise. He’d been so lost in his work that he hadn’t registered that the rest of the guys had gone home for the day.

“Right. Well, I’ve still got a way to go with this.” Jon indicated the tabletop.

“You can finish it tomorrow. We’re ahead of deadline on that job.”

“I told Dino I’d have it ready for him in the morning. I’m happy to lock up if you want to head home.”

“Gabby usually does that. She’s still working.”

“Is that safe?”

Tyler raised his eyebrows. “You worried she doesn’t know how to handle a lock and key?”

Jon ignored the joke. “What if someone was hanging around? She probably doesn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds.”

In fact, his brother’s office manager was so slight it had taken him longer than it should have this morning to figure out that the slim woman glaring at him was an adult, let alone Tyler’s right-hand woman. With her boyishly short hair and jeans and T-shirt, she’d looked more like a skinny teen than a woman who helped run a multimillion-dollar business.

“Don’t ever let Gabby hear you say that,” Tyler said. “She’ll tear you a new one.”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it? She’d be toast if someone tried to overpower her.”

Tyler groaned. “Definitely don’t say that to her.”

Jon gave his brother a look. “You’re serious?”

“Gabby prides herself on her independence. Hates it when people do things for her that she can do herself. If you’d met her mom, you’d understand. Really scary lady.”

Jon shrugged. “Fine. She can lock up, if that’s what floats her boat.”

Tyler pulled his car keys from his pocket. “Swing by the house on your way home if you change your mind. I’ve got some of that German beer you like and Ally’s cooking lasagna.”

Jon gave a noncommittal shrug. He knew Tyler was being hospitable, but the last thing Jon wanted was to sit on the sidelines of his brother’s life and play witness to his happiness. Not that he begrudged Tyler any of what he had—the business, his home, Ally. He simply didn’t need the reminder of all the things he’d messed up in his own life.

Plus it would make it a hell of a lot harder to stick to his self-imposed sobriety if he had to sit around and watch his brother knock back beers all night. And his abstinence would make Tyler curious.

Jon simply didn’t want to go there. Yes, he’d had a wake-up call about his excessive drinking, but that didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it or advertise it.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Tyler said.

“Sure.”

He didn’t go immediately, and Jon sensed there was something else on his mind. Jon reached for the sander, checking the tension on the clamps. After a long beat, he heard the metallic clink of his brother’s keys and when he glanced up Tyler was heading for the door.

Not for the first time, Jon wondered whether accepting his brother’s offer of a temporary job had been a good idea. He didn’t need the money—he’d sold out of his construction business and had a sizable chunk of change in his bank account—but he also didn’t need to be sitting around staring at the walls while he worked out what to do next. Taking up Tyler’s offer to work for him once they’d finished renovating the house had seemed like the best option—it was either that or continue the downward slide toward oblivion in the bottom of a bottle.

There was no denying that the notion held a certain appeal—the end of the struggle, all the crap cloaked in a warm, fuzzy haze of alcohol—but he could still hear his father’s voice in his head, telling him over and over how worthless he was and how he’d never amount to anything.

He flat out refused to let the bastard be right.

He started the sander again. The vibrations traveled up his arms as he moved along the grain. Slowly, the tension banding his shoulders relaxed and he lost himself in the simplicity of the task.

He had no idea how much time had passed when the sander suddenly fell silent. Instinct made him look over his shoulder. Gabby was standing beside the outlet, her handbag on her shoulder. He pulled off his ear protectors.

“Sorry. I tried shouting and you didn’t hear me.”

She didn’t sound sorry. Didn’t look it, either, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“If you’re ready to go, I already told Tyler I’m happy to lock up,” he said.

“But you don’t know the alarm code.”

Purely out of habit, his gaze dipped below her neck. She was small on top, one of those petite women with tiny breasts and narrow hips. She probably didn’t even need to wear a bra.

Basically the exact opposite of the kind of women he found attractive.

“I will if you tell me.”

She frowned. He wasn’t sure if it was because of what he’d said or if she’d caught him looking.

“What? You think I’m going to rip my own brother off?”

She stiffened. “It’s a complicated system.”

“I’ll take notes.”

She pushed her handbag strap higher on her shoulder. “All right. The keypad’s in the showroom.” She said it grudgingly. Reluctantly.

He followed her, aware of the tension radiating off her in waves. Man, she was one uptight chick. Tyler seemed to rate her highly, but personally Jon couldn’t see the appeal. Humorless, defensive, prickly—she was the very definition of hard work, and he didn’t do hard work when it came to women. Not that that would ever be an issue with Gabby—everything about her screamed not available, not interested, not ever.

She stopped in front of the alarm console beside the front door of the showroom.

“The code is Tyler’s birth year—not superoriginal, I know, but he insisted.”

Jon watched as she punched four figures into the alarm console and explained the system.

“Cool, got it,” he said.

“The lock is a little sticky. Sometimes you have to really force it.”

“Sure.”

“And we usually leave the showroom light on.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe I should leave you my number, in case you run into trouble.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he had it covered, but she was already rummaging in her bag. He studied the neat part in her straight hair.

“Big night on the cards?” he asked. Maybe if they got to know each other a little she’d loosen up.

She glanced at him. “Not really, just dinner with my girlfriend.”

He narrowed his eyes as the penny dropped. The no-frills clothes, the short hair, the lack of makeup, the whole not-available vibe—clearly, Ms. Wade batted for the other team. And based on the way she looked down her nose at him, she was one of those man-hating lesbians. The kind who thought the world would be a better place if men were cut out of the food chain altogether and replaced by lab technicians with turkey basters.

“Finally.” She pulled a dog-eared business card from the depths of her purse. “My number’s on the bottom. Call if you have issues with anything.”

He tucked the card into the front pocket of his jeans. “I’m pretty sure I won’t be needing it, but thanks anyway.”

The expression on her face told him she had her doubts, but she didn’t say anything. She moved toward the door and seemed surprised when he beat her there and held it open for her.

“Thanks,” she muttered, giving him a distinctly ungrateful look.

He remembered what Tyler had said about her not liking people doing things for her that she could do for herself and suppressed a smile. Probably it made him a bad person, but for some reason he liked the idea of yanking her chain a little.

“See you tomorrow,” she said, ducking past him into the warm night.

He waited until she’d reached her car and was safely inside. The moment he heard her engine start, he locked the door and returned to the workshop.

His footsteps echoed in the empty space. There was no one waiting for him at home—if you could call a serviced apartment home. He could work here until the wee hours if he wanted to, and no one would miss him or care.

That was the way he liked it. No strings, no obligations. Nothing hard or demanding or restricting.

Just him—and the dozen or so monkeys on his back, of course.

CHAPTER TWO

GUILT NAGGED AT GABBY ALL through dinner with her old school-friend Shona. Jon had tried to be friendly, and she’d blown him off. He’d asked about her evening, opened the door for her. Then he’d watched until she was safely in her car. Even though those kinds of old-fashioned courtesies made her want to grind her teeth, she could appreciate the good manners behind them.

He was trying to be nice. And she’d been nothing but prickly and short.

Brushing her teeth before bed, Gabby tried to work out why he made her so bristly.

Sure, they’d gotten off on a bum note with the whole him-being-in-her-office thing, but she wasn’t the sort of person to hold a grudge. And yes, she was worried that Tyler was taking on a staff member who was going to hold back the team rather than help them grow. But none of that was enough to explain the way she turned into Mother Superior every time she spoke to him.

She thought about the moment when he’d faced her after she’d switched off the sander. She’d met his eyes and seen … nothing in their gray depths.

She paused, her mouth full of minty foam.

Maybe that was what it was. Jon was a whole lot of man—a commanding, demanding physical presence by sheer dint of the fact that he took up so much damned room—but when she looked at him she got … nothing. No sense of how he was feeling or what he was thinking. No hint of his mood or attitude. Just a contained, polite calm.

So what? Big deal if the guy doesn’t go around advertising his emotions for all and sundry. He’s a guy. That’s generally what they do. If that’s your big beef with him, you need to get over it, princess.

Gabby spit, then rinsed her mouth. Tomorrow was a new day. There was no reason why she couldn’t start fresh with him. She’d take the time to chat with him, ask how he was settling in. She’d even insist on him using her computer again if he needed to check anything on the internet. Before long they’d be laughing and joking around the way she did with the other guys.

He was Tyler’s brother, after all. It was impossible for her not to like him.

GABBY’S GOOD INTENTIONS turned to dust the next day when Jon didn’t turn up until close to eleven o’clock. She was busy with her own work but she was very aware of his absence because she’d come in with the specific intention of starting over with him.

Initially, she thought he was simply running a little late, which was fine, since he’d stayed to finish the table last night. As the morning wore on, however, and he still didn’t appear, she began to wonder if he was going to make history as the shortest-lived employee the company had ever had.

Then, just shy of eleven, Jon sauntered in. She took one look at him and knew exactly why he was late. The heavy eyes, the paleness—he’d had a big night, to use his own terminology. Probably been out to all hours, drinking and God knows what else. Then he’d slept it off and rolled into work as though he owned the place and answered to no one.

Gabby watched from her office as he exchanged a word with Dino, who was the senior on the workshop floor and didn’t suffer fools gladly. She waited for him to let Jon know in no uncertain terms that the working day had started two and a half hours ago.

Dino said something. Jon replied. Dino laughed, the sound audible even over the whine of the table saw. She watched incredulously as he clapped Jon on the shoulder as though they’d been buddies for years. Dino was still chuckling as he crossed to the drill press.

As though he sensed her watching, Jon glanced at her, a big, no-holds-barred grin still on his face.

She blinked. He looked like a different man when he was smiling. Younger. A little dangerous.

Their eyes met and his smile sobered as he gave her a small acknowledging nod. Her own face felt frozen, but she forced herself to nod in reply. Then she swung in her chair and made a big deal out of being busy with her computer.

She told herself it was none of her business as she punched figures into the accounting software. If Dino was prepared to let the boss’s unreliable brother get away with murder, it was no skin off her nose.

At lunchtime she walked around the corner and grabbed a sandwich. As she returned, she could see Jon through the window of the showroom. He was talking to a woman. Gabby frowned, taking in his body language: the way he was slouching oh, so casually against the counter; the almost-there smile on his face as he listened to something the woman was saying; the way his gaze traveled over her body in a slow, appreciative scan.

If he were in a bar, Gabby wouldn’t hesitate for a second in assuming that he was hitting on the woman. But this was Tyler’s showroom, and the woman was a customer. Jon was probably simply being friendly.

Gabby pushed the door open, stepping into the air-conditioned cool of the showroom.

“The thing about good design is that it’s timeless. Ageless,” Jon said. “It only gets better.”

The woman was in her early forties, blonde and wearing a tight black dress. She flipped her hair over her shoulder as Jon gave her a loaded smile.

Gabby might not have had a date in a while, but she knew when a man was on the make—and he was definitely eyeing the blonde with carnal intent.

In his brother’s showroom. At—she checked her watch—one thirty-five on a Tuesday afternoon.

Nice. Really classy.

Putting on her best professional smile, Gabby joined their cosy tête-á-tête.

“Hi. Hope you don’t mind me interrupting. I’m Gabby.” She offered the other woman her hand.

The blonde looked a little startled—no doubt she’d been so busy eating Jon up with her eyes she hadn’t noticed Gabby approach.

“Hi. Fiona. Pleased to meet you.”

Gabby turned to him, her smile still firmly in place. “Thanks, Jon. I’ll take over from here.”

For a moment she saw a flash of something in his eyes—annoyance? Defiance?—then he straightened and gave Fiona a rueful shrug.

“Back to the grindstone.”

Fiona laughed and flipped her hair again. “I’ll keep in mind what you said.”

“You do that.”

Without looking at Gabby, he left the showroom.

“So, how can I help you …?” Gabby asked the other woman brightly.

Ten minutes later, Fiona was on her way with a handful of brochures and some preliminary pricing for the dining-room suite she was looking for. Gabby took a moment to gather her thoughts before heading to her office. Everything in her wanted to hunt Jon down and read him the riot act for behaving so unprofessionally. But he was Tyler’s brother, and it was Tyler’s business. If anyone was going to deal with Jon, it should be Tyler.

She entered the workshop, veering to the kitchen before hitting her office. She was rinsing a mug when she heard the heavy tread of someone entering. Her spine stiffened. Somehow she knew that it was Jon, but she refused to look to confirm it.

“She was into it, if that’s what you’re worried about,” a deep voice said.

She turned to face him. “Excuse me?”

“Fiona. The blonde.”

Gabby blinked, then shook her head. “Let me get this straight. It’s your second day on the job, you walk in nearly three hours late, then you try to pick up one of our customers. And none of it is your fault?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So you’re not making excuses for treating our showroom like a pick-up bar?”

“A pick-up bar? Are you serious? We were having a conversation.”

“When it comes to your brother’s company I’m usually pretty serious. I’m a little crazy like that, caring about him staying in business and whatnot.”

He made a rude noise. “Lady, you need to lighten up.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Listen, I know you’re all bent out of shape because I used your computer for a few seconds yesterday—”

“This isn’t about you using my stupid computer. What do you think I am, a child or something?”

His gaze dropped to her chest for a telling beat. Never had she regretted being an A-cup so much in her life.

“I don’t know. I can’t think of another reason why you’d nearly blow a gasket because I was having a friendly chat with another consenting adult on my lunch break.”

“She was a customer. She was looking for furniture, not a quickie in the parking lot.”

“Personally I prefer a nice big bed and plenty of time, but don’t let that get in the way of a good story.”

To her everlasting chagrin, Gabby could feel heat stealing into her cheeks. “Stop trying to make this about me. You’re the one who’s taking advantage of Tyler, taking his job offer and then arriving late on your second day. How do you think it looks to the other guys, the boss’s brother strolling in whenever he feels like it and—”

“I called Dino, told him I’d be in late and that I’d make up the time tonight.”

Gabby was thrown for a second. “Well, good. At least someone knew where you were.”

“What’s wrong? Worried about me?”

“Hardly.” She was fiercely hot now, her armpits prickling with self-conscious heat. It didn’t help that he looked as cool as could be, as though he could barely bother to raise a sweat over her.

“You know what? Forget I said anything. Why I even felt the urge to explain is beyond me.” He turned to go.

“Uh-uh. You don’t get off that easy.”

She raced around the table, barely making it to the doorway in time to block his exit. He stopped short of plowing into her and she caught a whiff of male skin and spicy deodorant before he took a step backward.

“I want a promise from you that you won’t talk to any of the customers again.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Sweetheart, you have got to be the most uptight chick I have ever met in my life.”

“My name is Gabby, thanks. And I want your word that you’ll stay out of the showroom. If Dino’s prepared to put up with you stuffing him around in the workshop that’s his business. But Tyler and I handle sales and I won’t have you screwing with our clients. Literally or figuratively.”

Something fiery and dangerous flashed in his dark gray eyes. He grabbed her by the upper arms, forcibly picking her up and moving her to one side as though she were a piece of furniture. Then he was gone, and she was left gaping at his audacity.

“How dare you!” she said to the empty kitchen.

Good lord, she sounded like a Victorian maiden. An hysterical, outraged Victorian maiden on the verge of the vapors. Any second now she’d be reaching for her smelling salts or calling for her maid to burn some feathers.

How on earth had he managed to turn the tables on her so effectively? He’d been utterly in the wrong, yet somehow she was left feeling like some uptight morals campaigner. He was the one who’d taken advantage of Tyler’s generosity, not her. Jon was the one who should be feeling stupid and wrong and out of sorts.