When he didn’t respond, I decided I wouldn’t even bother engaging with him. I deserved someone’s full attention, not a half-assed comment here and there without even a look in my direction.
Scanning for my bags, I noticed the furniture was new, the countertops were granite, and the AC was cooling the place even though it was autumn and we could have opened the windows. “Looks like we’re actually going to be glamping.”
“Yes, the accommodations are fine.”
“Where did you put my bags?”
“Next to our bed,” he said, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Like we did this all the time. Like he hadn’t made a colossal mistake.
“Our bed?” I whispered. “You meanmybed?”
He closed his laptop and met my eyes for the first time since I’d walked into the cabin. “There’s one room and one bed in this cabin, Izzy. If you like, you can have the couch, but I figured you’d want a good night’s sleep and it’s a king size.”
“Why would they put me in a cabin with you without two beds?”
“I told you. There was a mistake in the itinerary.”
“Well, you can’t sleep in a bed with me!” Why did I screech that? I didn’t stop there either. I stomped down the hardwood hallway to peer into the one bedroom and growled toward the heavens. The bed appeared plush, soft pastels draped over fluffy pillows with a quilt that looked as smooth as butter. The headboard had solid pine posts stained dark to match the outside feel of the wilderness. “This has to be reason enough for me to call my therapist, text my family, and maybe even fall off the wagon.”
“If you do that, it’s not going to be on my watch,” he murmured from right behind me, and I jumped, not realizing he’d followed me in.
“Oh my God. Personal space, Cade.” I stepped back.
He tilted his head, assessing me like a foreign object. “You do realize my dick was so far up your pussy, I almost felt your heartbeat, right, dollface?”
“That was a one and done thing.” I held up a finger.
“It was actually two times—three if you count the elevator, though.” A corner of his mouth lifted as he took a step back to lean against the doorframe of the room. “I don’t think personal space is needed quite as much when I know how you taste.”
I grabbed my bags. “I’m staying with Rodney. Or Lucas.”
He chuckled and walked up to me to snatch them away. “You’re not.” He pried them from my hands. “You’re going to work with me, and we’re going to get shit done because you put work first. Right, Ms. Hardy?”
Someone questioning my work ethic always got me. I’d swear he knew what he was doing, and it made me want to punch him. “I’m only working on JUNIPER, and then I won’t be here.”
“You scared to spend time alone with me?”
“I’d rather spend time with people who believe in my work ethic, Mr. Armanelli.”
He scratched his chin, and before he got a chance to tell me what a shitty worker he thought I was again, I grabbed my laptop from my bag and breezed past him to the living room to go work.
Without his help, I gained access to our private Wi-Fi and dove in. Minutes or hours later, Cade sat down next to me. I felt his heat, even though he didn’t say a word while he looked over my shoulder.
“It’s been a couple hours, dollface. Why don’t you take a nap or eat? You’ve got to be tired from traveling?”
“I’m proving my work ethic, Cade,” I ground out.
“You can’t work on these sorts of things when you’re tired. You’re missing some of the bigger issues.” He pointed out one right in front of my face, and I slammed my laptop shut.
“Did you want me in this cabin to micromanage me?” It made sense now. He didn’t want to work with me, he wanted to make sure I didn’t mess anything up. He thought I wasn’t competent enough to handle JUNIPER. And my gut twisted at his lack of confidence in me. “If you feel the need to do that, maybe it’s better you get someone else in here to work with you.”
“I don’t work well with others.” He shrugged.
“I don’t work well with you!” I screamed. “You have no respect for me, and you don’t believe I can do this. And I need—” I stopped abruptly.
To need someone’s support, to ask for it, to want their approval, was never a good thing. Especially for someone like me. I could be let down. I knew that. I knew that I didn’t want anyone but my family that close. I couldn’t afford the risk.
“You need what, Izzy?”