Make Me Need. Katee Robert
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“Exactly.” She still didn’t look convinced this wasn’t some kind of trick.
That made two of them.
Cameron...didn’t do this. He didn’t do interpersonal relationships. Too damn bad. Going to have to figure it out as you go, and it’s one hell of a learning curve. He didn’t move from his spot. “I respectfully request that you either hire out for the painting or wait until after hours when I can help you.”
Trish opened her mouth like she was going to snap back but seemed to consider. “It’s an unnecessary expense to hire such a small job out when I’m more than capable of handling it. For that matter, there’s no reason for you to take time away from your...whatever it is you do for leisure...to help me. I have it covered.”
She had it covered all the way to an ER visit with a broken arm. Or worse.
He met her gaze steadily. “When are you buying the paint?”
Cameron could almost see the gears whirling in her head as she tried to find a way out of this. He could have told her there was no way out. He wouldn’t let her paint this room by herself, and her little stunt this weekend had shown her hand—if she thought she could get away with it, she’d do it behind his back to avoid dealing with him.
If she was anyone else, he would have found her independence a relief. It meant he could focus on his job and let her do hers. But Trish wasn’t anyone else—she was Trish. He needed to keep her safe, even if that meant keeping her safe from working herself to the bone.
Finally, she sighed. “I’m going to pick it up after work.”
“Pick it up tomorrow.” He didn’t bother to keep the command out of his voice. If she went and got it after hours, she’d be right back here the second he wasn’t looking.
She’s not a wayward puppy, asshole. She’s a person.
Yes, she was. A person who had excellent work ethic and showed every evidence of being just as stubborn as her older brother—the same older brother Cameron would have to answer to if something happened to her. That was all. It was simple, really. Not in the least bit complicated. He certainly didn’t have any ulterior motives.
Trish narrowed her eyes. “You can’t tell me what to do after hours.”
“It concerns this job, so I sure as hell can. We’ll take a long lunch tomorrow and paint the damn boardroom. You can pick up the paint late morning beforehand.”
For a moment, it seemed like she’d keep arguing, but then she gave him a brilliant smile. “Sure thing, Mr. O’Clery.” Trish turned on her heel and marched out of the room.
Okay, that was definitely a trap.
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