Page 4 of A Little More Forgiveness

The guy was about the same build as Leo, but on steroids. Feet planted solidly on the deck, his jeans stretched to breaking point as they wrapped around his big calves and thick thighs. Muscled arms crossed defiantly over his chest had his biceps trying to fight their way out of his flannel shirt. Flannel shirt, for crying out loud.

I could almost hear the movie theater audience screaming for me to run.

Trucker cap pulled low over his eyes, all I saw of his face was his deep-chestnut-brown hair curling out from underneath the edges, and his beard. Not too bushy, but long enough to feel good as the short wiry strands scraped over my bare skin.

What the fuck? This was so not the time to be thinking of being naked with a Sasquatch. But now the image had fixed itself in my brain, I easily pictured the weight of his larger body holding me down as he did whatever the hell he wanted to me.

The guy, clearly braced for a confrontation, with the two massive bloodhounds standing guard either side of him, wasn’t fucking around, so why the hell was I thinking about doing exactly that with him?

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said glaring at Leo, his deep timbre a lot quieter than I expected but still loud enough to carry across the yard and send ripples of awareness along my skin.

“Mr. Houghton,” Leo placated, “we talked about this, remember? You agreed to at least listen to what the potential buyers had to say before making a final decision.”

Houghton’s lips curled in disgust as he studied us. “I changed my mind, so talking won’t make any difference.” His gaze finally stopped on me. “The deal is off.”

“What’s he talking about?” I asked, my voice low so my question wouldn’t carry in the unearthly quiet of our surroundings. “I thought he wanted to sell this dump.”

“Um.”

Fucking um?

“I’m not signing any papers.” He threw the screwed-up ball of what I presumed were the sale documents our company had drawn up into the mud between us. “My brother and I are not selling the cabin.”

Oh, shit he doesn’t know.

I groaned inwardly. This situation was going to turn ugly, real soon.

Giving myself a mental shake and squaring my shoulders for the inevitable, I stepped forward into the firing line. “Mr. Houghton, I’m Gabriel Sanchez from Skyscraper Construction. Perhaps we can go inside out of the cold and discuss the sale some more?”

He didn’t move. “I know who you are,” he growled, sending goose bumps prickling over my body. So not the time, Sanchez. So not the time.

“Okay.” I could have sent any representative from the company for the negotiations, so for him to recognize me specifically told me he’d done his research. He might look like a serial killer, but at least he was an intelligent one. Sensing we weren't going to be allowed inside anytime soon, I reached inside my coat pocket and reluctantly pulled out the document guaranteed to push him over the edge. “I was under the impression from your lawyer and your brother you were willing to sell the remaining half of the property to us.”

Mitchell Houghton screwed up his mouth as if chewing an angry wasp. “My brother?” he barked. “Remaining half?”

I gestured to the papers in my hand. “If you’d take a look at this document, you’ll see it confirms Jared Houghton signed his half of the estate over to my company.” I braced for his response. “And we now own fifty percent of the property and all its land.”

Leo’s sharp intake of breath should have felt good. He obviously didn’t know about this development, and if I’d learned anything in business, keeping your opponent off-balance ensured they wouldn’t get the chance to do the same to you. His chagrin should have made me feel better, knowing I had the upper hand in our discussion, but for some reason I didn’t want to question too closely, it didn’t.

Complete and utter silence stretched between the three of us as they both stared at me, sending tension stretching along my nerves, pulling them tighter and tighter until the pressure became too much and, annoyingly, I broke first.

“If you’d like to take a look,” I repeated calmly, as if trying to soothe a wounded animal, and again held up the offending document currently searing the skin off my fingers. Leo moved first and practically ripped the papers out of my hand.

“A heads-up would have been nice,” he snapped, and for the first time since we’d met, steel flashed in his eyes, and my body instantly reacted to the change in his demeanor, a pulse of awareness arrowing to my groin.

What the hell was wrong with me today? Focus. Fucking focus.

Leo scanned the contents and, with a scowl aimed at me, stalked over to Mitchell Houghton and handed the papers to him. Standing side by side they couldn’t be more different. Leo in a smart navy suit and winter jacket. Mitchell in shirt and jeans. Wheat-blond hair versus dark chestnut. They shouldn’t go, shouldn’t match in any way, yet looking at them, heads bowed as they both studied the paperwork, they absolutely did.

Something began to flutter deep in my belly and swirl around my body, spreading to every part of me, a sensation I refused to name and certainly didn’t want to understand.

I stamped the emotion down. Hard.

“Get off my land,” Mitchell roared suddenly, making us both jump and the dogs stand to attention and instantly bark, followed by a deep growling that raised the hackles on the back of my neck. He stepped forward off the porch, walking over until he stood a few feet away and, holding the papers in front of me, ripped them in two before discarding them in the mud. “I said, get off my land,” he repeated darkly, and as he stared into my face, the sarcastic retort I’d been about to give to correct his error caught in my throat. Despite the intense anger radiating from his every pore, I finally saw into his hazel eyes, and they were filled with so much pain and betrayal, such profound loss, it pierced deep into my soul.

“Mr. Houghton, please,” Leo tried.

Michell stiffened and, ignoring Leo’s plea, turned on his heel and stalked inside his home, dogs obediently at his heels. The slamming of the front door was deafening in the eerie quiet of the forest surrounding us, and awfully final.

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