Page 47 of His Own Heaven

“I know,” Toby said with a snort. “But it was the old man who taught me to always do the right thing, even if it’s not in my best interest.”

His brother chuckled. “All I’m saying is talk to her. Find out if you’re on the same page.”

Until she’d blown him off that afternoon, he’d already thought they were. “And if we’re not?” Toby asked, pulling off the highway into the service centre to refuel.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“I’m not so sure. Before she slammed her door on me, she’d been pretty adamant that rules exist for a reason and she was sorry she’d broken hers,” he said, disgusted with himself for making her feel that way. Christ, it had been a long time since he’d worried about shit like that. He didn’t miss it, the feeling of always being on edge, wondering if he was screwing everything up. Finding out too late that yes, actually, he had.

Charlie unfastened his seat belt and shrugged, clearly unconcerned about Toby’s inner battle for control over his uncertainty.Bastard. “I remember she was pretty adamant about only staying for one night too,” he said, reaching for the door handle. “And look how that turned out.”

Toby was halfway out the driver side door when his brother’s words hit their mark.

Well, shit.

Chapter Fifteen

It was Monday morning, and Lucy pulled into the carpark of Bennett’s Gardens and Landscaping at seven o’clock sharp, ready to begin her new job.

Toby was already there. His truck was parked beside the entrance, and the sight of it immediately filled her stomach with a riot of butterflies. Partly because she remembered the way he’d touched her the first time she’d been in his truck, how nice it had felt to be wrapped up in his arms, and how easily he’d gotten her off using nothing but his fingers.

Mostly the butterflies were in a tizzy because of the second time she’d been in his truck, when he’d driven her home and she’d been rude to him because that had been easier than dealing with her feelings.

To make matters worse, when he’d unexpectedly kept his promise and actually called her, she’d fobbed him off and refused to answer her phone, letting his call go straight to voicemail.

It had been a childish decision she was sure would come back to bite her in the arse, but in her defence, she’d still been upset with him for being a dick to her when all she’d done was try to help.

Just because she was submissive didn’t mean he could yell at her for no good reason.

Later that night, she’d gotten over herself, did some adulting, and checked her voicemail. And almost swooned at the sound of his rich baritone saying her name and calling her “baby”. Toby had apologised for his “ungrateful attitude”, then asked her to come in early so they could “talk”.

That was the other thing jacking up her heart rate. Nothing good ever came of people wanting to “talk” to her.

The main gate was still locked, but just as she was looking for another way inside, Toby appeared and waved to her.

“Over here.” He held open a smaller side gate and ushered her through, but with his big body partially blocking the entrance, Lucy had to practically squeeze past him. She tried desperately not to breathe him in as she passed, not to lean even closer than she already had to and inhale his scent.

Well, she pretended to try.

He smelled so good, like crisp linen but with an undertone of something she’d come to recognise as being all Toby—cut grass and morning dew and freshly turned earth after the rain. The man smelled like spring, and it did things to her.

So many inconvenient things.

“Good morning, Miss Barton.”

Miss Barton?Crap. That didn’t sound promising, even if his voice did sound like liquid sex, all smooth and deep and tempting.

She swallowed, her throat working overtime to push even one word out. “Morning,” she finally stammered. She’d reserve the right to decide if it was good or not after their talk.

Awkward silence stretched between them as she followed him inside the administration building, separated into three main areas. The front section was the reception area. The desk was hidden behind a curved half-wall, the company name and logo displayed across the front of it. A small sitting area filled with comfortable chairs, a small coffee table and a water cooler occupied the space between the desk and the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the garden centre. This would be her workspace. To the side of reception was a small conference room.

Toby had explained during her interview that he used the room primarily for the landscaping side of the business, for meetings with clients and his work crew. The third area was Toby’s office and was situated directly behind the reception area.

Toby’s workspace was different from the others in that there were no windows, only a back door and a large skylight. When she’d asked him why, he’d explained he worked better without distractions, but after spending the weekend with the man, she had a hunch it also afforded him the privacy every introvert craves and gave him a safe space to retreat to when it was too peopley outside.

“I’m glad you got my message,” he said without even a hint of censure.

Keeping her gaze pinned to his broad back and definitelynotthe magnificence of his firm arse packaged almost sinfully in a pair of cargo shorts, she followed him inside his office and quietly closed the door.

---