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  My fists clench. “What the fuck, Avery?” I bark out.

  Her head snaps in my direction. “What?” she questions with a scowl. “Why are you yelling at me?”

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I remind myself to calm down. She likes to push my buttons and if I don’t react like a neanderthal she’ll be pissed. “I’d prefer if you refrained from wearing clothing to work that promotes our competition,” I say sounding much calmer than I’m feeling.

  She glances down at her chest and smiles. “Oh, you mean this old thing?”

  Gritting my teeth together, I don’t react. I know enough about my biggest competition to know that this shirt was one of the newer options. They didn’t have this dumbass #TeamMagnus design until a couple months ago. “Yes.”

  “It’s my favorite t-shirt. The material is really soft and looks good with my jeans.” She slides her hands over the curves of her hips, palms caressing the denim material that’s painted on like a second skin.

  Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I move across the room to a storage closet located on the back wall. Inside there are shelves of supplies and I rummage through a few boxes before I find what I’m looking for. Turning back around, I walk toward her, stopping when we’re almost toe to toe. I hold up the black t-shirt that has my company’s name on it. “Please change into this and it’s yours to keep. I can give you more so you don’t have to keep washing this one.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” She raises an eyebrow.

  “No, I’m dead fucking serious. It’s not okay for you to show support to my competition when you’re working here.”

  “Fine,” she huffs, her eyes shooting sparks at me. She drops her purse to the ground and grips the bottom of her shirt in both hands. Tugging it slowly up, inch by captivating inch, my mouth goes dry as the perfection of her body is revealed. Her stomach is a smooth, unblemished expanse of skin, my fingers tingle with the desire to touch. Once it’s removed, she stands there with her hands on her hips, challenging me. I’d like nothing better than to rise to the bait. Hell, my dick rose to the bait the minute I saw an inch of her bare skin, but I can’t do what she expects now. If I do, I lose and winning is too fucking important when it comes to her. Gripping the new t-shirt in my hands, I tug it over her head and down her body, covering her banging rack in the sexy red bra. She shoves her arms through the holes, annoyance drips from her every move.

  “I’ve got some projects to check on, but I’ll be back later. What do you want me to bring you for lunch?”

  “But, you just got here.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just came to grab some paperwork to bring with me,” I tell her. I’m just making shit up as I go. All I know is I can’t be in the office with her any longer without both of us coming. Heading into my office, I grab a random folder from my desk and make my way to the front door. “Text me what you want for lunch,” I yell over my shoulder as I make my way outside. Once I’m in my truck, I throw the useless folder on the passenger seat and lean back against the leather headrest. Being around Avery is a lesson in restraint. We pretend we don’t want each other, but one of these days shit’s going to get real when I have my dick in her ass.

  I didn’t make it back to the office for lunch. There was a crisis on one of the job sites so I ended up ordering pizza delivery for her. I made sure to get sausage since I know it’s her favorite.

  By the time I make it back to pick her up, it’s after five and I know she must be pissed.

  When I step inside I’m surprised to find her busy moving furniture around. “What are you doing?” I question, surprising her.

  “Eek,” she lets out a cute little shriek and I smile. “What does it look like I’m doing, Einstein?”

  “Why are you rearranging my furniture?”

  “The flow is all wrong. You walk in and bam a desk. It’s not inviting at all.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I watch her as she moves things around on her newly situated desk. “You shouldn’t have moved all this without me. It’s too heavy for you to do by yourself.”

  She scoffs. “Don’t worry. I didn’t move it by myself.”

  “What do you mean?” I question with a frown.

  “Daryl helped me.”

  “Daryl who rents an apartment upstairs?” Daryl who has a different girl every time I see him.

  “Yep, that’s the one. Nice guy too. Did you know he’s in law school?”

  “I might remember something about that, but can we just stop talking about Daryl and get back to why the fuck you’re rearranging my office without asking me?”

  She blows out a large breath. “I told you the flow was all wrong.”

  “Whatever.” I raise my hands in defeat. I’ll pick my battles and I have to admit the way she’s placed everything does make it look a lot bigger. “I’ll leave you to your Sheng Fuey.”

  She snorts.

  “What?”

  “It’s Feng Shui. You’re such a caveman.”

  “I can promise you wouldn’t be complaining if I dragged you off by your hair.”

  9

  Avery

  It’s been a whole week. Five days I’ve been cooped up in this office, working for Wes. And two weeks in total, of almost seeing his face every damn day. This wasn’t part of the deal. The close proximity is becoming too much. Not a day passes where doors haven’t slammed, voices haven’t been raised and the sexual tension is at the point of explosion. The worst part is it’s so busy, I can’t even entertain the idea of leaving Wes to handle this by himself; but I need out. I text Wes and tell him we need a work meeting, things have to change around here.

  Me: What time can you get here?

  Wes: What’s wrong?

  Me: We need to discuss this “job” thing.

  Wes: Ominous?

  Me: Do you even know what that means?

  My phone starts ringing and I should’ve known he would call soon enough. He hates texting.

  “Yeah,” I answer dryly.

  “Of course I know what Ominous means”

  “We need to talk,” I say, getting straight to the point.

  “So, you’ve said. What’s bothering you now?”

  “I can’t keep working for you.” I thought he’d be quick to argue, but there’s nothing but silence on the other end.

  “Wes,” I say, checking he’s still on the line.

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear. Listen, I’ll be there in an hour. We can talk then.”

  He hangs up without saying bye, and all of a sudden I feel overwhelmed by the thought of sitting down and talking to him. I’m not trying to be a diva about it, but there’s only two ways things with Wes and I are going to turn out and neither of the possibilities are something I want to encounter. I know this is for the best. I’ve got to stick to my decision and just run with it. I’m not in desperate need of this job, and just thinking of all the things I can do for Jeremiah and Lucy while I’m home makes me sure this is the right choice. And since Wes and Lucy are friends, this is the only way he and I can maintain any civility until everything with mom works out.

  The phone rings, bringing me back to the moment. Regaining momentum, I continue to get through the long list of things that need to be done. As time passes quickly, it feels like only minutes before Wes is walking through the door. I look at the papers piled in front of me and mentally prepare myself for the talk. He sits in his usual spot opposite me, where we’ve eaten dinner and debriefed every day this week.

  “What, no food?” I ask sarcastically.

  “I don’t feed ex employees.”

  “Oh, it’s like that is it?” Honestly, what the fuck is wrong with me. I should be overjoyed he’s brushing me off and letting me off the hook.

  “I’m not going to beg you to stay, Avery.” He leans back in the chair and folds his arms across his chest, “but I have some conditions.”

  I bite my tongue, to avoid slipping into our usual
banter of insults, and stick to the task at hand. I slide everything I’ve put together toward him, “Okay, well before you tell me your shit, here is an instruction manual I made up for whoever starts next. It’s pretty straightforward, and more importantly they’ll be able to run your social media with no hiccups.”

  “We don’t need the instruction manual,” he says.

  “Yes you do, I’ve made changes. Good changes,” I argue.

  “I’m sure you have, and I’m grateful.” Running his hands down his face, I know whatever he’s about to say has been purposely formulated to ruffle my feathers. It’s his tell, and after so much time spent with one another; I can almost read him like a book. “I love what you’ve done so much, I want you to hire the new person. Pass on all that information - straight from the horse's mouth, you know?”

  “Are you asking me to stay till someone new comes on board?” I ask in clarification.

  “Well, I don’t want all your hard work to go to waste.”

  He knows I’m a stickler for perfection. There’s a reason people call me Anal Avery and it’s got nothing to do with my ass. The thought of somebody fucking up what I’ve set up and developed makes me nervous and that smirk on his face, tells me the fucker knows it.

  “Fine,” I grit out. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “Yes,” he says enthusiastically. “Now, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that shit you were talking about?”

  I raise an eyebrow, “I’m not a mind reader, Wes. What shit?”

  “Whatever that fuck face Magnus has?” he spits out.

  “You mean Twitter and Instagram?”

  He grunts like a neanderthal and I just assume we’re both on the same wavelength,

  “Yep, you’re all set up. Except he just hit a massive sponsorship with Timber, so you’ve still got some catching up to do.”

  “What the fuck is Timber?” He growls. Even if I don’t bite back with my smart ass commentary, Magnus is sure to make his blood boil.

  “It’s a new dating app,” I inform him. I google the website to show him. Spinning the computer screen around, I watch his face turn from confusion to pure anger. His jaw clenches together as Magnus’ face appears on the screen. Shirtless and centred, perfectly on the screen the caption “Lumberjack Love” flashing incessantly. It’s so damn cheesy; it’s perfect.

  “Are people really going to sign up to this shit?” He asks.

  “Wasn’t it you telling me all the ladies love you, and that disgusting germ carrier you call a beard?”

  “So are you going to join this dating app?” He asks, changing the subject.

  “Wh-” I cut myself off from objecting and realize this might actually be a way I can get Wes off my back.

  “I think I might,” I tease. “If I can’t have Magnus, I may as well see what else is on the market.”

  “He’s got a beard too, why aren’t you repulsed by it?”

  I turn the screen back around and start setting up my profile. For all intents and purposes, I need to follow this through.

  “Some guys can just pull it off, I guess,” I say with a shrug. The rage on his face spurs me on even more. “The app is perfect for finding a Magnus knock off; Hot beard, hot body.”

  “A body that’s probably injected with steroids.” He states, trying to find fault in my explanation. “It’s okay,” he continues, “we all know guys on steroids have smaller dicks anyway.”

  “I bet Magnus’ is the perfect size,” I challenge.

  “Pity he won’t know what to do with it.”

  “And the non existent ladies in your life prove that you do?” I scoff.

  “Oh, Avery,” he taunts. “Do you really want to go there?”

  “What?” I ask making eye contact and playing coy.

  “Go and find loverboy lumberjack on Timber,” he says nonchalantly, “but we both know when all this bullshit is said and done the only dick you’ll be calling perfect is mine.”

  I steer my eyes away from his confident demeanor and begin punching the keys harder; desperate to prove him wrong and find someone on this stupid app. He’s so sure of himself, it makes me want to cut down his ego whenever I can. I’m not touching his dick, not now, and not even if he was the last guy on the planet.

  “Oh look, it wants me to put up a profile picture.” Standing up, I purposefully fiddle around with my clothes. I run my hands over my tits and let them skim the curve of my ass. His eyes follow every single movement. “I think a bedroom selfie might be appropriate, what do you think, Wes?”

  Without saying a word, he stands up. With clenched fists and face full of fury, he leaves my office; Avery 1 - Wes 0

  10

  Wes

  Slumping down in my chair, I run my hand back and forth over my beard. I don’t know why I let Avery get to me so much. She’s a pro at pushing my buttons which is annoying as fuck, because no one ever pushes my buttons. I’m the motherfucking button pushing king.

  The thought of her dating someone else is anger inducing and I’m not ready to analyze why. She’s hot and I’ve wanted her beneath me since I saw her at the airport, but it’s more than that. I can get my dick wet whenever I want. There have been a lot of beautiful girls over the years, but none of them have ever gotten inside my head like she has.

  Sitting up straight, I get busy answering my emails and taking care of things I’ve been neglecting to do. I lose myself in the tedious work for about an hour, until there’s a knock on my door.

  “Come in.” I lean my arms on the desk and wait for Avery to appear.

  She peeks her head in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I have to go. They’re waking my mom up now.” The words leave her quickly.

  Pushing my chair back, I start to rise. “No, I don’t need a ride. Lucy’s already here.”

  I stand up anyway. “Does she need to leave Jeremiah with me?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “He’s going over a friend’s house after school. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she shouts as she’s already out of sight.

  I hurry after her, calling out, “Avery, wait.” I catch her just as she’s about to exit the building. She turns to look at me, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Good luck. I hope everything goes well with your mom.”

  “Thanks, Wes.” She smiles and it lights up the entire space.

  I can’t take my eyes off her until she’s out the door and out of sight. Even then I just stand there like the village idiot staring in the direction she walked off. Shaking my head, I walk to her desk to make sure she shut down her computer and I find her still logged into the Timber website. Grinning, I sit in her chair and begin browsing through her information.

  Hair color: brown

  Saying her hair is brown doesn’t really do it justice. It’s shinier and thicker than any hair I’ve ever seen. When I’m within five feet of her, I want to bury my fingers in it and never let her go.

  Eye color: green

  Her eyes are beautiful. They’re the deep green of a pine tree, but they’re enhanced with specks of golden grass green. I’ve never seen another pair the same color as hers.

  Interests: reading, music, shopping, spending time with friends.

  I wonder what her life in California was like. Who are her friends? How many guys has she been with?

  My eyes skim down the screen for something better than height and weight. I know the answers to those questions. She’s the perfect height and weight for me to fuck against the wall or anywhere else I want to.

  What attracts you to a man: a nice smile, tall, broad shouldered, tattoos, beard, brown hair, casual dresser, outdoorsy type.

  I bark out a laugh into the silence of the office. She just described me. I’m her perfect fucking man. “Fuck yeah.” Curving my arms down, hands in front of me, I flex my arms for my own benefit and stare at her computer screen grinning.

  Heading back to my office, I pull up the Timber website and create an account. I choose the username BigBadWolf as a nod to my c
ollege days. Wes The Wolf was the nickname my frat brothers gave me after I had a large wolf tattooed on my left pec. That night’s still a blur. I drank too much Jack and lost a bet or maybe I lost a bet and drank too much Jack. Either way the tattoo was the result. Since then I’ve grown to like it and I know the ladies do too. I wonder if Avery wants to pet my wolf.

  Smirking as I fill in all the requirements for my ‘perfect mate,’ I describe Avery to a T. I even make sure my interests match hers so there can be no fuck ups. For my profile pic, I take a selfie and edit most of my face out of it until all you can see is my mouth and my beard. Once I’m finished, I read through to make sure I’m satisfied. Leaning back in my chair, I smile. This is going to be a lot of fun.

  Living across the street from Lucy has never been as convenient as it is now that Avery’s here. After a long, hot shower and a quick bite to eat, I knock on the front door before pushing it open. Knocking is really just a formality. Lucy doesn’t care if I come and go as I please, but out of respect for her I don’t like to barge in. I know I don’t want people walking into my house unannounced.

  I find the three of them out in the backyard. Jeremiah is splashing around in the pool with Lucy and Avery’s lying back on a lounge chair staring off into the distance. My eyes devour every inch of her skin and there’s a lot of it exposed in her tiny green bikini.

  “How’s your mom?” I ask, taking the seat next to hers.

  Her eyes briefly flick in my direction. “She’s stable. They’re weaning her off the meds and she should be awake sometime tomorrow if all goes well.”