One Good Reason

Was he for real?

“Of course. Make yourself at home. Maybe you’d like a coffee while you’re at it?”

He did glance up and she found herself staring into a pair of dark gray eyes.

“Tyler said I could jump on to check a few things. I’ll be out of your hair in a second.”

His voice was low and deep, a subterranean rumble along her nerve endings. Between it and those eyes and the shape of his jaw and face, it wasn’t hard to work out who he was: Jon Adamson, Tyler’s brother.

He turned to the computer and Gabby found herself staring at his shoulders again. He was bigger than Tyler, broader. She knew he was older by a year or so, too, but apart from that, the only things she knew about Jon were that until recently he’d been living in Canada, that he’d missed Ally and Tyler’s wedding because of some business commitment there, and that the past few months he’d been in Woodend while he renovated the family home prior to sale. Correction, she knew one other thing—he was rude. Because surely even the most insensitive person could guess that invading somebody’s personal space then virtually ignoring them when they discovered you was not exactly the way to go about winning friends.

She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. And waited.

And waited.

After what felt like an age, Jon hit a key on her computer and pushed away from the desk.

“Thanks for that,” he said as he stood.

He was a little taller than Tyler, and now that he was facing her she noted further similarities and differences between the brothers. His cheekbones were pronounced like Tyler’s but sharper, and the lines around his eyes and mouth were deeper. His jaw was the same strong, sure arc, his chin as determined, but his eyes were a much darker gray, the color of storm clouds instead of Tyler’s unusual quicksilver.

Her gaze swept his body, taking in his pristine white T-shirt and his equally crisp-looking jeans. Both new, unless she missed her guess. Only his boots looked well-worn. She refocused on his face, noting his clean-shaven jaw and the military neatness of his buzz cut.

He looked … newly minted somehow. But in a raw, spare kind of way.

She was aware of him checking her out, too, and for a crazy second wished she was wearing something other than a faded T-shirt and jeans and that she’d gone for a proper haircut instead of trimming her fringe with the nail scissors this morning.

She shook the thought off quickly—all signs pointed to the fact this man was an ass, and she didn’t give two hoots what an ass thought of her.

Not even one hoot.

“You’re Gabrielle, right? Jon Adamson.” He offered his hand.

She let him hang for a moment before sliding her hand into his. It seemed only fair, since he’d kept her hanging.

“It’s Gabby.”

His palm swallowed hers, and she felt the roughness of calluses against her own soft skin.

“You all finished now?” she asked. “I don’t want to cramp your style.”

He gave her an assessing look. “Like I said, Tyler didn’t seem to think you’d mind if I used your office for a few minutes. But if I’ve stepped on your toes, I apologize.”

His tone was very even, very calm. As though she was the one who was out of line here. She felt herself bristling even more and was forced to admit that maybe she was overreacting a little. After all, he’d simply borrowed her computer, with her boss’s permission. Nothing to get her panties in a twist over.

Except …

He was too big and too strangely familiar, and yet not, and she felt … invaded and a little overwhelmed by his unexpected presence.

She wanted him gone. Wanted her space back.

“I was a little thrown, that’s all.”

“Again, sorry if I stepped on your toes.”

He moved out from behind her desk and she took a hasty step to the side to avoid brushing against him as he headed for the door.

She watched as he strode away, his broad shoulders dipping from side to side like a cowboy as he walked. Only when he was gone did she take a seat in her chair. It was warm from his body and she shifted, feeling invaded all over again.

Why he couldn’t have used Tyler’s computer, she didn’t know. Or at least Tyler could have given her a heads-up, told her he’d loaned her office to his brother.

Can you hear yourself? Anyone would think you were eighty-two, not thirty-two. Next you’ll be talking about young people today and how things were different in your day.

Gabby took a deep breath and let it out. She’d already acknowledged she’d overreacted. Yes, Jon could have handled the situation better, too, but she was blowing the whole incident out of proportion. It was a blip on the radar, nothing to get worked up over. He was probably only visiting the workshop for a few minutes, using the excuse of checking out his brother’s business to abuse the facilities. The odds were good she’d never see him again.

Launching her email program, she started reading the latest batch of orders and enquiries, absently running her fingers through her short dark hair. She was about to respond to a complicated request from one of their corporate customers when Tyler appeared at her door, a mug of coffee in hand.

“You got a minute?” He propped a shoulder against the frame. As usual, he was dressed in faded jeans and a black T-shirt, the color a perfect foil for his silver eyes.

It was impossible to look at him and not think about his brother. The resemblance was that strong.

“As in a genuine sixty seconds? Absolutely. Anything more than that and you’ll be paying me overtime tonight.”

“Dream on,” Tyler said with a snort of amusement.

He sat in her visitor’s chair, his big body loose and relaxed. Gabby studied him for a beat, fascinated despite herself by the change in him over the past year.

The easy laughter, the softness in his eyes, even the way he moved—Tyler was a new man since he’d met and married Ally.

Happier. More content. Less single-minded and closed off.

It was good to see. No, it was better than good—it was great. Tyler deserved some peace and comfort in his life.

She frowned at the wistful note to her own thoughts.

That’ll be enough of that, young lady.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” she said. “I wasn’t joking about being snowed.”

“You can work through lunch.”

“Your turn to dream on. You know nothing gets between me and my food. Come on, spill. Quit chewing up my valuable time.”

“It’s no biggy. I need you to add my brother to our insurance policy.”

Gabby sat a little straighter. “What?”

“Jon. My brother. He’s going to be helping out here at the workshop for a while.”