What If I Never (Necklace Trilogy 1)

“I haven’t seen it but I’d say my primary concern is a need for a vault service.”

“Tyler has a vault with lockboxes he uses for valuables and contracts.”

“Oh. Well, that’s unexpected.”

“From what my sister tells me when you’re dealing with their kind of clientele, there are times when those people want to protect assets and do so off the books.”

The remark makes it clear that he doesn’t see himself as one of those people. I like this about Dash. There’s a lot I like about Dash. “Okay, so we have the event at Hawk Legal. I like it. But I’m sure Tyler won’t like losing the money he put down at this venue.”

“I doubt he’ll lose it,” he replies. “Hawk Legal is nothing if not powerful and resourceful.”

My cellphone rings and I snake it from my purse to find an unfamiliar local number. Concerned for my mother, I quickly answer with, “Allison Wright.”

“Ms. Wright.”

At the sound of Tyler’s sharp tone I stiffen and meet Dash’s gaze as I reply with, “Mr. Hawk,” I say, not pushing the name issue, not when I can hear the displeasure in his voice.

“When will you be returning to the office?” he queries. “We need to talk and set a few boundaries before I head to a meeting.”

My heart races with the inference that I’ve done something wrong. “I’m at the venue now,” I state. “I’ll head that way.”

“I’ll be waiting.” He hangs up. No goodbye. No other words.

Frowning, I shove my phone back inside my purse.

“Problem?” Dash asks, but his intelligent blue eyes say he already suspects what’s going on.

With that in mind, I don’t even consider mincing words. “I’m pretty sure you’re the problem. I could tell that Tyler was pissed that I’d talked to you about what I had going on before I talked to him. He said he needs me back at the office to set boundaries.”

His jaw sharpens. “I would agree with Tyler. You do need to set boundaries. Yours, not his.”

“Easier done when I’m educated on what I’m dealing with,” I say, continuing down my direct path. “There’s a notable tension between you and Tyler,” I dare. “I’m not asking what it’s about. That’s not my business, but I do need to know how to navigate it.”

“Tyler and I have an understanding that works for us,” he says tightly. “I’ve drawn my line in the sand. Make sure you draw that line for yourself. Make sure he knows you don’t need this job because he does need you.” When I would reply, he steps closer to me, really close, so close I can feel the heat of his body, and I seem to have lost not just my thought, but the use of my vocabulary.

I hold my breath anticipating whatever is coming.

But seconds tick by, and he says nothing. He’s just looking at me, staring at me, and then, “Let’s get you back,” and I can all but feel a wall slam between us, but I’m not sure why. He steps back and motions me toward the door.

I feel like I should say something, defuse the tension with some brilliant joke that I just can’t come up with. Forced to accept the awkwardness, I start walking.

We exit into the hallway and head for the lobby, and his pace is quick, our path through the hotel quick with it. Once we’re outside, the wind, fiercer than earlier, pounces on us but he doesn’t react. He is truly more stone than man right now and I don’t understand how the easy laughter between us transformed and became as chilled as the weather. Stealing a peek at him, I search for a sign of the former, but there is nothing to find but hard lines and obstacles.

We are winding down on our path to the Hawk building, and I fear our goodbye to be as cold as this walk. At this point, we’re a few feet from the Hawk entryway, when unexpectantly, Dash catches my arm and pulls me behind one of two towering statues of guitars. His hand that so quickly scorches me with his touch, is just suddenly gone, and now presses above my head. But he is close again, so very close, the earthy, wonderfully male scent of him, teases my senses. Every part of me is aware of this man.

“You’re vulnerable right now, Allie,” he says roughly, “a lamb in a lion’s cage. Go back home before you end up hurt.”

I blanch, shocked at what I can only call a dismissal and one that I do not expect. “What? I—I don’t understand. You said Tyler needs me. You said we’d work together, not that I need you to do that, but I’m—I’m just very confused right now.”

There is a flicker in his eyes I cannot read, and even as I try, his lashes lower, seconds ticking by, dark shadows flirting across his expression before he says, “Go home,” and when he meets my stare, whatever I’d thought I’d seen before, is wiped away. “Before you get hurt,” he adds.