Relentless (Mason Family 4)

He dips his head and peers into my eyes. “I think we could be a good team, Shaye.”

“Maybe.”

He smirks and shakes his head. “Fair enough. Talk soon.”

“Goodbye, Oliver.”

I nod and give him a little smile before turning on my heel. My eyes meet Genevieve’s. She whips her head back to her computer screen and pretends not to have been watching.

But I get it.

Oliver Mason is hard not to stare at.

I have a half of a notion to turn around and stare at him again too.

Six

Oliver

“How the hell are we going to pull this off?” Holt plops a finger onto the set of plans spread out on the hood of his truck. “This project is a nightmare already. Leave it to Boone.”

“So we’re blaming this on Boone?” I ask.

“Yeah. Why not?”

“Hey, I’m not saying I’m ever against blaming shit on Boone,” I say with a shrug. “I just wanted to be clear.”

“Yes. We’re pinning this on him.”

“Cool.”

We exchange a smile.

Holt and I face a large dirt lot. We purchased this parcel from the Landry’s last year for a new retail area. After some permitting issues and a few tweaks to meet accepted green building methods—an agreement we made with the Landrys when we bought the property—we’re finally ready to approve the final design.

In theory. It’s not coming together.

Nothing is coming together these days.

My mind goes to Shaye immediately. It’s only vaguely left her all day. I’m not sure what I’m most frustrated by—the fact that she didn’t accept my offer or the fact that I offered her the job to start with?

It’s a bunch of fuckery either way.

“How far was the survey off?” Holt asks.

It takes a lot of effort to refocus my mind.

“The front of the property is about fifty yards narrower than we originally thought,” I say. “So instead of going to the east with this whole arm of the building like we planned, Wade had to go up and back with the design.”

“But it leaves all of this as wasted space.” He motions toward the edge of the property. “I mean, Wade didn’t have much to work with—I get that. But I don’t like it.”

I slide my sunglasses off. “Tell him that. Please.”

Holt chuckles.

I walk toward the property line, leaving my brother at the truck.

The boots that I changed into when we got here crunch against the earth. Puffs of dust billow at my feet and infiltrate my nose.

It’s honestly one of my favorite parts of our business. Sure, sitting in an office with floor-to-ceiling windows is great. The adrenaline of signing a multimillion-dollar deal is pretty damn awesome. But getting outside, smelling the dirt, feeling the fresh air on my face, and knowing that I get to decide how to transform this space of the universe makes me feel like a kid again. It reminds me of playing with Tonka trucks in the backyard. It’s what gets me up in the morning.

I stop walking and face Holt. “The entire vibe changes with the new design. It feels … crunched. It’s even more obvious being out here …”

Holt nods. “I’m with you. It’s worse than I thought. And now I see why Greg was saying we’re going to have to try to get permission from the property owner to the east to use their land, or some of it, for staging and ingress and egress.”

“That never ends well.”

“I know, but what else are we going to do?” Holt asks.

“Fuck if I know. We can’t come in from the west because of that damn neighborhood two miles down. Did we ever figure out what all that is about?”

“Apparently, someone who lives there is on the city council. There’s supposedly some shady shit that might get leaked before the next election cycle, and he’s going out of his way to make good with his constituents by keeping the noise and dust down,” Holt grumbles. “Fucking politics.”

“I hear ya.”

Holt walks across the property and stands next to me. We take in our surroundings.

“There’s a right-of-way over here,” Holt says, turning around and facing the property line. “Could that help us in any way?”

“It’s a gas company right-of-way, so no. We don’t want anything to do with that.”

The wind picks up as we take in the area. Tiny pieces of dirt and sand are tossed into the air. They dance around us, making Holt sneeze. Once. Not four times in a row.

I stifle a chuckle as a warmth erupts in my core.

Shaye.

I can’t decide if she’s a blessing or a curse.

She frazzles me. I can’t seem to figure out what to do with her, yet I feel a need to find an answer. She just sits in the back of my mind. She’s the elephant in my head.

I can’t put my finger on it. Yes, she’s gorgeous, but I meet a lot of beautiful women. Sure, she’s amusing, but since when is that my Achilles’ heel? I absolutely want to fuck her, but it’s more than that. I want to have dinner with her. Talk to her.