The One That Got Away (11 page)

‘No. One night should do it. On one condition.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Promise you’ll play tennis with me on the helipad.’

* * *

‘Max,
you’re wearing out the floorboards,’
said Evie. ‘And you’re driving me insane.’ It was four-thirty on Wednesday
afternoon and the reason that Max was driving her insane was that there was
still no word on the civic centre bid. ‘No news is good news.’

‘I hate platitudes,’ said Max. ‘We didn’t get it. We almost got
married for nothing.’

‘You almost got married?’ asked a startled Carlo, who was
hovering there with them, waiting on that call. Jeremy was there too—a junior
site engineer who’d been with them for two years. So was Kit, one of their
electrical subcontractors. Nervous people with nothing to do but wait on a phone
call that hadn’t yet come.

‘It’s a long story,’ said Evie. ‘Max wanted to marry me for his
money but wiser heads prevailed. Besides...that was before I met his big
brother.’

‘Impressive?’ asked Kit.

‘Be still my beating heart.’

‘Evie, one more platitude out of you and violence will ensue,’
threatened Max. ‘C’mon phone.
Ring
.’

‘A watched pot never boils,’ said Kit.

‘I thought it was “kettle”,’ offered Jeremy. ‘A watched kettle
never—’

And then the phone rang and shut them all up.

Suddenly it wasn’t so much fun to tease Max any more. He’d
thrown everything he had at this job and if they didn’t get it he was going to
be gutted. Carlo headed for his office cubicle, taking Jeremy with him. Kit eyed
Max warily and then said, ‘Got any biscuits in the tea room?’ and took himself
off.

Evie debated heading for her office but Max grabbed her by the
wrist and mouthed ‘Stay,’ as he listened intently to whatever the person on the
other end of that phone was saying.

Max let her wrist go when she nodded, and then Evie sat on the
edge of the table and tucked her hands beneath her legs and waited. Max resumed
his pacing. Evie most definitely wanted to land this job. But her heart wasn’t
in it the way Max’s was.

‘Yes,’ said Max, and, ‘yes,’ again. All very restrained.

The smile that swept across his handsome features moments later
was not so restrained. Max’s smile thought it was Christmas and there was a pony
under the tree.

He laughed and said he was looking forward to it. He set up a
meeting for tomorrow morning. And then he got the hell off the phone.

‘We got it,’ he said. ‘We got it!’

‘Of course we did,’ said Evie as Max swept her up into a bear
hug and swung her around. ‘MEP’s architect is a visionary, the company’s on its
way up and the price was right. What time is it in London?’

‘Ah, early morning? Seven-thirty? You calling Logan?’

‘Texting him, to be safe. I’m telling him we’re about to spend
his money.’

‘So...you’re talking again?’ asked Max. ‘There’s been
contact?’

‘There has. And I didn’t have to instigate it.’

‘That’s good,’ said Max. ‘That’s very good.’ He squeezed her
once more before releasing her. ‘Kit,’ he bellowed. ‘Break out the beer.’

The party started at the office and moved to the local bar,
where there was more food and a better beverage selection than the one they had
at the office. Their concreter turned up with a few of his crew—nothing like the
promise of more work and free drinks to raise a man’s spirits. Evie’s spirits
too, and who cared if she got ribbed for drinking champagne rather than beer?
Not her problem if her co-workers preferred beer. Not her job to tell them to
cease with the swearing, although she had a feeling that most of them
did
try to curb their language around her, which
boggled the mind given the curses that still slipped through.

‘How about asking Juliet Grace to come and be our new project
manager?’ she said as Max reached past her to put his empty beer glass down and
pick up a handful of peanuts. ‘She’s detail oriented, most of us know her, or
know of her, and she can handle this lot.’

‘A woman.’ Max eyed her dubiously.

‘Careful, Max. Your biases are showing.’

‘I’m not biased. I’m thinking.’

Evie laughed; she couldn’t help it. ‘Do you think more beer
will help?’

* * *

Logan
stood outside the busy Sydney bar and
watched as the slim woman with the raven-black hair and wicked smile signalled
the barman for another round of drinks. Max stood with her and so did at least a
dozen other men. Labourers half of them, they looked as if they’d come straight
from a job. A tight-knit group, intent on celebration, and it was clear that
Evie was one of them. Accepted by them. Protected by them, even if she didn’t
know it.

Though she probably did.

Evie had texted him that they’d won the contract. That
particular message had been waiting for him when he’d got off the plane in
Sydney.

He should have texted Evie back. Should have said, ‘I’m in
Sydney. Where are you?’

But uncertainty was riding him hard this evening and he’d
texted Max instead.

It didn’t look as if Max had told Evie that Logan was on his
way. She didn’t look like a woman who was waiting for her lover to walk through
the door. Evangeline Jones had a very fine habit of extracting pleasure from the
moment—no angst-ing required.

Logan envied her.

The amount of anguish that had gone into Logan’s decision to
get on a plane so that he could be with Evie and Max come civic centre decision
time could have filled the Pacific. Would Evie find it presumptuous? Would Max?
Would they want him there?

All he knew was that for the first time in his life he was
reaching out and wanting to be a part of something, as opposed to keeping
everything and everyone at arm’s length.

Arm’s length being the distance whereby he couldn’t
inadvertently hurt anyone and they couldn’t hurt him.

Logan watched as some moron bumped Evie in the shoulder as he
turned away from the bar with a tray full of drinks in hand. He watched as Max
automatically slung his arm around Evie’s shoulder and drew her to his side.

Logan didn’t viciously resent Evie and Max’s camaraderie. He
didn’t catch his breath and look down at the concrete beneath his feet in an
attempt to manage that part of him that wanted to take Max apart, piece by
bloody piece, for daring to touch what was his. Not him.

He looked back and tried to
not
want to beat his brother bloody.

Nope. Still no luck letting go of that particular desire.

He was so screwed.

Logan watched as Evie moved out from beneath Max’s shoulder and
settled herself on a barstool. Men at her back and beside her and the table
beneath her elbow now. Protected on all fronts. Also hogging the peanuts.

What if she didn’t
want
to make
room for Logan in her life tonight?

Because it was one thing for Max to know that Logan and Evie
were tangling. It was quite another to walk in there and stake his claim on her
in front of people she had to work with. God knew he had no desire to undermine
her authority.

Maybe if he
didn’t
stake his
claim—just went in there and kept his hands and his mouth off her...

Be Max’s brother rather than Evie’s lover. Keep everything
casual and easy—no biting jealousy or had-to-see-you-again obsession here. If he
could do that...

It was a pretty big if.

Moments later Logan’s phone beeped.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ the message from his brother
read, and he looked up and his brother was fiddling with his phone and Evie was
deep in laughing conversation with the giant across the table from her.

Another text from Max. ‘You want a gold-plated invitation?’

The short answer being yes. Either that or a machete to cut
through the mess of thoughts and feelings roiling round inside him.

With a shake of his head, Logan pocketed his phone and headed
for the open doorway of the bar. He’d know soon enough if he’d done the right
thing by coming here.

And he’d take her dismay straight up, if that was what she
served him.

The noise level was high as Logan stepped inside. The smell of
hops permeated the air. Not exactly an upscale establishment, this one. Cheerful
though. And then Max lifted his arm and gestured him over and bent to whisper
something in Evie’s ear and she whipped around and the smile that lit her face
wrapped around Logan’s heart and wouldn’t let go.

Her smile said she didn’t consider his presence an
intrusion.

Her smile telegraphed a message Logan had waited a lifetime to
hear.

Pleasure—not pain—because he was near.

Max snagged Evie’s champagne glass from her as she pushed
through the circle of men and headed straight for him and then she was in his
arms and her lips were on his and she tasted of strawberries and champagne and
generous, genuine welcome.

If ever there was a time to keep his wits about him this was
it, but the kiss deepened anyway, capturing him so completely that there was no
room for anything else. Only Evie.

Wolf whistles helped him to remember where he was.

Evie’s reckless smile told him she knew exactly where she was
and that she didn’t mind laying claim to him in public in the slightest. She
brushed her thumb over his lips and kissed him swiftly once more, and then took
him by the arm and propelled him forward towards the group she’d been sitting
with.

‘Everyone, this is Logan Black. He bankrolls us from time to
time. He’s also Max’s brother.’

Max picked up two drinks from the table—a whisky shot and a
beer chaser. ‘You’re going to have to catch up,’ he said, and handed them to
Logan.

Max’s casual welcome worked to soothe Logan some. The welcome
said, ‘I know damn well you’ve never been this invested in my successes before,
but I’m open to it no matter what the reason. You’re my brother. You want in,
you’re in.’

‘Doesn’t seem entirely wise,’ said Logan, but he took the
drinks anyway, sent the whisky straight down and set the beer on the table for
later. ‘Congratulations on landing the job.’

‘Thanks.’ Max clasped Logan’s forearm to his. ‘Couldn’t have
done it without you. You just get in?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You
knew
he was coming in?’ asked
Evie.

‘Surprise,’ said Max and grinned, warm and wide, at Evie’s
narrow-eyed glare. ‘Who says I can’t keep a secret?’

‘It was very last-minute,’ Logan offered by way of lame excuse.
‘Didn’t know if I’d make it in time.’

‘You came straight from the plane?’

Logan rubbed ruefully at his bristly jaw—he’d last shaved back
in London, about thirty hours ago by his count. ‘Why? Does it show?’

‘To your extreme advantage,’ said Evie dryly. ‘You are so
pretty
when you get all tousled and unshaven. Have you
eaten?’

‘No.’

‘Most of this lot will clear out in another hour or so. I was
planning on grabbing a meal somewhere nearby with your brother. Which should in
no way be construed as a date,’ she added with a touch of anxiety.

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ He liked that little hint of
anxiousness in her. He liked it a lot. And hated himself for it. His father had
kept his mother anxious, always one breath away from outright fear. God, he
remembered her fear. This wasn’t the same.

Dear God, make it not be the same.

‘You want to come along?’ she asked next.

‘Yeah.’ Logan ran a hand through his hair and looked to the bar
rather than at Evie.

‘Yeah, that’d be good,’ he muttered.

‘What’s good?’ asked Max.

‘Food.’

‘When?’

‘Whenever you’re done here.’

He wasn’t jealous of the bond Evie shared with Max. He
wasn’t
.

‘One more round,’ said Max and Logan nodded.

‘Max’s happy,’ he said as his brother turned away.

‘Very,’ replied Evie. ‘There’ll be no living with him after
this. He’s going to drive the workmen on this project bonkers. Fortunately, I
have a solution. Her name’s Juliet Grace.’

‘She’s going to distract him?’

‘Not at all. Juliet’s a construction manager with forty years’
worth of high-end project management under her belt.’ Evie smiled sagely. ‘She’s
going to control him.’

* * *

Evie
made Logan feel wanted. There was no
other explanation for the warmth in his body and the smile that came so readily
to his lips. Easy to make an effort to fit in when a person felt wanted. Cost
him nothing to satisfy people’s curiosity about what he did for a living and to
grin and wear it when one of them asked him where he’d been all Evie’s life.
‘He’s mine,’ Evie told them more than once. ‘All mine. I saw him first.’

‘But I have a puppy,’ called Kit. ‘I bet Logan likes
puppies.’

‘I have goldfish,’ said another pure soul.

‘I have breasts,’ said Evie smugly and Logan almost choked on
his beer as Kit pouted and the men around him roared. She knew how to handle her
subbies, damned if she didn’t.

‘Max, you got another brother?’ asked Kit.

Max shook his head and met Logan’s gaze with an affectionate
one of his own. ‘One’s enough.’

‘Cousin?’ asked Kit, and Max glanced back at Kit with a quick
grin.

‘She’s married.’

‘Guess you’ll have to do,’ said Kit with a devil’s slow
grin.

And Max blushed.

Logan leaned in towards Evie and she made it easy for him by
tucking into the circle of his arms. ‘Did my brother just blush?’ he whispered
in her ear.

‘You’re very astute.’

‘Are they—?’ Shock robbed him of words.

‘Not yet.’

‘But has he
ever
—?’ Still no
words.

‘You mean has
Max
ever? Not that I
know of, but it wouldn’t surprise me. Kit’s not the type to persist when he
knows the other guy’s straight. And he
has
been
persisting. Which means Max hasn’t yet given him a definitive no.’