and take it to the dumpster outside. Rod is already working with his measuring tape.

"Be right back," I tell him on the way through the kitchen out back.

My phone rings with Pierce's name on the screen. "Hey," I answer, walking further into the yard, surveying what needs yanking out.

"I need a favor," he clips coldly.

"What's wrong?"

"I just dropped the kids at their schools and am headed to the bakery."

"Something up?"

"Darby's hiding something. She left the house so damn early the kids weren't up yet. I tried to fast track getting them ready for school. Now she isn't answering her phone, which is pissing me off."

"She may be busy."

"Too busy to answer the fucking phone? That shit will not fly. She's avoiding me until she can pull herself together and pretend nothing is wrong."

"Are you always this unreasonable?" This is a rhetorical question because everyone who knows Pierce is aware of his obsession with Darby. If she shows the slightest sign of distress, he is out of his mind.

"Not the morning to fuck with me, Miller."

"What do you need from me?"

"I'll message you a list of things that need attention this morning."

"You think your shit will take all morning to handle?"

"Hell if I know, but my wife's upset, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to fix it."

"All right, send it over."

"Thanks."

I end the call and head back into the house. When I hit the kitchen, my entire body tenses at the scene. Ashlyn and Rod are huddled close over the small table in the middle of the room, and she's walking him through her design drawing. Her hair hangs in loose waves, her face is made up, and she's covered the tank with an oversized t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder.

She raises her face to mine, and the businesswoman is in place.

"Rod offered to take me to an appliance showroom this morning," she informs me.

Rod's a good enough guy. Reliable, low drama, and one hell of a subcontractor. But he's also my age and a red-blooded male. "Is that right? That was generous."

Rod picks up on my tone, raises his eyes to mine, and his lips curl as he takes a side step away.

She rolls her eyes, straightening her stance. "Yes, it was generous."

"Thanks for the offer, Rod. I'll roll by there after Ashlyn and I finish up rounds this morning."

"What rounds?" she throws back.

"Pierce had an unexpected change to his schedule, and he's on his way to Darby. I'm helping him out."

"Is Darby okay?"

"She will be once my brother gets to her. Now grab your things. As soon as Rod's done, we're headed out."

"Headed out where? I have plenty to do here."

"You're done for the day. A crew is coming to finish clearing the upstairs."

"All the more reason for me to stick around since you have to help your family. I'll supervise your team."

"My guys are competent. Get your bag and pack up your samples."

Her face stays passive, but her eyes flare with defiance. "You go ahead with your day, Miller, I'll be in charge here."

"Princess, get your damn stuff, and let's go. We're wasting time."

"No, you're wasting time with this useless conversation. And don't call me Princess!" She scowls, crossing her arms to make her point.

Rod coughs to cover his amusement, and she whips her head to him. "Something funny?"

"Not at all, I'm enjoying the entertainment."

"Nothing about this is amusing."

"You're not standing in my shoes. What I'm seeing is fucking hilarious."

"It will not be hilarious when I fire you both for insubordination."

His eyes dart to mine and his expression tells it all. He's waiting to see how I'll handle this. It's my turn to chuckle.

"What are you laughing at?" she snaps.

"Good to know the bitch comes out when you don't get your way."

"Did you call me a bitch?"

"Nope, made an observation. We need to finish this and get going."

Her glare grows scorching, and splotches of red creep up her neck. Tension floats in the air between us as I hold her stare.

"As fun as this has been, I'm done. I'll email you later with the final numbers. Let me know about the appliances. My offer to go with you stands." Rod reaches around her to get his notebook.

"I've got it covered," I answer him.

"That's what I figured. Looking forward to seeing how this turns out. Nice to meet you, Ashlyn. Sure I'll see you again."

Ashlyn slices her eyes to him, some of her irritation thawing.

"You are one crazy fool," he mumbles, passing by on his way out.

When we're alone, she remains quiet, staring into space as she works through something in her mind.

"You have something to say—go for it."

"I should have known this would not work. It's impossible to have a professional relationship with a man I've slept with. It's best if we cut our ties and move on."

It's not what she says, but the way she says it. Her voice is steady and removed, her expression no longer flushed with irritation but reflective in part. She's resigned, and when her eyes meet mine, I don't like the vacancy brewing in them.

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"No, really. This morning is a perfect example."

"How do you figure that?"

"It started with you chastising me for using a ladder, bossing me around, and ended with you embarrassing and undermining me with one of my workers. I won't stand for it."

"Won't stand for it?"

"Absolutely not."

"Bury the bitch, Ashlyn. She's not needed here."

"Stop calling me a bitch."

"Then open your eyes to what's happening and stop being defensive. I didn't like you on the ladder, not because you aren't capable, but because you were alone. Accidents happen, even to professionals, and since you're not a professional, it's a higher likelihood you could get hurt. That was me showing concern.

"There's nothing to be fucking embarrassed over. Rod didn't think twice about what happened here. You need to understand these workers, as you refer to them, they work for me, not you. Therefore, there is no undermining. They have their jobs, and they do

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