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He turns quickly, and the recognition in his eyes is immediate as he takes a step back. "Natalie.” It takes him less than a second to assume the same cool exterior he held last night. I can see the moment it clicks together for him, punctuated by another one of his trademark smirks. “Looks like we'll be working together."
Annoyance simmers beneath my skin, mingling with confusion and another unidentifiable emotion that clouds my thoughts. "I thought you were in the military," I blurt out suddenly, the words unintentionally tinged with accusation.
It's been eight years since I left town, and the Julian I remember was all about being in the service—so much so that he left me behind. And now here he is, standing before me in that garish vest, taunting me.
Julian's expression remains unfazed, those steely eyes giving nothing away. “I was in the military," he says, his voice steady, leaving a trail of unspoken words hanging between us. “And now I’m the project director.”
My irritation isn't easily quelled. If anything, I'm only more riled up by his patronizing response. My senses return to me, and I clear my throat before continuing. “Regardless, you shouldn't have started without a proper survey. We're supposed to work as a team, discuss the plan together. This is a listed building, Julian!" The words spill out in a rush, fueled by a professional zeal and a personal sense of betrayal. How typical of Julian to decide he knows best, and trample over everyone else in the process.
Julian's gaze meets mine, unwavering, as he closes what little distance there is between us. "The owner approved the scaffolding. It's not my fault nobody told you about the change of plans." His voice is calm, but firm, leaving little room for argument. “Besides, you’re just here for the interior.”
His obvious dismissal makes my blood boil. “And there might be structural problems inside that affect my work,” I spit through gritted teeth.
The revelation that the project is moving forward without my input stings. As much as I want to continue arguing, to fight for the respect and consideration the Langford Building deserves, I realize that directing my frustration at Julian won't change the situation.
All at once, I realize how close Julian and I have gotten. The space between us sizzles with the confrontation. I force myself to step back, both physically and mentally. "Alright," I concede, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "Let's make sure this doesn't happen again. We need to coordinate better, for the building's sake."
Julian nods, the briefest flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Agreed.”
Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I mutter, “Let's get to work then."
Stepping inside the Langford, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. The cool interior is a welcome respite, not just from the summer heat, but from the unexpected havoc Julian's presence has stirred in me.
I steal a glance back, watching as he bends to pick up a set of blueprints, the movement pulling his shirt taut across his back. Again, I'm confronted by how much he's changed from the boy I remember—lean muscle replacing youthful slimness, his skin a canvas of ink, with loose strands dark hair falling carelessly around his face.
As much as I loathe to admit it, Julian is unfairly sexy. And he knows it, too. A combination that makes me want to jump his bones and rip his head off at the same time.
It's been so long, so many years of trying to move on, and yet the truth nags at me: perhaps my feelings for Julian never truly faded. They just lay dormant, waiting for the right moment to awaken. But distractions, especially ones wrapped in tattoos and haunted by shared pasts, are the last thing I need.
I cannot get wrapped back up in Julian Rodriguez. Especially not now.
I shove those feelings down—way, way down, burying them under layers of professional resolve.
Shaking my head, I focus on the task at hand, pulling out my blueprints and starting the initial survey. The building whispers secrets of a bygone era, each crack and crevice a reminder of a storied past.
I lose myself in the work, the peace it brings, and the real matters at hand return to me. Pulling out my phone, I dial my boss, ready to discuss the change of plans and ensure we're still on track for my portion of the project.
The conversation is brief but productive, a plan forming amidst the chaos of unexpected starts and unsolicited scaffolding. As I end the call, my gaze drifts to the window, catching sight of Julian orchestrating his team with a quiet authority that's both new and familiar.
A small smile tugs at my lips, unbidden and unsettling in its ease. Julian Rodriguez, it seems, has changed in more ways than just the physical. Despite my best efforts to suppress every thought of him, professional or otherwise, I can't escape the undeniable pull he holds over me.
Whatever history lies between us, whatever baggage we’re both carrying, that pull is still there after all these years, and I can't expect it to lessen any time soon.
But for now, the Langford Building demands my attention. Hopefully, its opportunity for redemption can grant it a new beginning, and perhaps, I'll find my own in the process.
CHAPTER 3
JULIAN
When you run a construction company, there are a lot of expectedly unexpected things that come with the territory.
Running into Natalie Williams is not one of them. And two days in a row, for that matter.
As Natalie disappears into the cool shadows of the Langford, I can't help but linger on the sight of her departure. The sway of her hips, the casual flip of her hair—it's all too easy to get caught up in the familiar, yet entirely new, allure she carries.
The image of her face twisted in rage, only inches from mine, plays in my mind over and over again, bringing old memories back to the surface. And despite everything that's happened, I can't help but take a little pleasure in the idea that I can still get a rise out of her so easily.
But this distraction is a luxury I can't afford. Since taking the leap into starting my own construction company, every project, every decision counts. And I have more than just myself to think about. I’m doing this for my daughter, to make sure she has a good childhood and money in the bank when she’s grown. I want her to have a better life than I ever had.
