“Yes, thanks.”

They exchanged good-byes and she headed back to her restaurant to wait.

Dalton got the text just as he was climbing into his truck. He read it three times, then once more to be sure.

Raven had gone to Cal about her bar?

Pure male temper flooded his system. He punched in the numbers and heard his brother’s clipped voice come over the line. “Thought that would get your attention. What the hell did you do to her? Oh, you’re on speaker. Tristan’s here.”

Great. His brothers were about to witness his humiliation as a tag team. And no one did it better than his siblings. Tristan’s smooth, cultured voice rose in his ears. Dalton pictured him elegantly perched in the chair, suit and tie pressed to perfection. “Talk about crash and burn, bro. Has a woman ever rejected you? Losing your mojo in your older age?”

Muttering a foul curse, Dalton barked at the phone. “Can we save the witty banter for later, dude? I need to know exactly what she said to Cal.”

“Said she needed the bar redone with matching stools, and she wants it within three weeks. I told her you were the one she needed to talk to.”

“And?”

Amusement laced his voice. “And she said she preferred to deal with me. Did you come on too strong and scare her off? I know you’ve been begging to do her bar for a while.”

Had he? Hell no. That woman shut down men with pure glee and seemed to savor every moment. For some reason, she was afraid to deal with him directly. That told him one thing.

She wanted him. She just didn’t want to want him.

Dalton knew every hidden aspect of the mating game, and she was playing to its potential. By asking his brother, she had issued him both an insult and a challenge. His temper settled while he analyzed the best way to approach the situation. “Nah, it’s not about that at all. It’s hard for a woman to admit she wants someone that doesn’t check all her boxes. She’s just in denial. I’ll take care of it.”

A short silence came over the line. “Not if it involves a lawsuit, dude. Maybe you should let this one go,” Tristan advised.

“Don’t let your ego get you into any more trouble. You have enough jobs to keep you busy,” Cal said.

“I’d never do anything to jeopardize Pierce Brothers. There must be a good reason she wants the restaurant redone so fast, and I intend to find out. Either way, the job will be good for the company. Plenty of exposure.”

“What are you gonna do?” Cal asked.

Dalton tightened his lips. “What I do best.”

“Seduce her until she’s smitten, then break up with her?” Tristan piped up.

“No, asshat. Get the job and the girl. Then we both win.”

Cal sighed over the line. “Famous last words.”

Dalton hung up on his brothers and started the ignition. Satisfaction hit as he imagined Raven waiting for him to contact her. Though he was tempted to drive over right now for their meeting, he knew it was best to let the tension build. Linger. Settle.

It always made the surrender so much sweeter.

Raven waited the rest of the day, but Dalton never contacted her.

Dammit, she was running out of time and needed an answer today. Maybe she’d made a big mistake going to Cal first. Dalton was probably insulted. Would he refuse the job out of spite? Well, that would prove what type of man he really was, right? She didn’t need him or Pierce Brothers. She’d find someone else, and maybe the work wouldn’t be as pristine but it would do.

She finished closing up and heard a tap at the door.

Ignoring her wild heartbeat, she called out, “Who is it?”

“Dalton Pierce.”

His rich, smoky voice rolled out his name with deliberate precision, as if to remind her who he was. Like she needed a reminder. Bracing herself, she unlocked the door and stepped aside.

He walked in.

No, more like swaggered. The delicious roll of his hips and his staggering height gave her the impression of confidence without arrogance, sexual assertiveness without aggression, grace without delicacy. He smelled of lemon and varnish and a smoky type of wood that reminded her of tangled sheets and musky sex. His jeans were ripped at the knees, his work boots scarred, and his shirt dirty. That glorious hair was pulled back from his face, emphasizing his carved features.

She tried hard not to drool or look affected as she locked the door again behind them and turned to face him.

“Thanks for finally showing up.”

His brow lifted. His hip cocked out, and she tried not to lower her gaze to admire the way the denim stretched to accommodate him. “Didn’t know we had an appointment.”

“Cal said you’d be over this afternoon.”

“Cal’s not my keeper,” he said mildly. “In fact, Cal only runs one third of the business. He builds the houses. Do you need a house built?”

Oh, he was here to torture her. No anger marred his face or leaked through his voice. That would’ve been easier to deal with. Instead, he intended to toy with her until he made his point. She thought about the prestigious magazine article that could take her restaurant to the next level, gritted her teeth, and decided to play the game. “No.”

“Ah. Wait, maybe you needed Tristan? Do you need to sell a house or redesign one? Flip one?”

If she weren’t so pissed, she could’ve laughed. This man was a master at the game. “No.”

“Then what do you want, Raven?”

“I think you know already. I apologize if I made some type of error asking the wrong person, but all I need right now is a yes or no. Do you want the job or not?”

It was her best play, but damned if he didn’t smile real slow and sexy. “Not going to be that easy, darlin’. You took the time to explain everything to Cal, so now I’ll need you to repeat the specifics of the job and exactly what you need. It would also be nice to know why you refused to ask me.”

She tried not to squirm under his hot stare. Her tummy was doing that weird flip thing that made her a bit light-headed. How did a simple conversation with him turn into a feast of verbal foreplay? “I thought it would be better to keep it simple,” she clipped out. “You’ve made it well known you’re interested in more than my bar.”

His eyes darkened. “I am. But when I take a job on, I don’t disrespect the client or my company. When I work at your place, there’s a trust between us I refuse to break. I give you my word, I won’t lay a hand on you or make any advances that would make you uncomfortable.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over her face. “Unless you ask nicely, of course.”