Uncut (Unexpected Book 4) Read Online Free Page A

Tristan asks when we step inside.
    “That’s up to you.” I press our floor and glance at him. My gaze lingers around his full lips a moment longer than it should. I can’t help myself. My eyes trail down his body and I immediately regret it. Tristan wearing a suit is fucking mind-blowing, but the low-cut jeans and tight shirt he’s wearing now are as tempting as the pinstripe suit he wore last Monday. I clear my throat to try to help reduce my lust-filled haze. “Joe’s the best, and he has a couple of teenaged kids. I like to compensate him for all he does.”
    “Like you did with the airplane crew?” his smooth voice questions. I press my lips together and nod at his question. “You surprise me sometimes. Many times you come off as a person who doesn’t give a shit about your surroundings, or others, but you do, don’t you? Who are you?”
    I look at the ceiling, looking for an answer. I have no fucking idea what it is that surprises him, but I wish I knew. Despite his detachment, I want to keep him interested. Then I move my attention to the control panel indicating we’re almost there. “Stick around to find out,” I say, and walk out of the elevator at the precise moment the doors open.

M y meeting at Thrice went well. The architect’s questions regarding the removable walls and electronic switchboards were answered by another team. They didn’t need me here for the meeting but it was worth going into the venue and assessing the progress. It made me realize that I have to fly more often than only once every three months if I want to keep the targeted schedule and budget. The construction company we hired is having internal problems; the materials they ordered are in backorder. There’s a freaking mess I have to sort out before I can head back to California. For the next week I have to stay and then plan my life according to this project. Avoiding Matthew Decker has been near impossible, but I’m determined to stay strong.
    I laugh as I glance to my left. After leaving Thrice, he convinced me to go for a hike with him. He said we would stay close by. We ended up driving more than an hour to a place called Dash Point in Tacoma. The place is mainly flat. Not the usual uphill trails I’m used to in California. The woodsy area is parallel to the beach. The unique mix of both environments and the sun setting on the west side make me take my phone out for a picture. It’s not every day I have the opportunity to witness the purple sky and the view of two different landscapes becoming one.
    “Do you do this often?” I catch up with Matthew who continues his way through the trail.
    “Yes. Anywhere I go I find a place where I can walk along with nature. It’s . . . calming.” He slows his pace and looks toward the horizon where the sun is covered by pink clouds as it hides behind the sea.
    Without giving it a second thought, he grabs my wrist and guides me to the beach side of the park. My knee-jerk reaction is to release my hand from his grasp. Holding hands with another man can be interpreted as “a gay thing.” What if someone saw us? But after a few breaths, I realize the warmth of his hand has released the tension I’ve carried since we arrived at the park.
    We come to a stop in the middle of the beach and he releases me. “Close your eyes,” he says with a raspy voice. “What do you feel?”
    I tilt my head in his direction waiting for a punchline, but I realize his eyes are closed.
    “The wind,” he responds. “Take a deep breath and close those eyes.”
    I do, and momentarily my body is releasing everything I carry. It's a refreshing sensation. It's peace. Only the sound of the crashing waves.
    “Look,” Matthew says, and I open my eyes to witness the last rays of sun.
    “This is perfection.” He points at the sunset. “Watching the ocean swallow the burning sun and promising that tomorrow will be another day.”
    “That’s different, I never took you for a poet.”
    “I’m a