Work had been hell. Colton had no desire to do either. What he’d wanted to do from the moment he’d left Lydia last night to the end of work today, was find her and drag her to his bedroom and explain to her—with his hands—exactly what they should be doing during this little enforced relationship. But he hadn’t done that. He’d been respectful of her space and responsible with his time. Which really was terrible. What he’d actually wanted to do was storm off the job site, stalk straight downtown to her little office, slam the door and bend her over her desk so she could get a good look at the ocean view while he screwed them both into oblivion. But he hadn’t done that. Because of respect. Of space and time and blah blah—he hated all of it now. There had been a lot opportunities for resentment to burn inside of him. When he’d been forced to get a business degree in college—never even being given a chance to think about if he wanted to do something else—because he would need it for the inevitable someday when he would be put in charge of a ranch he didn’t want to operate.
