“Sometimes I wonder how we’re even related.” She pulled her hair off her face again and her wet shirt clung to her. He let his gaze wander for a split second, and he cursed himself for checking her out again. She was freezing, and he was ogling.
“Come on, I’ll show you where everything is for a shower and you can get warmed up.” She followed him down the empty hall toward the guest bedroom. “There’s only one extra bedroom in here. I had the other made into a home gym. So you’ll be sharing with Danielle.” He stopped abruptly when he realized she wasn’t following him. She was standing in the center of the room, staring out at the view.
“This is gorgeous, Ethan,” she said. The breathlessness in her voice made him stop and appreciate what she was looking at. The Toronto skyline was something he’d seen for the last ten years. He woke to it, went to sleep to it, drank to it, but rarely did he take the time to stop and admire it, or anything really— other than Allie.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared out with her. Snow was falling in a soft, slow pattern. It was a gray day. Not one he’d think twice about. Certainly nothing he’d stop and admire. She turned around after a minute, shot him a smile, and then walked toward him. “Sorry. I know you need to get back to work. Point me in the right direction and then you can get going.”
He glanced at his watch. Yeah, he needed to get back—not that he wanted to. He had a meeting this morning with his brother. They weren’t in business together and he didn’t trust him, but Ethan couldn’t say no. Even though he’d wanted nothing to do with the family business, he was still invested personally. He’d wanted to strike out on his own—and had, with Jackson—to prove that he could. From a young age he’d learned that in order to gain his father’s respect he needed to prove himself. Prove that he was a survivor. They’d written him off years ago, but he was still here. He and his brother had an ongoing competition—started and encouraged basically from birth. He had lost repeatedly to his brother during one year of his life. He had vowed that would never happen again.
He nudged his chin in the right direction and led the way. He pointed toward the kitchen. “Help yourselves to anything.” He paused while Allie slowed in the doorway, then he pointed down the hall that led to his office and gym. “The only place that’s off-limits is my office.” He realized that sounded a little Fifty Shades and continued. “I just don’t want your sister messing things up in there.”
Allie gave him a look that made him think she knew he wasn’t being entirely honest, and she’d be right. But he had private things, and since he hadn’t been expecting houseguests, he hadn’t had the time to…rearrange some items. There were certain things about himself that he didn’t share with anyone. There were parts of his past that only his family knew about, and even then he wished they didn’t.
He opened the door to the immaculate spare room and en-suite. It would be the first time this place was ever used.
“Oh, this is gorgeous. It’s like we’re staying at a five-star hotel. I totally owe you for this, Ethan. I’m coming off a horrid week—”
“What happened? I mean, besides your building burning.”
She rubbed her eyes. “Haven House is closing.”
“What? They can’t close a shelter.”
Allie sat down on the edge of the bed. “Apparently they can. It’s a mess. We haven’t told anyone yet.”
“Maybe there’s something I can do.”
Her eyes locked onto his, and his gut tightened at the light in her eyes. It was almost like admiration or hope. Either way he was screwed.
“I don’t know what you’d be able to do. I don’t have all the details, but I can get them and let you know. All I know is that the landlord is selling the building, and it’s totally within his rights to do that. And what new buyer would want to leave it as a shelter? It’s in a prime location, and we’re guessing it would be rezoned for a condo. That’s all we know. I hate to ask for anything, I mean in one day I’ve asked you for a place to live and now—”
“You’ve never asked me for anything.” He was well aware of the fact that she was the only woman in his life who never asked for a thing. He knew her pride, her determination to make it on her own, and he admired her a hell of a lot for it. Allie didn’t give a shit about material things and appearances like the people in his circles. Like his family. She cared about things beyond the superficial, and a part of him wanted in on that, on that bigger picture crap that went beyond what his acquaintances were absorbed with. He wanted in on Allie.
He took a step closer to her, noting the way the pulse at the base of her throat quickened, liking that it did. He would have liked even more to pull her into him, feel her, taste her, and then keep her safe, and hell if that wasn’t a first for him.
“I should probably get into the shower and start my day. I don’t want to keep you, either.” She took a step back and stumbled on to the bed. He had to force his gaze off her. He could think of a few good ways to start the day, and for once none of them had to do with the office.
He adjusted his tie, the feeling that his life had just become a hell of a lot more complicated jostling him. Time to go. “I’ll find out about the shelter. I’ll do whatever I can to keep it open.”
“If we win the bid, we plan on closing the shelter and putting up a condo.”
Ethan schooled his features, not giving anything away, as he stared across his desk at his brother. “What shelter?”
His brother rolled his dull eyes. “Haven House or something like that.”
Shit. He picked up his pen and twirled it through his fingers casually, resisting the urge to stab it repeatedly into his desk. He leaned back in his chair and tried to not think of the conversation he’d just had with Allie in which he promised to find a way to keep the shelter open. And here he was less than an hour later sitting in a meeting with his brother discussing the demolition of the shelter she poured her heart and soul into.
“Why would you close the shelter?” He knew it was a stupid question, but he was trying to get his brother to talk and reveal anything that might be useful to him.
Carson scowled. That scowl was probably the only similarity the two of them shared, passed down from a long line of scowling Dane men. “It’s a prime piece of real estate. The landlord wants out. It would be the perfect corner for the condo project.”
“Right. The city really needs another condo.”
“I get you’re not into real estate, but I think you must still have some business sense if you run this company. Okay, so you and Jason—”
“Jackson—”
“Whatever, you’re tech guys. You won’t know what or even how to come up with a real estate proposal, so you should probably bow out of this before you embarrass yourself. Since when have you cared about the family business?”
He didn’t care about the Dane building empire, not one bit—from a financial perspective. What he and Jackson had built was more than enough, but he did care about the family business on a very personal level. He’d never let on, but it was there, in his gut, in the back of his mind, always. He’d been pushed out, and that wasn’t something that had ever sat well with him. He didn’t like being dismissed by anyone.