And maybe it was.That’s the thing about J.T.Lawrence.
He doesn’t rush.Doesn’t push.Doesn’t chase in the way most men do.
He just waits.Like a mountain sitting there while the rest of the world bustles around it.
Patient.Solid.Unmovable.
But underneath that patience?
There’s something else.
Something intense and razor sharp that makes my pulse trip every time I catch him looking at me.
Because when J.T.Lawrence decides he wants something, he gets it.
Period.
And right now?I’m starting to think he’s telling the truth when he says that something isme.
He picks up his coffee, drains the last swallow, and pushes to his feet.
The whole table seems smaller the second he stands.
Like gravity works differently around him.
And as he heads toward the door, I sit there staring at the empty space where he was and realize something that makes my pulse jump.
I invited him.
Not the other way around.
For the first time since his proposal, I don’t feel cornered.I feel like I just made a move.
My move.
And I think I like that.
Chapter4
J.T
I’m standing in front of my bedroom mirror like it’s a goddamn opponent.
Tie.Collar.Cuffs.
All of it feels… too tight.
Not physically—though, yes, physically too—but like the fabric itself is trying to remind me I’m stepping into something I can’t bulldoze with money and contracts.
I’ve negotiated with governors.Union heads.Men who smile while they stab you in the back.
I’ve walked into boardrooms with ten million dollars on the line and never blinked.
Tonight?
I’m going to a dinner with the Woodhaven Lumber Association like I do every year… and I’m hoping a woman who’s been living in survival mode will meet me there and let me talk.
Let me try.
