Ulterior Designs (House of Evans Book 1) (11 page)

She finished what she was doing, retyped her letter of resignation, and laid it on her manager's desk. As for the coffee shop, she would stay employed there as a safeguard but cut back her hours, because if there was one thing her parents had taught her, it was to never put all her eggs in one basket.

The extra hours away from serving caffeine-addicted yuppies would be spent planning out the ambitious project she was about to undertake.

Project: House of Evans.

W
hen Chloe's phone rang the following morning, the sounds of the ferry and people around her nearly drowned out Logan's voice.

"Where are you?"

"Almost to Napa. I'm on the ferry. I should be there in about ten minutes—another twenty to thirty to walk to your place, so give me around forty-five minutes."

"Wait, what?" The tone of his voice oozed disbelief.

"What,
what
?"

"You don't have a car?"

"Yes, but it gets temperamental on road trips, even short ones. Anyway, the ferry is cheaper than gas."

"You've been riding the ferry all this time and walking to my place from town?"

What he said next was indecipherable, but it sounded a lot like an obscenity or two.

"I'll pick you up at the station. I'll be longer than ten minutes, so wait for me."

"It's fine, really. I can walk …" Her statement was cut short by Logan disconnecting the call.

It really wasn't a big deal. His home sat on the edge of a large acreage which was only ten minutes from town by car and twenty-five by foot. Each time she had walked the distance, she had worn a pair of running shoes that she later tucked into her bag in exchange for heels. The weather was beautiful, and with her busy schedule, the ferry ride gave her an extra few minutes to go over notes. Not to mention, the walk was a great way to get in some cardio.

Right on time, her boat pulled up to the pier, but her handsome architect was nowhere to be seen. Seated at a long bench overlooking the water, she dug out her pumps and slipped them on. It was Saturday, and though most people would be enjoying their weekend away from work, she was looking forward to starting her new job as soon as possible. With her first real workday beginning, her excitement and nerves were out of control, and her imagination was on maximum overdrive. She had gotten a terrible night's sleep because of it.

As she tried to formulate a coherent thought, everything she had learned in school seemed to fly right out of her head. Digging into her messenger bag, she brought out some of the ideas on furniture she had printed out and quickly browsed them in hopes that they would spark her memory. Next, she closed her eyes and pictured Logan's blue eyes and tried to recall the sound of his voice. It was just the
spark
she needed.

The night before, she had decided that tackling his bedroom would be her first mission. He needed a comfortable place to rest in order to feel refreshed for work, after all. After that, his kitchen, so that he could at least prepare a decent meal and eat in comfort. The living area would be next, then the office, and finally, his spare room.
Or, should she do the spare room before his office?
No. He needed a place to work.

She couldn't make up her mind and decided it was best to get Logan’s opinion, and not to get too far ahead of herself.

Retrieving an art pad from her bag, she sketched the layout of the bedroom, along with some decorative touches she wanted to add.

Her brain was buzzing with ideas when the trusses in the home suddenly popped into her head. They were magnificent and sturdy, and could easily hold two light fixtures. But, not any ordinary light fixtures would do. They needed to be custom chandeliers. Not sure what her budget was for his home, she couldn't go any further in her planning, and jotted down a list of questions to ask Logan when she saw him.

Before she realized it, she had been waiting almost thirty minutes. She could've already arrived at Logan's place and gotten started. Deciding that waiting was a frivolous waste of time, she slipped back into her running shoes, slung the strap of her bag across her body and started the trek to his place.

Napa was beautiful in the spring, as was San Francisco. With the smell of flowers in bloom and rain on the horizon, she loved California in a way that gave her butterflies in her belly. She loved it so much that she couldn't imagine living anywhere else. She had originally only planned on going to school in California and moving back to Ann Arbor after graduation; however, after several years of living the sunny life, enduring another frigid Michigan winter was out of the question. Her parents weren't thrilled about her decision to stay, but they conceded that it was ultimately her life.

Her brisk walk slowed near a small bakery shop. The enticing smell made her peek into the window where she spied a freshly baked stack of bear claws. Unable to resist, she went in and bought every one they had. It was a little overkill, but what the hell? She had some money for a change, and what better way to celebrate a new job than by binging on pastries?

She inhaled, and the sweet scent brought the image of her dad's smile to her mind. He loved bear claws. She left the bakery thinking about how much she missed spending time with him and doing the various crafty activities he always seemed to have planned for them.

Like her dad, she was good with her hands. Together, they had created one-of-a kind pieces of décor and restored some of the most beautiful furniture. Her grandfather had been a carpenter by trade and had shared his skills with her father, who in turn, had shared them with her. For the gift of creativity and eye for detail he had given her, she would be forever grateful. The skills her father had taught her had managed to sustain her money-wise in college when her parents couldn't. Selling her one-of-a-kind pieces in addition to working, had kept her afloat financially. Some months, those items had paid for electricity and food.

Her mom—well, Chloe had a lot to thank her for, too, even if she couldn't think of anything right off hand.

She took it back. She could think of something—something so very important, she felt terrible for arrogantly presuming there was nothing to be thankful for. Her mother had taught her the art of sewing from a young age. Without that vital skill, Chloe would be lost. Sure, she could've learned it from someone else, but when she thought about her mother's patience and kindness when guiding her small hands, she knew it wouldn't have been the same.

She hadn't spoken to either of her parents in at least a month, and it was a sad testament to living such a long distance from them. She hadn't even had the nerve to call and tell them about getting canned from Indulgent Designs for fear of hearing their disappointment. The only other person she had told besides Logan was her younger brother, Ryan. He had offered to fly the twenty-four hundred miles and kick Dimitry's ass. The oldest of three siblings, she had always felt it necessary to lead by example, and so, as tempting as the idea was to see the smug look wiped off D Mo's face, she declined her brother's offer.

Leading by example was why she had worked hard to get a scholarship and maintained good grades so that she could graduate at the top of her class. It was cliché, sure, but there was something to be said about hard work—and that was an idea both of her parents had instilled into her. She wanted to show her less-than-academically-motivated siblings that by busting their asses, they could get what they wanted out of life.

Well, not so much Ryan as her youngest brother, Tyson. He seemed content to not lift a finger and let the world cater to his every need and whim as if he was royalty. And her parents were doing a good job of allowing him to act that way. It hadn't been that way for her, though. They had definitely gotten soft in their old age. She had been raised with much stricter rules than her brothers, that's for sure.

Strict
.

She smiled when she recalled Logan's declaration of liking strict protocol followed. Though, for all his talk about being a task master, he seemed fairly mellow and level-headed.
And sexy as hell.

Suppressing thoughts of how he had rejected her attempt at kissing him and the lame scene that had played out in the break room, she pushed her chin out and picked up her pace. It was a new day, and with it, a whole new adventure lay ahead.

*

With his hair still wet from his shower, Logan drove the short distance to town to pick up Chloe. As much as he hated being late, it couldn't be helped. He had worked out in his make shift gym in his laundry room, and he didn't think she would appreciate seeing or smelling him post leg-day.

Still irritated with himself for not noticing that she hadn't driven herself to his place and that she had been taking the ferry, he drove in silence when normally he would've had music playing. He had assumed that she had parked her car at the end of his long driveway. If he had known, he would have made travel accommodations available for her. Or better yet, he would've transported her himself.

At the edge of town, his eyes zoomed in on Chloe's figure. With the light breeze blowing her dark hair all around her shoulders and the afternoon sun shining brightly on her face, she was hard to miss. Pulling up alongside of her, he put his car into park and got out to help her with her attaché case.

"You do have trouble following simple requests, don't you,
Minou
?" he grumbled, glaring down at her as he slipped the strap of her bag over her head and off her body.

She gave him an impish smile and shook her head. "Sorry, but I couldn't wait to get started."
When she put it like that, how could he be angry?
"And the weather—it's so beautiful today. I could smell the wineries for blocks."

"That is a great smell, isn't it?"

After putting her bag into the back seat of his car, he opened the wide door for her. When she seated herself, she turned to face him, her smile still reaching from ear to ear. "I don't know how you can resist drinking wine every single day with that aroma all around you."

'"I don't resist, Chloe," he murmured and leaned down into the open car door to strap her seatbelt on. When he felt the click of the buckle, he stood and stared down at the large Kraft bag in her lap that smelled of baked goods. "Been doing a little shopping?"

"When it comes to bear claws—
I
don't resist."

Striding quickly around to the driver's side, he climbed into the car. "Then, wine and bear claws it is."

"It's a strange combination, but I'm all for culinary
experimentation,
" she stressed the word as he swung the car around to head back home. "Along with other things."

How was it that Chloe always seemed to know the right thing to say to get his blood pounding in his veins? He slowed the car to give her a sideways glance, and the look and smile she was throwing his way were nothing short of tempting. She was doing her best to flirt with him, and though her efforts were valiant, it was obvious to him that she was out of her element and comfort zone from the rosy hue of her cheeks and the questioning look in her eyes that begged for approval.

She had already admitted to never being spanked before, which was surprising. Not so much in that it had never happened to her as a child, but as an adult who claimed to be
far from virginal.
He had always been under the impression that
a playful spanking and hair-pulling was pretty much standard fare when it came to sex. Maybe he’d been wrong.

He simply smiled back without saying anything. What was he supposed to say? Something witty, he supposed, though he couldn't think of anything right off hand. He was too busy thinking of a way to explain to her that as much he wanted to be with her, he didn't want to
be with her.

Oh, hell, why ruin her good mood?
That little discussion could wait for another day.

****

Seated at his dining room table surrounded by the food of the gods—a beautiful woman, baked goods, wine, and design plans—Logan felt peaceful. It was odd considering the disorganization amidst his house. Chloe was talking a mile-a-minute about her ideas and her energy was invigorating. As was her scent. Surely she was wearing perfume.
Or, was she
? He thought she had been wearing something the previous day and found out otherwise. Most likely, it was the intermingled scent of her clean femininity and bear claws that aroused him so much.

When Chloe reached into her bag to retrieve a pad and pencil, he offered to queue some music for her. A good tune always helped him to think clearer and never failed to get his creative juices flowing; he thought it might help her in the same fashion.

Taking him up on his offer, she reached for her phone, pulled up a playlist and handed it over to him. He wasn't familiar with the majority of the songs, but it made no difference when he saw the effect it had on her. When a song titled
Adventure of a Lifetime
began, it had precisely the effect on her as he expected.

As Chloe began drawing and sketching wildly, he moved behind her to watch her thoughts take form on the page.

Damn, if she wasn’t talent and beauty personified.

Her ideas were concise and on point, and everything she put on that page jumped out at him. He had been right about her: she saw in his home what he did. He wondered, though, did she see in herself what he saw? He would just have to show her what it was that he saw.