Ulterior Designs (House of Evans Book 1) (34 page)

In step with Logan, he seemed to be in his element, greeting everyone with a friendly smile but keeping things professional and to the point. Her eyes didn’t know where to settle. With the nervous jitters threatening to overtake her, she took a deep breath and adjusted her smile. When Logan suddenly broke from her to mingle elsewhere, her hands clenched at her sides as she debated whether or not to follow. When she lost sight of him, she was left with no other choice but to
network.
Another deep breath in, followed by a slow exhale, and her anxiousness vanished.

Approaching the bar, Chloe recognized a man from Baker & Macy, but didn’t recall his name as she had never spoken more than a few sentences to him. When he turned and caught sight of her, he cocked his hip to one side and leaned arrogantly on the mahogany frame of the bar.

“Well, don’t you look absolutely divine,” he declared, his voice oozing sexual overtones.

The quick flick of his eyes over her body immediately put her on high-alert. His abrupt movement toward her unbalanced her, and she took a step back.

“Do we know each other? I never forget a face, especially one like yours.” His words slithered over her flesh like a snake.

“Maybe. I worked briefly for Baker & Macy,” she answered as her eyes darted around to seek out Logan.

“Ah, yes. I remember you now. So then what are you doing here?”

“I’m here with …,” she hesitated. She had no idea how to respond as she didn’t know exactly what Logan was to her. However, she supposed he didn’t particularly need a title or designation in this situation. “Logan Evans,” she finally answered.

The man’s demeanor immediately shifted. Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he rocked back on his heels and gave her a lewd smile.

“He’s a good man,” he stated as if repeating a well-practiced lie.

Her eyes unintentionally zoomed in on his graying fluffy brows, causing her to inadvertently smile. They reminded her of caterpillars marching across his forehead. As if that wasn’t enough to make her want to laugh out loud, his smile resembled the Cheshshire Cat’s. All they needed now was the white rabbit and a potion bottle to complete the scene.

Logan’s long, limb swagger striding toward her from the across the room caught her attention. Relieved to see him, she smiled up at him, only to have him give her a stony stare.

“Your friend is quite charming,” the man said to Logan before turning his attention back to her. “What did you say your name was, dear?”

“I didn’t,” she remarked flatly.

In an unusual display of public affection, he dragged her away from the man at the bar, spun her around to face him and clutched her in an embrace.

He stared at her with cobalt eyes slightly slanted at the corners. “What do you think you’re doing?” he whispered.

“Networking,” she tried to joke.

Logan’s hand crept up and with a finger, he tipped her head back. “Fuck networking. You’re here to be with me. And why the hell were you smiling at that asshole?”

“I was just being polite …” she began.

“Fuck being polite. That guy is nothing but a lying, back-stabbing piece of shit.”

A shudder ran along Chloe’s nerve endings at the staunch look in Logan’s eyes.

“That smile belongs to me,
Minou
.”

She nodded in agreement, because it did. And so did her heart, whether she wanted it to or not. Wanting to ease the apparent frustration her lover was feeling, she reached a hand between them to drag her thumb across his bottom lip in a shameless display of lust for all to see.

“My smile isn’t the only thing that belongs to you,” she countered before she could stop herself.

A dark frown settled on his brooding features. “Why do you have to say things like that? I want this to work between us, but you can’t say shit like that to me.”

Chloe’s joy was gone in a flash, as was always the case with Logan Evans. He could turn her on, tug at her heart, and make her want to rage in a minute-and-a-half flat. That
shit,
as Logan called it, was her heart on a platter. Seemingly aware that he had spoken harshly, he forced a smile.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look? Or thanked you for coming with me?”

She merely nodded.

“Rumor has it that you’re name is going to be on the Baker & Macy marquee soon,” a female voice was heard over Chloe’s shoulder. Turning, she came face to face with a gorgeous, auburn-haired woman dressed in the proverbial tiny black dress. She looked to be around Logan’s age, and by all accounts, a professional of some type.

Chloe’s eyes darted between Logan and the woman, as his face emptied of all expression.

“I’m Jess,” she thrust a hand in Chloe’s direction, “one of Logan’s former colleagues.”

“I’m Chloe,” she introduced herself with a handshake. “Logan’s interior decorator.”

The woman’s gaze followed the lines of Chloe’s body, making her heat under her scrutinizing gaze.

“How lovely,” she answered, with condescension lacing her voice.

When she heard Logan sigh with disapproval, she peeked over her shoulder at him. Confused by his awkward reaction and his lack of emotion otherwise, she turned back to Jess.

“I’m a Level One architect.” Her stance shifted from foot to foot before addressing Logan again. “So then, you’re done renovating your home?”

Again, silence. Logan reached for her hand and tugged as if to draw her away, but Chloe spoke up for him. “The renovation is complete. It just needs finishing design touches.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

Chloe’s body stiffened. She knew this question would come eventually and that she would have to admit her lack of experience, but she just wasn’t prepared for it. Nor was she prepared for the disdain staring back at her.

“Not long,” she answered without really answering—something she had learned from Logan.

“I would imagine. You can’t be more than,
what?
Twenty?”

“I have a Bachelor’s in interior design, so you’re off by a few digits,” Chloe answered civilly but with a sharp tongue.

“Let’s get seated before the ceremony starts,” Logan murmured and tugged her hand harder.

Glad to be away from the snarky bitch known as Jess, Chloe sat next to Logan and listened for nearly an hour as names and nominations were handed out. When Logan and his team members stood to acknowledge their nomination and address the crowd with smiles and thank you’s, Chloe had never felt so proud of someone—even if the person she was proud of wanted to re-evaluate their situation on an as-needed basis.

 

*

 

After the nominations came down and everyone awaited their meals, Logan turned his attention to Chloe. He absently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She really did look amazing. But damn if she wasn’t pushing his buttons. Of course, it wasn’t intentional on her part and he knew that. McDaniels had been eyeing her from the moment he dragged her away and Logan swore if that man called her
dear
one more time, that asshole would be nursing more than a fat lip like before. This time around he’d be plucking his balls out of his asshole from having had them firmly kicked there.

Chloe excused herself to visit the restroom and left her seat. Logan watched her walk across the ballroom, noting the attention she garnered from all the male eyes she passed on the way. Yeah, he was damned lucky.

After chatting with his one of his other colleagues seated nearby, Logan turned in his chair in response to Chloe’s presence next to him. In an instant, his smile vanished.

Jess had slipped into Chloe’s chair and was staring back at him with the same expression on her face she’d worn on the night they’d parted. All hazel eyes and red, pouty lips, she looked just as good as she had when she’d crushed his heart. Turning away from her without so much as an acknowledgement, he heard her begin a one-sided conversation.

“I remember when you used to look at me the way you look at Chloe—like you’re in love; like nothing will ever come between you two.”

Logan’s nerves prickled. He
wasn’t
in love. Deep
like
, sure—but definitely
not
love
.
As usual, Jess was talking out of her ass. Perhaps she and McDaniels really were made for each other.

"It's been almost two years. When are you going to talk to me?"

Unresponsive, he pretended to be listening in on a conversation about sustainability going on next to him.

"People make mistakes," she continued.

Logan seethed. Of course people made mistakes. She wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t common fucking sense. He’d been making them with Chloe on practically a daily basis.

"I was drunk," she plunged on.

All four times?
he thought to himself, as he faced her and huffed with anger. One look at the expression on his face, and she snapped her mouth closed. As well she should, unless she wanted to be reminded how shitty her oral abilities had been, and yet he had never cheated on her.

"Will you please say something to me?"

If she wanted him to speak, then he would, but only this once. "You’re in Chloe’s chair,” he growled as Chloe approached.

“You cold-hearted bastard, now I remember why I fucked around on you. Good luck trying to keep
that
one,” she nodded toward Chloe.

With Chloe in close proximity, Logan suddenly felt suffocated. She was so damned gorgeous. And Jess was right. How long could he keep a woman with Chloe’s talent and beauty happy when he could barely acknowledge their relationship?

Seating herself quietly next him, Chloe kept her eyes riveted on him, as if sensing his impending emotional and physical withdrawal. But Logan knew that for Chloe to stay quiet and not ask questions wasn’t in the scope of her personality.

"She's more than just a former colleague, isn't she?"

When her question finally came, he almost laughed out loud.

He feigned ignorance. "Who?"

"Jess. What is she to you?"

There was no point in trying to deny anything, especially since Chloe had seen Jess’s abrupt departure. "She’s not anything.”

“Logan, please. You said you wouldn’t lie to me again.”

Guilted into an admission, he confessed. “We dated."

"Can you elaborate, please?"

Chloe and her damned
elaborations.
"What's there to elaborate on? We dated. We broke up. The end,” he barked.

"There was more going on than that. I'm may be naïve, but I do know heartbreak when I see it. Believe it or not, I've actually experienced it," she said with a nervous lick of her lips.

Logan’s eyes zoomed in on the look of upset on her face. "You never told me that."

"I haven't told you a lot of things. You never ask. You just assume. And when I try to ask, you change the subject or push me away."

Doing exactly what she’d just claimed, he sniped, "She didn't break my heart.”

"Then,
what
?"

Christ, the questions and accusations were never-ending. First Jess claiming that he loved Chloe, and now Chloe calling him out about Jess. "She fucking pulverized it, okay? It wasn't a clean breakup,
okay
?"

"Okay," she whispered. "But, is there really such a thing as a clean break up?"

Unable to smile at her naivety, he glanced at her and slipped his hand under the table to take hers into his. "I've heard there is," he softened his tone when he saw the look of innocence and sincerity on her face.

She lowered her voice to a confidential murmur. "But you've never experienced it?"

Tired of the subject matter and just wanting to feel her arms wrapped around him, he shook his head. "I'd rather talk about something else."

"I'd rather we didn't." Stubborn words spoken sweetly seemed to the living contradiction that was Chloe Trinity Stephens.

"That wasn't a request. Just dance with me."

Chapter Thirty-Five: That Guy

 

C
hloe could still feel Logan’s strong embrace surrounding her when they had glided across the dance floor an hour ago. Now, staring at him as he kept his eyes on the road, she couldn’t help but notice his withdrawal. Helpless to do anything but place her hand on his, she remained silent for the duration of the drive. Closing her eyes for what she thought was only a moment, she woke to find them pulling in Logan’s driveway.

Silence hung heavily in the air as they walked into the House of Evans. The smell of leather and aftershave immediately gave Chloe the feeling of being at home.

Suddenly swept up into Logan’s arms, she leaned close at he carried her up his stairs.

What followed was bittersweet love making. Or fucking. Or whatever Logan wanted to call it. It made no difference so long as he was there doing this thing to her and giving her body and mind what it craved—total domination.

As if taking out his frustration on her, his gentle thrusts became brutal, only to slow and become tender again. He was internally struggling, and it showed through his physical interaction with her. Doing everything he commanded, she hoped to somehow ease his agitation. When he stilled, climaxed and rolled off her, she didn’t even ask for reciprocation. Nor did she expect it.

Chloe woke several hours later to the sound of sharp harsh notes on the piano. Fast and tinny, the sound only got louder and worse. Throwing one of Logan’s t-shirts over her head, she went to the landing to stare down at him. He seemed to be angrily searching his memory for some song as he started it over and over, only to stop and pound his hands on the keys. Time and time again, the song began, only to end midway through. When he began to curse under his breath, Chloe went to him.

“I can’t get this damned song out of my head, but I can’t remember the notes. I can remember every fucking thing else that has ever happened to me, every other piece of music, but not
this one.
I can’t even remember the fucking name of it,” he suddenly belted out, startling her.

Realizing he had made her jump, he stared up apologetically at her as she stood near the piano.

“I’m sorry, Minou. I’m not very good company right now,” he said softly as his shoulders slumped.

“I don’t mind, but if you want me to go …”

“I had another dream about you,” he interrupted her.

“A good one?” she asked, as she smiled and reached out to him.

“No,” he grumbled, pushing her hand away and spinning back around. With his fingers on the keyboard once again, he began the same song, only to achieve the same results. When he tried one more time, Chloe forced her way between him and piano.

“It’ll come to you if you just give it time, Logan.”

He stared up at her, his gaze flicking over her face angrily as if she had somehow done or said something bad to him.

“What did you dream about me?” she dared to ask.

“You cheated on me,” he answered through gritted teeth.

Feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her, her lips parted. She’d had those kinds of dreams, and knew how devastated they had left her feeling. “I would never do that.
Never.

“You say that now, but people change. Circumstances change. And in the blink of an eye,
everything
changes.”

“I’m not
people,
Logan. I’m the woman standing before you offering myself. Making you a promise that …” she had no sooner said the word
promise
when Logan bolted upright with such ferocity that he sent his bench tumbling behind him.

“Don’t you dare make me a promise that you’re incapable of keeping.”

Frozen at the look of horror on Logan’s face, she could only stare up at him, pleading with her eyes.

“I only make promises when I intend to keep them,” she whispered, as tears bordered her lashes.

“You say that now,” he repeated with even more disdain than before.

When she reached for him again, he backed away, only to tug her against his chest. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she buried her face in his chest and inhaled his scent. But just as abruptly as the tender moment had begun, it was over. Gripping her by her shoulders, he firmly pushed against her to distance himself.

“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve put you through. It has nothing to do with you, and yet
everything.

A sob began to well inside of Chloe at the look of determination in Logan’s eyes. Shielding herself from the storm that was about to hit, she wrapped her arms around herself and prepared herself the best she could.

“I thought I could be
that guy
for you, Chloe—the one who could give you
more.
I really wanted to be
that guy
for you. For a split second, I thought I could be, but it’s never going to happen, and there’s no point in pretending this thing between us is ever going to last.”

One tear trickled down her cheek, followed another, then another. Gentle fingers wiped them away, only to make them come faster.

“You deserve
more,
Minou.”

Yes, she did deserve
more
, she knew that, but it made no difference. She wanted Logan, even if it meant
less.

Forcing herself to meet his gaze, she made one last request."Dance with me."

With pinched brows, he shook his head. "I'm really not up for it."

On tiptoes, she pressed her body against his to whisper into his ear, "That wasn't a request."

Resigned, Logan took her into his arms and in silence they danced for the last time.

A sudden look of realization flashed in his eyes. “Solfeggietto in C minor,” he whispered, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

Always one to try and lighten the mood, he weakly smiled down at her. “We still have a few more weeks together. Let’s just make the best of it. Plus, there’s still my bungalow and patio for you to design.”

His eyes shined with hopefulness, but her reserve of hope was gone.

She pulled out of his grip and took several steps back to put distance between them. She might as well start now so that in the end, it wouldn’t be as far. "No, Logan. After I'm done with your home, I’m done working for you. You'll have to find another decorator to work on your other projects."

"I don't want someone else. I mean… another decorator."

A mixture of confusion and panic flashed in his eyes.
Would this man never make up his mind about what he wanted?
When it came to her, no—he wouldn’t. And it was time for her to do as she’d been told.

“You'll just have to work that out on your own."

 

*

 

The only thing Logan could work out on his own was how badly he’d hurt Chloe. She had cried, something he had never seen her do. And he had been the reason for it. There was no going back; he knew that. When he’d woken from his nightmare, he’d made the decision to end things that night. Yet, seeing her walk up the stairs without him made his chest tighten with anxiety.

In a few short weeks, she would be gone, and if he’d only kept his damned mouth shut, they could have spent those last few weeks in make-believe bliss. But that wasn’t fair to Chloe.

What happened between his mother and father had been a shining example of why never to get married, or agree to any kind of commitment. Hell, his mother had never remarried after that whole mess.

Righting his piano bench, he waited until enough time had passed that he was sure Chloe was sleeping. Only then did he join her.

When he woke several hours later, Chloe was gone. And he knew she wouldn’t be back. Well, not in the way that he wanted most. She would be back to finish his house because that was the kind of person she was—reliable and steadfast in her work ethic.

It was Sunday, but the last place he wanted to be was in the House of Evans. There was too much there reminding him of Chloe, and he needed time to breathe and separate himself from all of it. Later, when his feelings had come back into check and stabilized—then, he would go back.

Monday, the rain came again, and Chloe was gone before he returned.

Tuesday, the clouds remained, and Chloe was gone before he returned.

Wednesday, the sun started to peek out, only to disappear, and Chloe was nowhere in sight.

But the house was moving along quickly. Far. Too. Quickly. Each day that passed there were leaps and bounds, and the only communication between Logan and his Minou were the occasional texts seeking his guidance on design choices.

But his feelings hadn’t stabilized, and his emotions were anything but
in check.
Wondering how Chloe was faring, he’d driven past her apartment twice under the pretense of
having been in the neighborhood
. It was pathetic. He had been the one to break it off with her, and yet he couldn’t let her go.

When Thursday finally came, he drove home for his lunch break to ensure that he would get a glimpse of the beautiful Ms. Stephens. When he entered the home, it was a like a beehive during a swarm, people everywhere working on various tasks from painting to staging furniture. At a loss for words, Logan stared in awe at his nearly completed home.

Seeking her out, he caught the back-end of a conversation between Chloe and what Logan assumed to be an intern.

"I'll be twenty-three next Tuesday. I'm flying into San Diego on Sunday for an interview on Monday, so I'll do a little bit of early celebrating then."

Logan’s throat tightened.

"When did this happen?" the woman asked.

"I had a phone interview two days ago that went really well, and I got called back almost immediately."

In an instant, Logan’s shock turned to anger.

“Everyone out!” he yelled, catching everyone off guard and making Chloe jump.

All eyes converged on Chloe as if they needed confirmation, only riling him more.

“What part of OUT don’t you understand?”

Chloe waved them away, offered them each a polite smile and apology, and promised to have them back to work the following day.

When she finally came back into the kitchen, bewilderment shone on her face. But it was hard to miss the dark circles under her eyes.

“Have you been crying?”

With parted lips, she merely stared back him before she answered his question. “I’m just tired. I’m working overtime trying to get your place done …”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “I see that. You told me it would be two more weeks. I thought I still had another week-and-a-half with you. You owe me those extra days, damn it.”


Owe you
?” she huffed.

"Minou," he started, but she promptly cut him off.

"Please don't call me that."

When he saw an upsurge of emotions welling up in her eyes, he tried to reach for her, but she quickly backed away.

"Christ, I hate boundaries," he mumbled to himself.

"This coming from the man who's surrounded himself by them,” she intoned, as she turned and began to search for something.

When she found her bag and retrieved the keys from an inner pocket, she darted out the front door as if she couldn’t get away from Logan fast enough.

Still reeling from the conversation he had eavesdropped on, Logan met her outside. "San Diego? All this because I said things wouldn’t work out between us? You don’t have to run away just because of me.”

Chloe stared at him in disbelief. “I’m not running away, Logan. I’m taking your advice and taking the leap. You’re the one who told me to find my next project. Well, I have.”

“I should have just told you what I wanted from the beginning,” he caught himself admitting. “If I had, you wouldn’t be running away,” he repeated, convinced that’s what she was doing.

“This is about so much more than you not telling me that all you wanted was someone to have sex with, Logan, but you don't get it. I tried to do things at your pace; to give you space in hopes that you would come to me on your own. But you never came around, and you’re never going to come around, are you? You're just going isolate yourself in this beautiful house of yours. You’re just going to live and fuck here like it’s your own personal pleasure island, but nothing meaningful will ever come of it. I don’t know what happened in your past to make you this way, but I’m not
people.
I’m Chloe Stephens—someone who’s more than just an interior decorator. And because I
am
more, I
want
more
.
I
deserve
more
.
So do you, but you won’t allow it.”

With her car door unlocked, she jumped inside, but before she closed the door, she stared at him and shook her head. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this. You made your decision days ago. And come Friday, your house will be done and so will we—and I won’t bother you anymore with my silly, naïve expectations.”

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