Chapter 19
nineteen
. . .
Bridger
I didn’t normally find women adorable.
I would typically find a woman attractive, which was as far as it ever went.
But Emilia Taylor is fucking adorable.
I didn’t even know the word “adorable” was in my vocabulary.
But she’d shown up today just how I was hoping she would. She was on time and prepared.
More than prepared. She’d impressed the hell out of me.
But it was the way her eyes were scanning my chest, my face—I swear, she’d even stared at my hands for a few beats.
I normally wouldn’t notice or care if a woman was checking me out.
But this woman was different.
I noticed everything.
Hell, I’d looked forward to getting home tonight, even ending a meeting early so I wouldn’t be late.
Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and she wore a fitted white turtleneck sweater and faded jeans that hung low on her hips with some heeled boots, though I still towered over her.
She looked up at me, lips parted, chest moving rapidly up and down.
“I was not staring.”
“There’s no shame in staring,” I said with a smirk. “I was your teenage crush, after all.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are never going to let that go, are you?”
“Hey, you got the apology out of me after you confessed, so it was a win for you.”
“Well, just know that many women outgrow their teenage crushes. And seeing as you tortured me for years after, I outgrew that stage back in high school.”
My lips turned up the slightest bit, because I loved seeing her all flustered. “Good to know. We can’t have you gaping at me if you’re going to be working for me, can we?”
Her eyes widened. “I got the job?”
“You got the job. It’s yours if you want it.”
Her cheeks flushed pink.
Fuck me. Maybe I was the one with the fucking crush now.
I’d fucked my hand in the shower to thoughts of Emilia this morning.
Again.
I was a dude with a strong libido, but I hadn’t been out in a while, and I still had needs.
It just surprised me that it was Emilia who continued to fill my thoughts. I hadn’t expected that.
“I want it,” she said, and my dick took her words out of context and immediately hardened.
Fucking traitor.
I leaned forward, elbows on the tabletop, erection hidden beneath, as I mentally warned my cock to pull it together. “All right. When can you start.”
“Right now.” She smiled. “I can’t believe I got it. Thank you.”
I nodded. “You came prepared. You impressed me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I took another pull from my bottle. “What do you need from me. Do you need a deposit?”
“No. You can pay as you go. I’m in the process of setting up a portal, so it will update on each stage, and you can just go on and pay as each job is completed.”
“And your fee?”
“I, um, well, you’re my first client, so I’m still figuring that part out. We can either do an hourly rate, or we could do a percentage of the project cost.” Clearly, this portion of the business was not her strength. Normally, I’d go for the kill right here. She’d just given me all the power.
She didn’t have a plan.
But for whatever reason, I didn’t want to do that.
“Emilia, it’s important that you have a plan in place for billing. I actually did some research on this before you arrived. Are you open to some advice?” I asked, and her gaze searched mine, and I could tell she was disappointed that she hadn’t thought that far ahead.
She nodded.
“If I were you, I would charge a combination of both. You can do an hourly rate for the consult and the design phase of the project and then do a percentage of the total project cost as well.”
“Okay. Yes, that’s a good idea. I can type up a contract and bring that tomorrow with the hourly rate and the percentage.” She chewed on her thumbnail, and I could see the way her mind was spinning.
I chuckled, because I could tell she was still trying to figure out what to charge me. I leaned forward, my lips grazing the shell of her ear, as jasmine and vanilla flooded my senses. “Don’t sell yourself short. I have an eye for recognizing talent, and I think you’ve got it.”
When I pulled back, she was watching me. She appeared shell-shocked.
Do I make her nervous?
“Breathe, Emilia. It’s just financial advice. Nothing more.”
She shook her head as if she was pulling herself together and then abruptly pushed to her feet. “I’m just processing. It’s a new business, and I have a lot to learn, but I can see it, you know?”
“See what?” I asked.
“I can see this place in all its glory. I have the vision. I just need to get the business side under control.”
I took the final pull from my bottle and watched as she turned slowly and took in the room as if cataloging every detail.
The doorbell startled me, and I groaned.
I hated unexpected visitors.
“Oh, do you have a hot date?” She hurried over to the table and dropped her laptop in her backpack.
“No,” I said dryly. Annoyed with whoever the fuck was here.
I pulled the door open and glared at Rafe, who barreled right past me wearing a peach sweater and baby blue skinny-fit trousers.
He looked like a toddler.
“Why aren’t you answering your phone, fuckface?” he said over his laughter. “Everyone is meeting for dinner.”
I followed him through the house, about to argue that I knew nothing about dinner plans, and he paused when he saw Emilia. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?”
“Yes,” I said, just as Emilia said “No.”
She chuckled. “I just booked my first design job. It’s official. Vintage Interiors has its first client.”
Rafe moved toward her and gave her a big hug, which pissed me the fuck off. No idea why it bothered me. He was a friendly fucker, so it wasn’t out of character.
But she’d never hugged me before.
I wasn’t a hugger, to be honest.
But I wouldn’t mind hugging Emilia Taylor.
“Congratulations. It’s about time this stubborn ass decorated this place,” my brother said as he pulled back and thrust his thumb in my direction.
“Oh, I need to get going. I have a lot of work to do tonight. My first client is a tyrant,” she said, turning to look at me with a big grin on her face. “You guys have a nice dinner.”
“I haven’t even agreed to go with you to dinner.” I glared at Rafe.
“You’re a sure thing. This guy gets hangry, like a little child, and all hell breaks loose.” He laughed loudly, and I had a strong desire to punch him in the dick.
Emilia pulled her backpack up on her shoulder and reached for her keys. “Okay, Bridger, thank you for the opportunity. I’ll have a formal contract for you to sign tomorrow, and we’ll come up with a plan.”
“That works.” I followed her to the door and pulled it open. She hurried outside before slipping into her car.
I waited until she’d pulled out of my driveway before I closed the door and walked back to where my brother was standing. He was waiting for me with one eyebrow arched and a devious smile on his face.
“Do you have something to tell me, brother?” he asked.
“Yes. You look like a fucking creamsicle. Who the fuck dresses you?”
He looked down at his outfit. “This is called ‘hipster,’ dude. Have you ever heard of personal style? You dress like a rich dude who just got home from a business meeting.”
“I am a rich dude who just got home from a business meeting. You look like you should be driving an ice cream truck.”
His head fell back in laughter. “Is there anyone who is better at derailing a conversation than you? How come you didn’t mention that you were hiring Emilia Taylor to decorate your house?”
“Because I hired Emilia to decorate my house five minutes ago, right before you barged in here, you shithead.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Touché. Well, I need to talk to you, and you weren’t answering your phone. I texted Easton, Axel, and Archer to meet us at Rosewood’s. I’ve got news,” he said. “Clark and Emerson are going to FaceTime while we’re at the restaurant.”
Rosewood’s was the nicest steakhouse in town, and obviously if he’d called us all together, he had something he needed to share.
But Rafe always had something to share.
“You’ve got them FaceTiming us at the restaurant? This is clearly serious. Mom and Dad are all right?”
“Yes, you big softy,” he said with a laugh as he bumped me with his shoulder. “I love when you remind me that you’re just a big teddy bear beneath that toxic jackass demeanor.”
I rolled my eyes as I slipped on my jacket. “Nothing soft about me, brother. You’re driving—I’m in the mood for a few drinks.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
He drove the short distance to the restaurant, where the guys were already sitting at a table. This meant Archer had to have gotten someone to watch Melody so he could be here.
What the fuck is going on?
We said our quick hellos, all of these sappy bastards hugging one another as I quickly patted them each on the shoulder and took my seat.
Rafe insisted we place our orders so we could FaceTime with Emerson and Clark, as he didn’t want to be interrupted.
“For fuck’s sake, what is going on?” I demanded.
My chest tightened at the thought of something being wrong, because this was over the top even for Rafe.
He handed his phone to Easton and told him to hold it so that Clark and Emerson could see him.
My brother was a theatrical motherfucker, and he was clearly dropping something big.
“Patience,” he said with a wicked grin on his face as he looked at me. “I’ve already spoken to Mom and Dad, and I wanted to share the biggest news of my life with you all here together.”
The server set down our cocktails in front of us, along with a basket of bread.
“Tell us,” Emerson said as she smiled through the phone screen. “I’m on the edge of my seat.”
“I’m proposing to Lulu on Christmas morning.”
Gasps and cheers and excitement erupted around the table.
I, however, did not make one celebratory noise. Because we’d gone with him to purchase an engagement ring. It had been outed in that fucked-up column, “The Taylor Tea.” So we already knew he was proposing.
“Why the fuck did you make me think someone was dying?” I chucked a roll and hit him in the chest, and of course the goofy bastard just roared out a laugh before taking a bite of it.
“I didn’t. I said that I had news. This is my news. And I wanted to share how it would happen, because I want you all there.”
I’d never liked the buildup of news. Hell, maybe that’s why I despised that annoying-ass gossip column. I didn’t like the idea of guessing what was coming. Assuming and projecting. That was a bullshit thing to do.
If you’ve got news, just tell me.
Don’t drag it out.
I’m a dude with a dark mind. I certainly didn’t enter the world on a magic unicorn, so I know that life isn’t always rainbows and sunshine.
But my family typically saw the best in everything, and I did what I could to survive their positivity most days.
“Tell us the plan,” Axel said.
Rafe spent the next twenty minutes filling us in on how he was having a custom gift box made, which would be delivered to our parents’ home.
He would make up some bullshit story about needing to go to their house early on Christmas morning to set up a few toys for Melody and Cutler. He wanted Easton and Henley to pick up Lulu and bring her over with them. He would apparently already be inside said gift box when they arrived.
Yes. He was going to jump out of a giant gift box, because who would expect a grown man dressed like a goddamn ice cream bar to jump out of a life-sized box?
“It’s going to have a tag on it with Lulu’s name.
So when she walks over to see what the hell it is, I’m going to jump out with a ring in my hand and propose.
Yes… I’m the gift that keeps on giving .
She gets to keep me forever.” He laughed, and everyone was shaking their heads and smiling at how over the top he was.
“Congrats, brother. I’m happy for you.” Easton clapped him on the shoulder as everyone said some sort of similar congratulatory words.
Emerson said she would wait to tell Cutler until Christmas Eve so he wouldn’t slip, but that they were looking forward to spending the holiday in Rosewood River.
“Well, it’s a bit over the top, but that’s kind of your style. I’m just hoping you choose to dress like a grown man when you jump out of a box.” I smirked.
“Says the dude who sent a high-end toilet to his nemesis as an apology gift,” Rafe said, before turning his attention to everyone at the table. “Have you heard the other big news? Grumpy McMuffin just hired Emilia Taylor to do the interior of his McMansion.”
I rolled my eyes, grateful when a big fat rib eye was set down in front of me.
And they gave me shit for the next thirty minutes.
I didn’t mind at all.
Emilia had agreed to design my home.
Normally I despised having people in my space, but for whatever reason, the idea of Emilia Taylor in my space didn’t bother me at all.