Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“ W elcome home,” Joel said as he opened his Pearl District apartment’s door and stepped aside so Lucy could precede him inside.
Home. When she’d come to him with this proposition several days ago, she’d never imagined she’d be moving in a few days later. But now that she was here, away from the noise of her aunt’s house, it felt…nice.
“The second bedroom is made up for you,” Joel said as he brought her bags in. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Lucy followed him to a door at the end of the hall. “Wow,” she said as she took in the spacious room. “It’s big for a second bedroom.”
“Yeah, they don’t build them like they used to.” Joel smirked when he said this, and she understood the quip.
He was putting up buildings every day. Most new buildings focused on more units with less space. Housing demands required it, but also, prioritizing units over space was profitable. And Morgan Construction excelled both in profiting and creating well laid out spaces, so the square footage was utilized to its highest potential, even if modern builds were smaller than these older apartments.
“This place was built in the sixties,” he told her. “But I still can’t get over them building only two units up here. I keep telling Gabe he could reno and make at least four.”
Lucy fully entered the room and did a little spin. “But then you’d lose all this.” The hardwood floors creaked under her feet, sending a thrill up her spine. She loved older spaces like this.
Old wood, exposed beams, all that history bleeding through the walls. How many lives had been lived in this room?
“I love the old feel of the wood under my feet, the character of the arches, and the solid framed doors. And you’re wrong,” she went on. “Barone & Sons builds it like they used to. Just like this, sturdy and refined. Timeless and built to last.”
Joel regarded her with a raised eyebrow and a quirk on his lips.
“What?” she demanded, propping her fists on her hips. “It’s true. We’ve increased our business a lot in the last few years doing work on furniture and doors for those big old heritage homes in San Francisco. People want the nostalgia and coziness in their hundred-year-old houses, but they don’t want to compromise on quality. So they call us.”
“As they should,” Joel agreed.
She couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or agreeing with her, but his stupidly handsome face was firing her up, so she went on. “We’re the best, Joel. No contest. You should know. Morgan Construction only hires the best ,” she shot back at him with Walter Morgan’s famous quote.
Joel’s good-natured expression faltered. A flame lit his eyes to a metallic silver, and a serious air thickened the room as he watched her. For a few tense moments, they simply stared at each other across the room.
“Fuck, you deserve it.” His rumbling tone matched the inferno of his gaze.
“Deserve what?” Her own voice wavered as his intensity consumed the room.
“Everything, Lucy. You deserve everything. But especially your father’s company.”
When he came closer, her heart slammed against her rib cage. The thrill of having him within touching distance sent shock waves of electricity up and down her body.
Unsure of what she wanted, she took the smallest shuffle backward. Either he didn’t notice or didn’t care because he took another step in her direction. The kiss they’d shared at Hope’s gender-reveal party shoved its way to the forefront of her memory, and her gaze homed in on his firm lips as he pressed nearer. He was so close now she could smell every unique spicy scent of him, and her hormones went wild for it.
But for every heart-melting memory between them, there was a heart-breaking one to replace it. There’d been heat and adoration, followed by betrayal and communication breakdown. When they’d lost the one thing holding them together, everything had fallen apart. This time, she’d be careful not to get lost in his animal magnetism again.
This was bad, very, very bad. Her attraction to him was a storm. It always had been, and she needed to find a way to calm it if she was going to keep her sanity over the next year.
A year . She’d agreed to stay married to him for a year. And she’d been sober when she’d done it. Shit, she was screwed.
In an effort to re-establish control over the situation, she stepped away and took in the rest of the room. This time, he didn’t follow her.
“Well, it’s a lovely space. Gabe is right not to change it.”
Joel remained silent, and she felt stripped bare as he assessed her.
When he finally spoke, she was a mess of nerves. “Gabe’s done some upgrades, mostly things that help with insulation, and sound proofing with the bar downstairs. But he’s not interested in adding more units. Says he has no time to manage anymore overbearing tenants.”
“Hmm, overbearing. Sounds like you, Mr. Morgan.”
“Mr. Morgan,” Joel murmured with a laugh. “That’s my father. And I haven’t quite earned that honor yet.”
“I’d say you’ve more than earned it.”
How could he not think so? Apparently, he was a Forbes billionaire! But the odd insecurity in his gaze reminded her of what she’d often felt herself.
When your father was a man like Walter Morgan or Luciano Barone, well respected in the community, loved by all, a powerhouse in business—you ended up spending a lifetime trying to live up to their potential, and never quite feeling like you’ve made it.
She didn’t have the answer for Joel. If she did, she wouldn’t even be in the position she was in. So Lucy opted to lighten the mood with a joke. “Maybe you’d prefer something more suitable to your personality then, like, Sir .”
The designation seemed fitting, he was so damn authoritative and austere, but she realized her mistake almost instantly. The electricity in the room climbed several volts.
“I haven’t earned that one yet either.” His eyes flickered, two stormy swirls of promise. This wasn’t business Joel talking, it was sex god Joel. He could earn any title he wanted, and he’d do so easily .
She knew it.
She swallowed and looked away, breaking the spell once more. “Um, I should unpack and—things.”
“And things?” His smile reflected the things they would have gotten up to in another lifetime, but he took a step toward the door. “Old building, no ensuite. The shower is down the hall. I installed a removable head when I moved in, which you might find enjoyable.” With a cheeky wink, he left the room.