Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
preston
Showered. Calmer. Wearing clothes that don’t require caution tape, I step into the living room and find Mia seated on the couch beside the designer. They’re surrounded by swatches, sketches, and enough architectural renderings to renovate the Colosseum.
“Dr. Jett, I’m Zaha, nice to officially meet you.” We shake hands, and I sit across from her, while Mia stays quiet, observing and idly fiddling with the corner of a fabric swatch.
“Apologies for earlier. I was in one of my moods. Frustrating morning.”
“Not to worry. I cleared my day. Callie and Mia made it clear that you should be my top priority. I’ve brought three concepts I’d love your feedback on.” Apparently, everyone means business today, and the clock is running. “Tell me what you like, what you don’t, and we’ll take it from there.”
She flips through the options. Wood. Metal. Bold tones. Warm and sun-drenched neutrals. Light fixtures so elaborate they might levitate. Too much to choose from. Too much, period.
“The brief the ladies gave me was to start fresh. Wipe the slate clean.”
I catch Mia leaning back on the couch, about to crawl her way up and out of there.
“You want the room to feel… new, right? More you, less history,” Zaha offers nonchalantly, a hand flicking in the air.
Mia’s mouth drops open and shut a few times before words find her. “I—I didn’t… I swear. It’s your room, you decide what—”
Zaha swoops in to save her while I watch her squirm.
“I misspoke.” She places a gentle hand on Mia’s knee, though it does nothing to settle her.
“That’s correct. Mia briefed me on the layout and dimensions.
” She turns to me. “Callie called last night to… well, let’s just say I can’t quote her directly, but she filled me in on your life’s latest developments.
She also made it clear that if I didn’t clear space for this project, I wouldn’t live to regret it. ”
My best friend issued her a death threat, and she’s laughing about it. What an odd woman. “I’m here to give you a fresh start at home. This is my favorite kind of project, so let’s get going.”
“Well, minus the homicide promise, that’s… pretty accurate.” I rub the back of my neck. “To be fair, she probably saved us both some time. If you’ve worked with Callie before, you know her brand of crazy comes gift-wrapped with good intentions.”
“Absolutely,” Zaha says with flair. “You’ve got good people in your corner.”
“I do.”
My eyes find Mia before I can stop them.
The kind of good you don't see coming—until it's already saving you.
Zaha hands over the three-room concepts, and right off the bat, I’m floored. The first one’s stunning. Earthy tones. Forest wallpaper. Heavy curtains. Solid wood pieces. I like it.
“What do you think?” I ask Mia.
She hesitates. “This is about you.”
“I didn’t ask what it’s about,” I say softly. “I asked what you think.”
Her gaze lifts to mine, then drops to the papers. “I love the tone. It feels alive. Not too formal. Not boring either.”
I nod and turn to Zaha, handing the papers back. “The green, then.”
There’s a pause as she taps something on her tablet. Mia keeps her hands folded in her lap until we both reach for the same brushed brass sample.
Our fingers touch. Her breath hitches. Mine catches.
We don’t say a word. But something shifts.
“Well, that was easy,” Zaha chuckles. “You don’t want to mix all three? Drive me nuts? Build a Frankenstein?”
“No. I know what I want.” I’m not looking at Zaha anymore, and Mia blushes the deepest red. I’m tempted to change my mind and ask for curtains in that exact shade.
Zaha checks something on her tablet. “I can get everything delivered within forty-eight hours. If you can vacate your room for a night—”
“I think I can scavenge for an extra bed somewhere in the house.” I glance at Mia again.
Her eyes go so wide they might pop out of their sockets. “Stop it,” she mouths, and the best I can do, rather than laugh out loud, is grin like a fool. She’s been torturing me all day, so let’s call this payback.
“Perfect. Then we can strip your room tomorrow, polish the floors, prime the walls, let everything dry and set. We’ll install the furniture and decor the next day. Sounds good?”
“Very. My daughter’s at school from eight to six. Can you work around that so it doesn’t disrupt her routine?”
“Of course. I’ve heard you did a number on your bathroom, so that might take an extra day or two. My team will access it, and we’ll do our best to stick to that window.”
I stand, not wanting to be rude, but desperate for some alone time with my nanny. “Zaha, you’ve been a dream. If Lily's on board, we might redo the whole house. And I promise, no death threats next time.”
She throws her head back and laughs—a loud and unexpected sound that startles both me and Mia.
“My job here is done. I’ll go check the upstairs bathroom before I head out. Need to call suppliers and go on a shopping spree next. My favorite part.”
“Sure. I’ll show you the way.”
After Zaha leaves, I spread the design printouts across the kitchen island. Mia bounces over, eyes lit up, hands clasped in front of her. “Okay, fine. I love it too.”
She sounds helium-high, joy straining her vocal cords. I chuckle at her excitement and press a hand at the small of her back, reeling her in. My pinky itches, aching to trace lower, just as a contractor passes us by with an, “Afternoon, sir,” reminding me we’re not alone.
Mia’s got the energy of the Energizer Bunny—she’s relentless, ridiculous, and somehow exactly what I need. I don’t say it out loud. She’d either not get the reference, and I’d go ten shades grayer, or she could mistake it for a joke. It isn’t. It’s a whole-hearted compliment.
Her spark is contagious. And it’s been a long time since anything caught.
We sit side by side on the kitchen stools, studying the 3D renderings of what my room will look like.
“Can you believe she can make all this happen in just a couple of days?” Mia mimes a head explosion and pulls another grin out of me.
“It’s just a fresh coat of paint and new furniture.” My pragmatism flares up.
“Still.” She flips to another page. “Are you sure you don’t want to change anything? You should have it your way. You’re the one paying for it.”
Oh, I know. My nanny is very high maintenance. I think she’s inherited bad habits, working for a billionaire. Everyone she’s hired has been both incredible and horrifically overpriced.
“I really liked this color.” I point to the dark forest green. “The wallpaper too, with those palm trees. And this bed.” The canopy one. I can already picture her tied up there. Splayed out. Begging.
“What else?” Her tone’s so invested I try to think of something else, something I can say out loud, but I’ve got nothing.
“I don’t know about the details. I just liked it.”
“Look closer. It’s your bedroom, Preston. This is supposed to be your new sanctuary.”
Mia rises and stands behind me. I feel her before I hear her—heat humming against my back. “Can you lower the stool so I can touch you? Let’s see if I’ve learned anything.”
I do, and her breath ghosts across my ear. I wonder if she can spot the goosebumps crawling up my arms.
Her hands land on my shoulders, firm from the start. What starts as a grunt finishes as a moan. She’s getting too good at this. I need to hold her to the full body massage I saw on her spreadsheet.
“I’m sorry. Your shirt is—Would you—”
Gone. Out of the way. Can’t keep my cool when the question removes layers between us.
“Wow. The one-hand pull. Nice move.”
I chuckle and glance back at her.
“Eyes on the pics, Doctor. Let’s get you relaxed and make sure nothing’s missing.”
I hear Mia going through the cupboard and popping a lid open. I’m curious, but also too blissed out to care. Surprises from Mia tend to come wrapped in chaos and delight.
She returns, her hands slick and warm, the scent of coconut washing over me.
“Mia Thorne, are you using cooking oil on me?” I’m joking. She could be using sewage, and I’d be complimenting the lovely scent she picked for the occasion.
“Virgin coconut oil from an unopened jar.” She laughs. “Didn’t want to break the moment by going upstairs for our oil. Now hush. Look at the picture.”
Our oil, huh?
Her hands glide over my back. I exhale hard.
“Tell me what made you choose that one.”
“The atmosphere. I saw myself smiling when I walked into that room.”
“That’s a perfect start. And honestly surprising. Care to explain why?”
“It’s warm, calm. Inviting.”
“What grabbed your attention first?”
“The side table. With the mini library underneath.”
She hums in the most sexual way. Or so my dick says.
“What else?”
“The paintings.”
She slaps my right shoulder. “There are no paintings in the room, Dr. Preston.”
“Sorry, you relaxed me too much. I closed my eyes. You only have yourself to blame.” Another slap, but this one is lighter and comes with giggles. “The curtains. I love to sleep in the dark, and the heavy, dark curtains pulled me in.”
“Do you want to add paintings?”
“No. Pictures. New ones. Around the house too. Make new memories.” Her hands drift up my neck. My head bows into her hands. Her thumbs press behind my ears, and another moan escapes me.
“I’ll message Zaha and ask her to add that to the project. Can’t believe I’m asking you this, but… let’s be practical now.”
I laugh—until her hands coast down my front. Fingertips teasing over my chest, nails dragging down, then up my abdomen. The laughter dies in my throat.
“Miaaaa…” It comes out as a stretched-out warning.
“Sorry.” It drips with fake innocence, very much not sorry. “Guess I got distracted too. Told you I can’t think straight if you’re not wearing a shirt.”
Her hands return to my shoulders as she steps in closer, mouth next my ear.
“One last look. What else do you want in your bedroom? What’s still missing before we can call it perfect?”
You. I want you in it.
“A scent diffuser,” I say instead.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were into aromatherapy.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “Do you have a favorite scent?”
“Lemon and honey.” I don’t think before I say it, but it’s out. It’s her scent. Her hands pause just long enough to let me know she heard it.
She recovers quickly. “Anything else?”
I scramble. Change the subject. Miss the mark completely. “I like the dark gray bathroom tiles. The tub that looks like a pool.”
Mia laughs, lightening the mood. “You could fit three people in there. Maybe even four.”
“No.” I roll my neck, feeling more relaxed. “Just two. With enough space to move around.”
I know the innuendo isn’t lost when her nails dig into my skin. Good. I’ll wear the marks as a badge of honor.
“You’re getting too good at this,” I praise.
“What? Massages?”
“That, and getting the truth out of me. You’re such a quick study, Miss Thorne. I can’t wait to start our next lessons and teach you some other things.” I start to turn around, but she stops me.
“As I’ve said, I’m on the clock. You come first and—”
“Oh no, I don’t.” I cackle. “Not when I’m teaching you.”
“Oh, stop it.” She pushes me playfully. “Put that shirt back on. Now. Your mind is in the gutter, not on your dream room anymore.” God, I love when she gets all feisty and bossy.
The alarm to pick up Lily beeps, interrupting us. This time I’m allowed to turn around as she steps back.
“Mia,” I breathe her name in. “Your top.”
She glances down at the giant oil stain on it, then back at me.
“Huh…” She grins. “Guess I like it when you make a mess of me.”