Chapter 6
The drive to the warehouse was painfully quiet. Even if it was only thirty minutes north to Virginia Beach, Brock felt like he’d been locked in the car for hours.
He’d picked up Juliette that morning, and they were heading to the warehouse together to choose some of the design elements for her mother’s upstairs apartment.
She’d barely said a word since she got into his truck.
Silence and sadness radiated from her. In the passenger seat, she kept her arms crossed and her coat bundled around her, watching the scenery without so much as a smile as they passed by.
Every so often she would sigh softly, then mess with a loose strand of hair that had fallen from her bun.
Already Brock had tried to talk to her about some of his latest projects.
He attempted to ask her some questions and went so far as to comment on the stupid weather.
All of which she responded to with either a simple nod or a one-word answer.
Despite his best efforts, she didn’t seem interested at all in any form of conversation.
Which was frustrating, because not only did he really want to work with her, but damn it, he missed the sound of her voice.
Having Juliette on their team at Silver Eagle Construction would be a game changer.
With her eye for design, he knew he’d be able to save the beach house.
He’d find a way to keep it out of his father’s grasp.
Unfortunately, she didn’t seem interested in working with him on a permanent basis, and he couldn’t blame her.
Brock decided to give it one more shot to see if he could get Juliette to talk to him. “Have you thought about the color scheme for the bathroom?”
She kept her eyes on the road as he pulled into the parking lot. “Not really. I’ll know it when I see it.”
“Don’t you think a color board might—”
“I already told you, this doesn’t make us friends.” She slung her handbag over one shoulder and shoved open the door. “I’m only here because of my mother. That’s it.”
Brock swallowed. Hard. “Right.”
They climbed out of the truck and headed into the warehouse.
Brock pulled out his phone, where he kept a running list of supplies needed for every project.
Gigi’s list wasn’t incredibly long, but it was exceptionally detailed.
Tiles and flooring, lighting and cabinetry, fixtures and backsplash.
For the most part, all of it could be found in one stop.
It was likely the warehouse would have a few options in stock, but the rest would have to be special ordered.
Brock trailed behind Juliette as she wandered through the warehouse—him gradually checking off boxes while she chose the aesthetic for Gigi’s renovation.
It was amazing, really, watching Juliette’s mind work, like she pieced together a rainbow.
How she saw rooms and colors was something he’d never been able to do.
To her, rooms and spaces were blank canvases, ready to be filled with color and creativity. She made them livable. Comfortable.
She made them home.
For the kitchen, they’d decided to keep the natural hardwood flooring, and since the ceiling consisted of exposed beams, Juliette went for a classic yet rustic theme.
She wanted dark oak cabinets paired with a slab of cream granite that had golden veins.
She chose a set of ornate wrought iron lighting fixtures to hang over the island and herringbone backsplash tiles.
Every once in a while she stopped in front of something that caught her eye, studied it for a moment, then continued to the next section.
This time she paused in front of a carved floor-to-ceiling cabinet made of cherrywood. “Does the budget allow for this?”
She tilted her head to the side and considered it again.
Brock checked the price tag. “Yeah. We can definitely make it work.”
“Good.” She nodded once and came around to look over his shoulder. “Can I see the blueprint again?”
“Sure.” Brock tried to ignore the knot of apprehension clogging the back of his throat.
She was standing so close, he couldn’t even think clearly.
Somehow, he’d forgotten the scent of her.
Of sweetened vanilla and some type of exotic flower.
But there it was, overwhelming him again, muddling his mind, just as it had when they were teenagers and completely obsessed with each other.
If he angled his body a little closer, his shoulder would brush hers.
“Right here. This is where I want it to go.” She tapped the screen once, then stepped back, putting fresh distance between them. “Let’s get it.”
“What do you like most about it?” He was curious why she preferred this one over the beige one she’d just chosen, but mostly he was desperate to steer his mind far away from the direction it was headed.
Nothing good ever came from thinking about the mouthwatering scent of one’s ex-girlfriend.
“Well, because of these.” Juliette opened the cabinet, and instead of the usual shelves, it was filled with pull-out drawers of varying sizes.
“This cabinet is going to act as the pantry for the kitchen. So, instead of having to shuffle items around and knock things over looking for what you need, you can pull the drawers out and see everything all at once.”
Brilliant.
“I think it’s a great idea.” He could’ve kicked himself for not thinking of it first. “You want to keep it in cherry?”
“Yeah.” She eyed it once more. “It’ll pop just enough but still match the vibe of the rest of the kitchen.”
He adjusted his notes, and they continued through the warehouse. Oddly enough, when they got to the bathroom area, Juliette’s eyes lit up. Without hesitation, she went straight to the tile.
“These,” she said with absolute certainty. Juliette turned around and held up a set of white tiles with cobalt blue designs.
Another great choice. “Those are nice.”
“I want the bathroom to have a Mediterranean vibe. A new sink is a must. The cabinet under the sink is fine, but it needs to be painted, and I’d like for there to be more storage.
” She adjusted the lopsided bun on top of her head, and the dark waves of hair tumbled to one side.
“I want the fixtures to be wrought iron to match the kitchen, but let’s add a wide mirror.
Maybe with some kind of mosaic along the edges.
We can put in some shelves on the wall, but with scrollwork. Or lattice. And a claw-foot tub.”
Brock blinked, rolling over everything she’d just said. “Are we sure there’s room for both the tub and the shelves?”
Her wintry blue eyes slid to him and the corner of her mouth lifted. “You tell me.”
He winced and checked the numbers. Of course there was space. It was foolish of him to think she hadn’t done any calculations of her own before joining him. “You’re really good at this, you know?”
Juliette shrugged, almost like she didn’t believe him. Or like she knew but didn’t care.
He pushed the issue a bit further. “Why did you stop focusing on interior design?”
This time she took a keen interest in her shiny black boots. “That’s a long story.”
“I’ve got nothing but time.” He jotted down a few more notes in his phone and nodded toward the front of the warehouse. “Once I place the order, we’ll be all done here. You want to grab a coffee?”
He could see the hesitation. The way her face instantly shuttered.
“Strictly professional,” he added quickly, and lifted both hands in the form of a truce. “As temporary work associates. Not friends.”
Her teeth snagged on her plump bottom lip, and he was instantly a liar because his cock twitched.
She looked so pretty standing there, leggings hugging her every curve, debating whether or not to accept his offer.
And all he could focus on was how well those glossy nude lips of hers would look wrapped around his dick.
Brock roughed a hand over his face and looked anywhere else but at her.
Damn, working with Juliette was going to be harder than he thought.
She was dealing with a breakup, life had dealt her a shitty hand, and he was over here sexualizing her.
He had to stay focused and keep his mind out of the gutter.
As long as he kept himself occupied with work and the beach house, he would be fine.
“Alright.” Juliette shrugged a little, and a spark of hope ignited inside of Brock’s chest. “I mean, I could always go for a latte.”
***
An hour later they were back in Mystic Cove, and Brock pulled into a parking spot where rows of shops with pastel storefronts lined Shoreline Drive.
Juliette leaned forward in her seat, peering up at the rustic wood sign beneath a striped awning. “Latte and Bean. Cute name. Is this place new?"
“New-ish.” Latte & Bean had been open for a while now, but it was new to Juliette, and that’s what mattered. “You remember Miss Bobbie, right?”
Her dark brows lifted in surprise. “Miss Bobbie Jean Blanchard? You mean the town busybody who prides herself on being the biggest gossip on this side of the Mississippi?”
“The very one.” Brock grinned. “She opened this spot up after the zoning for Starbucks fell through.”
“Wow. How convenient of her to open a coffee shop where she can eavesdrop on conversations all day.” Juliette smiled. Bright and brilliant and beautiful. It left his heart racing.
Brock sucked in a breath. Damn, he’d missed her smile. In fact, he missed everything about her. He just hadn’t realized it until now.
“Entrepreneurship at its finest.” Brock cleared his throat.