Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
CHASE
“We really nailed this,” I said, guiding the Fransons through the last few details. I pointed to the screen, emphasizing Tom’s prized workspace. “See how it integrates without sacrificing any of the living area? A seamless transition between productivity and relaxation.”
“Impressive.” Tom nodded with enthusiasm. “You understood what I wanted better than I did.”
Marilyn placed a final copy of the contract in front of him, her timing impeccable.
Tom leaned back and eyed me like I’d just turned water into wine. “This is exactly why we went with you, Chase. You’re a man of vision and action.”
Beside him, his wife glanced up, her smile warm and appreciative. “It’s lovely, Mr. Ashworth. I knew it would be. You’ve brought it all together so beautifully.”
“We’ve already started coordinating with the structural engineers, so permitting should progress quickly,” I continued, trying not to sound too much like a salesman. “Construction will be underway soon.”
A well of relief mixed with pride surged through me, a validation of every late night and second-guessed decision. The anxiety that had haunted me since the firm opened lifted just a little, like mist burned away by the morning sun.
Marilyn collected the final signed documents, her calm professionalism adding a sense of completion to the moment. “We look forward to starting this project,” she said with a graceful nod. “Thank you for your trust in Latitudes Design.”
The Fransons left, their footsteps echoing down the hall like the soundtrack of my success. I watched them go, enjoying the comforting weight of a job well done.
Marilyn lingered for a moment, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “That was almost too easy. You’re setting the bar high, Chase.”
“Maybe next time, I’ll try juggling fire,” I joked, already feeling the shift from business to personal as I watched her softly latch the door behind her.
I leaned back in my chair, alone in the sunlit conference room, and the mental dam I’d built around Harper broke free.
My mind wandered back to that unexpected, intense night.
Not just the argument or the furious first kiss, but the moment after.
When I’d pushed her against the desk, ready to lose myself entirely, and she’d stiffened.
When she’d seen me naked and ready. Her eyes, usually so direct and confident, had widened with a sudden flash of something I hadn’t expected—vulnerability?
Fear? It had jolted me, stopping me cold.
It was more than concern at my size. Then she’d spoken the words, something raw and honest about how long it had been. Years. How she wasn’t sure…
The admission had hit me hard. Years. She’d been alone, guarding herself, raising Finn, managing that resort, and I’d almost charged right past that fragile trust in my own urgency.
A sharp wave of protectiveness had washed over me, followed quickly by a surge of something fiercely possessive, almost primal.
I was the first in years.
I would make this right for her.
I would be careful.
I forced myself to slow down then, gentling my touch, whispering her name, needing to erase that fear, needing her to choose this with me, not just be swept away by the heat of the moment.
And the way she’d melted at last, the tension easing from her shoulders, her eyes meeting mine again with a dawning trust that made my own breath catch…
Goddamn.
And then seeing her completely unravel, hearing that raw, beautiful cry torn from her throat as she shattered against me…
Jesus, it had been humbling. Powerful. Witnessing that release after so long was a different kind of intensity altogether, something that went beyond mere physical pleasure and took root deep in my chest, both exhilarating and terrifying.
And now, that memory—her vulnerability, her stunning release—only amplified my worry. This wasn’t just sex. This was something else. Something terrifyingly real.
I pushed away from the conference table, the smooth glide of my chair on the polished floor echoing in the sudden quiet. I walked to the window, staring out at the familiar Dove Key landscape without really seeing it. Because my mind had traveled back to Room 1212 this morning.
Getting Harper to agree on replacing the copper pipes had felt like a victory, not just for the project’s integrity, but for us. It meant she trusted my judgment, even when it complicated her budget and schedule. The relief that washed over me when she conceded had been immense.
And then, the apologies. Stilted at first, then dissolving into that shared, unexpected laughter. It had felt like breaking through a layer of ice, finding something warmer, more real underneath.
But then… the closet.
Even now, hours later, I couldn’t quite believe I’d done that. What the hell had possessed me? Right there, surrounded by raw lumber and drywall dust, with hammering echoing just feet away… we’d nearly lost ourselves again. Thank God I’d gotten that text.
I ran a hand over my face before whispering, “A closet. On an active worksite. Jesus.”
It defied every rule of professional conduct I’d ever adhered to. It defied basic common sense. Yet, remembering the feel of her lips, the soft gasp against my mouth, the sheer rightness of holding her… a thrill shot through me, overriding the logical panic.
This thing with Harper, whatever it was, wasn’t going to be compartmentalized. It wasn’t going to stay neatly within the lines I usually drew around my life. It was messy, complicated, and incredibly potent. All the things I tried to avoid, all the things I had no clue how to navigate.
I couldn’t wait to see her again. The thought was a persistent fire, licking at the edges of my ordered life. A deviation from my precisely planned trajectory. A beautiful, terrifying deviation.
But fear clung just as fiercely. Harper was more than just a tempting unknown.
She was a mother, a professional ally, a pivotal part of my world and Eli’s.
Her history was more complicated than the blueprints I drew up for a living.
Finn’s father had left her the moment he found out she was pregnant.
As far as I knew, she’d never heard from him again.
Which was undoubtedly for the best—any man who would do that to his woman and child didn’t deserve them.
I weighed the risks, logic fighting with emotion in a tug-of-war that left me frayed and exhausted. She was everything I craved but told myself I didn’t need, a thrilling challenge to my sense of control. And maybe the only person who understood the high stakes as well as I did.
The meeting with Eli tonight loomed large in my mind.
A simple get-together at my place for drinks that was anything but simple.
Not telling him wasn’t even an option. I was an awful liar, and even withholding the truth made me horribly uncomfortable.
I imagined the disappointment in his eyes, the confrontation.
But I needed his perspective, his acknowledgment, maybe even his permission before this spiraled out of control.
His old warning came back to haunt me. A pact sealed with a high school promise—his sisters were off-limits. “You break it, I break you.” His words had hung somewhere between truth and humor, but his eyes had been dead serious.
I stared at the clock, my life unfolding in dizzying, exhilarating chaos.
I arranged the bourbon glasses for the third time, angling them just so on the walnut side table.
The evening air hung heavy with jasmine and salt, a typical Keys combination that usually soothed me.
Not tonight. The string lights overhead cast soft illumination across my deck, creating the illusion of calm that contradicted the storm in my chest. Any minute now, Eli would arrive, and I’d have to tell my best friend that I’d had mind-blowing sex with his sister.
Well, maybe not quite in those words. I took a deep breath and poured two fingers of bourbon into each glass, watching the amber liquid catch the light.
The ice clinked against the sides like a countdown.
The restored house had been my passion project for years—a 1920s conch house with good bones and terrible updates that I’d painstakingly returned to its original charm while adding modern conveniences.
The deck had been my final addition, a place to unwind after long days at the office.
Usually, sitting here as the sun dipped toward the horizon brought me peace.
Tonight, it felt like waiting for my own execution.
I swirled the bourbon in my glass as the sunset painted the sky in streaks of orange and pink. A gentle breeze stirred the palm fronds overhead, their soft rustle a counterpoint to the crickets starting their evening chorus.
The sound of flip-flops slapping against the concrete path announced Eli’s arrival moments before he appeared, grinning and carrying a small paper bag as he opened the solid wooden gate.
He stopped just inside the gate, taking an appreciative glance around the deck and the back of the house, all illuminated by the new landscape lighting I’d installed last month.
“Place looks good as always, man,” Eli said, moving toward the chairs. “So, fend off any frantic calls from magazine editors or millionaires begging you to sell it lately?”