Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
HARPER
I logged the final approval for the new poolside loungers into our renovation tracker, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips.
The spreadsheet before me was showing more green check marks than red flags for once.
My gaze drifted to the small stack of paint swatches on the corner of my desk, each labeled in Chase’s precise handwriting.
I ran my finger across the top one, the soft blue-gray that would transform our tired guest rooms into something fresh and inviting.
Just like he had transformed so many quiet evenings into something I looked forward to.
A knock sounded at my open door. Jules leaned against the doorframe, her dark hair pulled back in its customary bun.
“You’re smiling at a spreadsheet.” One beautifully arched eyebrow lifted. “Should I be concerned?”
“I’m smiling because, for once, we’re not hemorrhaging money or time.” I turned my laptop toward her. “Room Block One is on schedule, and the pool remodel is actually ahead.”
“Don’t jinx it.” Jules stepped into my office, her eyes scanning the renovation tracker with the same intensity she applied to our financial statements.
“That is a very reassuring progress report. Speaking of which, I’ve finished the quarterly projections.
Want to review them tomorrow morning? I’ve got dinner plans tonight. ”
“Oh? You and Eli having a date night?”
“We are.” A smile softened Jules’s features. “We’re heading to that new seafood place on Big Pine Key.”
“Have fun.” I saved my work and began shutting down my computer. “I’ve got plans too.”
“More construction meetings with our architect?”
I laughed but didn’t rise to her bait. I didn’t need to.
Jules knew more than most about the intricacies of becoming involved with someone you worked with.
“Chase is bringing over the flooring samples for Room Block One tonight. We need to finalize the selection before the installer schedules the job.”
What I didn’t mention was the pizza waiting in my fridge or the way my skin tingled with anticipation at the thought of Chase’s hands on me later, after Finn was asleep.
The past two weeks had flown by in a blur of renovation meetings interspersed with moments that felt like sunshine breaking through clouds I hadn’t even realized were there. Little things, casual interactions that somehow filled spaces inside me I’d forgotten were empty.
Like Tuesday last week, when we’d stolen away for lunch during a chaotic day. We’d ended up at a tiny sandwich shop, crammed at a corner table, blueprints spread between our turkey clubs.
“This is seriously the best sandwich I’ve ever had,” Chase had declared, somehow making the statement sound both utterly sincere and slightly ridiculous.
“You said that about the Cuban at Tropical Hops last Thursday,” I’d countered, wiping a bit of mayo from the corner of his mouth with my thumb, the casual intimacy of the gesture making our eyes lock for a long beat.
His eyes had darkened as he caught my hand, pressing a quick kiss to my palm—quick but deliberate enough to make my breath catch. “I’m a man of varied and excellent tastes.”
There had been dozens of other stolen moments—text messages that threatened to make me laugh out loud during tedious staff meetings, the way he’d started carrying my coffee order in his head as easily as ceiling heights and square footage calculations.
And then there were the nights. After Finn was tucked in, those late-evening conversations on my porch swing or curled up on my couch meandered from resort business to philosophical debates about the best movie trilogies. Conversations that inevitably led to more.
The physical part. God, the physical part was unlike anything I’d experienced before.
Not just the intensity, though there was certainly that.
It was the attentiveness, the way Chase approached my body like an architect approaches a challenging but inspiring project—with curiosity, enthusiasm, and a determination to understand what made it sing.
Last Sunday night, he’d walked me backward toward my bedroom, his lips never leaving mine as he whispered, “Tell me what you like, Harper. I want to know everything you like.”
And for once in my life, I had.
But there was more than just the physical connection. There was the way he’d sat at my kitchen table three nights ago, patiently helping Finn with a kindergarten alphabet project, his big hands guiding my son’s much smaller ones as they traced letters onto construction paper.
I hadn’t meant to let myself hope. I really hadn’t.
Six years of being Finn’s only parent had taught me the value of self-sufficiency, the danger of expectations.
But watching them together, seeing Chase fold himself into our little world with such natural ease, I couldn’t help the tender shoot of possibility that had taken root inside me.
My phone buzzed with a text notification, pulling me back to my office and the present moment. I smiled as Chase’s name flashed on the screen.
Chase: Flooring samples secured. ETA your place 6:30. Pizza and professional opinions to follow. Maybe other things too…
I bit my lip, warmth spreading through me as I typed back a quick response.
Jules appeared in my doorway again, purse in hand. “I’m heading out. Don’t stay too late.”
“I’m on my way too. Have fun with Eli.”
The late afternoon sun cast golden light over the resort, highlighting the areas of busy activity. The visible progress. Landscaping was taking shape, and the freshly painted building gleamed like a promise waiting to be fulfilled. Everything was buzzing with potential, and I felt like I was, too.
I let myself enjoy the sensation. I’d spent too long denying it.
I headed home, where Finn met me at the front door. He glanced up at me, his face shining with expectation. “Is Chase here yet?”
“Not yet, sweetheart. But soon.” I kissed the top of his head. “Think you’ll have room for pizza?”
He nodded, a sticky smile spreading across his face. “Uh-huh. We got pepperoni, right?”
“And extra cheese,” I confirmed.
Muffled sounds drew my attention to the kitchen, where my mother emerged. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, and she had that familiar look of satisfied relief that came from quality time with her grandson, now over.
“Well, I’ve got all the dishes in the dishwasher, and there’s fresh lemonade in the fridge,” Mom said, coming over to kiss my cheek. “You guys have a good night.”
“Thanks for watching him, Mom.” I squeezed her hand, grateful as always for her unwavering support. “I hope he wasn’t too much of a tornado today.”
She laughed, ruffling Finn’s hair. “Wouldn’t be the same if he wasn’t. Good thing he’s an angel too.” With a wave, she shut the front door behind her.
Finn bounced ahead of me into the living room, full of questions about when Chase would arrive. I watched him, imagining nights like this stretching far into the future.
I set down my things and glanced around the cozy space, envisioning where we’d sit, eat, and plan.
In my mind, I saw the three of us curled on the couch, Chase with an arm around me, Finn asleep against his chest. The image made me feel like I was floating, like the old anchor of fear had loosened its hold at last.
I straightened the coasters on the table, aligning them precisely with the corners. “Why don’t you put your toys away? Chase and I need to look at floor samples.”
“Can I keep the LEGOs out? Chase said we might finish the spaceship tonight.” Finn’s eyes were wide and hopeful, a miniature negotiator in training.
“Fine. Just the spaceship pieces, though, not your entire collection.”
“Yes!” Finn pumped his fist in the air and raced to his bedroom.
I smiled after him, then moved to the kitchen to check on dinner preparations.
The pizza was ready to heat, salad prepped in the fridge, and I’d even picked up a tiramisu from Sweet Dreams—Chase’s favorite.
Nothing fancy but thoughtful. A comfortable family evening that felt both significant and perfectly ordinary.
My phone buzzed on the counter. Chase’s name appeared on the screen, and I smiled as I answered.
“Hey. Are you on your way?” I nestled the phone between my ear and shoulder as I arranged three plates on the counter.
“Harper.” Something in his tone made me stop. “A situation just came up.”
The plate in my hand stilled. “What kind of situation?”
“The Franson project.” He sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. “The county inspector came by this afternoon for the pre-drywall check on the guest suite addition, and we failed. Badly.”
“Oh.” I set the plate down. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not. There are issues with the electrical installation. If we don’t get this fixed immediately, it pushes back drywall, which pushes back everything else, and the Fransons are hosting a family reunion in two weeks.”
I leaned against the counter, a cold feeling settling in my stomach. “That sounds stressful.”
“It’s a nightmare.” His voice was tight with tension. “Marilyn tried handling it—she’s been on the phone with the electrical contractor all afternoon—but I need to be on site for this. I’m there now.”
The cold feeling spread. “So you’re canceling.”
A beat of silence. “I’m really sorry, Harper. I have to stay here until this is resolved, and I’ll probably need to be here first thing tomorrow too, to make sure everything’s ready for the re-inspection.”
“Well, we need to get together soon. What about the flooring samples? We have to choose something by Friday to keep the Room Block One schedule on track.”
“I know.” The strain in his voice was evident. “I was thinking maybe we could meet for lunch tomorrow to go over them. Or I could drop them off in the morning for you to look at, and then we can discuss by phone?”
Neither option would be as effective as going through them together tonight as planned, with proper time and attention. I glanced at the cleared coffee table, the space I’d made for our work together.
“It’s fine,” I said, though it wasn’t. “We’ll figure something out.”
“I’m really sorry about dinner too. I was looking forward to it. And I know Finn was excited about the LEGOs.” Chase paused. “This project, the Franson addition, is a big deal for Latitudes. They’re connected to half the property owners in their luxury beach development. If I mess this up…”
“I get it.” And I did, intellectually. But all I saw was Jarod’s face when I told him I was pregnant. “Your business needs you there.”
“Harper.” His tone took on an edge. “I can’t predict when something goes sideways on a site. It happens, and it’s my job to fix it. Look, I’ll make it up to you both. I promise. This is just—”
“An emergency. I understand.” I cut him off, unable to bear another word when disappointment was swelling inside me. “Really, it’s fine. We’re fine.”
“Are you sure? You sound—”
“I’m sure.” I forced conviction into my voice. “Go fix your client’s electrical issues. We’ll reschedule.”
Another pause. “I’ll call you later? Once I’ve got things under control here?”
“Sure.” The word came out clipped. “Let me know when you can reschedule the flooring review.”
“Harper…”
“I need to go tell Finn. Go handle what you need to handle, Chase.” I ended the call before he could respond, before my voice could betray the irrational hurt building inside me.
I stood motionless in the kitchen, staring at the three plates I’d arranged. Three plates. When had I started thinking of us as a given? When had I started expecting Chase Ashworth to be there at our table as if he belonged?
I wanted to understand. I wanted to be understanding. But the old habit of protecting myself was powerful, a shield that came up as fast as this disappointment had hit me. I tried to squash it, but I could feel my heart hardening again, cooling in a way that terrified me.
I thought of the pizza sitting in the fridge, of Finn’s hopeful smile.
My throat tightened, a sign of past betrayals affecting the present in ways I didn’t want to admit.
My response to Chase had been stark and cold, like something an ice queen would say.
But it was all I could manage in the moment. All the warmth, all the hope—gone.
Finn was in the living room, placing his toy cars in a wicker basket. He looked up, expectation shining in his eyes. I hesitated, struggling for the right words. The ones that would make it sting less.
“Sweetheart,” I started, my voice too cheerful, too bright. “Chase had an emergency at work. He can’t come for pizza tonight.”
The light in his eyes dimmed, the corners of his mouth turning down. “Oh. But we were gonna build LEGOs after…”
I kneeled beside him, smoothing a hand over his hair. “I know. I’m sorry. He feels bad, too.”
Finn nodded, a brave little nod that only made my heart ache more. He turned back to his cars, the air heavy with his quiet disappointment.
I watched him, my own hurt amplified. Especially after Finn carefully placed the half-finished LEGO spaceship on top and carried the basket to his room.
I dropped onto the couch and opened my laptop, the bright screen blurring before my eyes.
It took me a moment to realize I was staring at the renovation schedule, the tasks and deadlines so neat compared to my personal chaos.
Now this one phone call, this one cancellation, overshadowed all the progress.
I wanted to be angry, but all I felt was hurt and scared about where things stood.
I took a shaky breath and picked up my phone, debating whether to send Chase a message. Something softer, less brittle. But what if he didn’t reply until tomorrow? What if this was the start of a pattern, like last time? The thought twisted in my chest, and I set the phone down, unable to face it.
Finn returned to the living room. “When is dinner?”
I stood and pulled him to me. “Let’s get that pizza in the oven right now, sweetie.”
We walked to the kitchen, our disappointment shared but somehow lighter together. I pulled him close to me, focusing on the warmth of his small body against mine. But even with Finn here, the sense of connection I’d started to believe in felt impossibly far away.