4. Brant
Brant
I briefly consider diving in front of the Escalade strolling by. Jesse’s a prick, but he’d be backed into a corner if I needed medical attention.
Nah, too messy.
Ah, fuck me.
My boots hit the asphalt before I swing the door of my Tacoma shut.
I peek over to the house as I round the grill of my pickup.
I eye the rich and warm tones of the cedar siding.
Large, sleek windows complement the wood, enhancing the charm that’s already affected by the lush greenery and tall trees.
Jesse’s house is recessed into the half-acre of front yard space. At least that’s my rough estimate. I pull the handle of the passenger door, opening it to sling my backpack strap over my shoulder.
The smack of my truck door rings behind me, and then I reach the paver stones of the driveway. My chin slopes up to examine the contemporary roof. As much as I hate to admit it, this house is pretty striking.
My eyes squint when the beams of the sun touch my face through the unblemished sky. I plant my hands in my jeans pockets as I drop my chin, following the bend of the driveway to walk to the stone porch.
I march up the steps through the tall, wood columns, instantly greeted by the wide double-doors. My hand lifts to press the doorbell between the frame and side light. Then I’m stepping back to wait for the inevitable face-to-face.
Wafts of cedar and fragrant flowers tickle my nose when my head steers left. There’re flowerbeds stationed along the perimeter of the porch. But before I have time to dissect my surroundings, the front door clicks open.
My head whips straight, eyes meeting a good-looking guy about my age.
Jesse’s around my height. A bit lankier in build, but dressed exactly how I would expect. His lean torso is wrapped in a white dress shirt that’s tucked into black slacks, accented with shiny Oxfords.
“Brant Beckett,” I say, offering my hand to him.
He flashes a muted smile, stretching his arm out in return. “Jesse Miller. You’re young.” His eyelids fall skeptically over his espresso gaze. Then he’s burying his palm in his pants pocket.
I guarantee he’s not even three years older than me.
“I’m twenty-eight, but there’s experience under my belt,” I manage through my wise tongue.
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t realize you were my age,” he explains. “Typically, I collaborate with people older and more seasoned than me, so I just assumed …”
Called it.
I wave him off, a tight-lipped smile dressing my mouth. “Listen, I totally get it. No offense taken.”
“Alright.” He nods once, stepping aside to pry the door open some more. “Come on in.”
“Thanks,” I say as I enter the grand foyer.
My head reflexively pokes around. I stand on the marble, catching the tall ceilings and sweeping staircase on the left. “She’s a stunner,” I offer.
I pin my gaze to the formal living room straight ahead, and Jesse slips in front of me. The natural light glints along his dark and gelled hair when he responds. “Isn’t it? I couldn’t resist putting in an offer once we came to see it.”
“Oh, you’re married?”
His hands slip into his pockets when he nods. “Engaged, actually. My fiancé should be here around two-thirty or three o’clock, so maybe you two will get to meet.”
“Absolutely.” I offer a casual gesture with my hand. “It’s always good to talk to both parties about a huge project like this. Make sure everyone’s on the same page.”
His fingers absently rub the light scruff of his jaw, and he peeks around.
“Not to sound like a jerk, but I sort of have a stubborn mindset when it comes to what I want.” Then his eyes land on mine when he gestures to me.
“I’m not sure how many women you’ve been serious with, but they tend to be hyper-focused on pretty aesthetics rather than the practicality of things.
You can’t truly trust their opinion for this type of stuff. ”
You don’t sound like a jerk.
You sound like a complete asshole.
I offer a small pop of my shoulder, defending his fiancé’s honor. “It’s always nice to have a balance.” The crook of my mouth lifts to show my civility. But all I want to do is sprint through this consultation as fast as possible.
“Agree to disagree,” he says as he turns on his heel. “We can have a seat over here.”
I trail behind him as we enter the living room, only to veer right to the dining area.
Jesse drags an upholstered chair from the head spot at the long and polished wood table.
I idle myself at his left, retrieving a leather binder from my backpack.
My head lifts to spot the chef’s kitchen ahead, high-end appliances and marble countertops sprinkling my vision.
I finally occupy the seat, letting my bag drop to the wood floor. “Okay, what rooms are you looking to add in the addition of the home?”
My fingers pry the binder open to clean paper, and I untuck my pen from its holder.
“I need an entertainment room for guests,” Jesse answers. “I have a lot of clients and friends from work, so I’d like to have a space to invite them and their significant others. Or their friends, whatever. I was also thinking of another full bathroom and a couple more bedrooms.”
“Okay,” I say, finishing my notes. “This is about another twelve hundred square feet. Just by looking at the amount of property you have, that’s obviously not going to be an issue. I just want to make sure you’re okay with that big of an addition.”
“We have the room, so I’m okay with it.”
“Great.” My eyes lock on Jesse’s before continuing. “Have you thought about where you want the addition and how the layout would be?”
His forearms are planted against the tabletop, fingers interlocked. “I was thinking we could have the addition extended from the kitchen. As far as the layout, I expect you to give me your best advice on that. You’re the one getting paid to design it, not me.”
Just trying to design something that appeases your vision, but okay.
“Of course.” My lips mold into a subdued smile. “I want to suggest extending from the family room. Being that the entertainment room would be added to the first floor, it would make more sense to extend off of another family or gathering space.”
His head tilts in uncertainty, but he keeps a bold eye on me. “I might need more convincing on that, but I’m willing to look at a draft of what you can come up with. I’m kind of sold on extending from the kitchen.”
I figured you were.
“It’s just my two cents based on past experiences,” I explain, palms flipped upward. “If you’re really set on having the extension off of the kitchen, I can draft an option up for you. Then we can weigh the pros and cons from there. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good.”
My eyes are trained forward, landing on the den past the chef’s kitchen. Giant windows allow the sunrays to cast a bright glow inside the house. It’s almost peaceful sitting next to Jesse right now.
Almost.
“As far as the layout, the entertainment room and full bath should be on the first floor. The two bedrooms should be added to the second story,” I claim.
“Okay, I don’t have a problem with that. Maybe I should walk you around, so we can discuss different features as we look at the space?”
I gesture for him to lead the way as I stand. “Sure, let’s do it.”
We walk around for about twenty minutes, and with discussing the differences in extension locations, I’d like to think I’ve dug an inch in Jesse’s dense brain.
“What can I look forward to in the process after I choose a floor plan?” Jesse asks as we re-enter the dining room.
“I’ll bring in some interior designers to talk to you about finishes for floors and countertops. Then, we’ll have to discuss the types of materials you want. For example, radiant heated floors and SMART technology,” I explain.
“I only plan on doing this once, so I want to choose the best grades.”
“What budget are you looking to work with?” I ask.
“About three hundred thousand dollars. Not that it’s a problem for me to pay, but I don’t want to go over that line,” he replies.
I nod, offering a slight jerk of the shoulder. “Unfortunately, the prices of materials have drastically gone up. We may be looking at half a million dollars, minimum. The only reason I mention this is because I don’t want you to be blindsided by costs.”
“I’ve done my research,” he counters, slipping both hands in his pockets. “I’m also a real-estate investor, so I know what the costs of materials are nowadays. I think we can stick to my budget.”
Yeah, we’ll see about that.
“Luckily, there’s some time until we get to that point. And we can always manage costs when that time rolls around,” I suggest.
“Great.”
“Great,” I answer, plucking my backpack off the floor. “I’ll draft a proposal and send it to you in a couple business days.” I meet his eyes when I tuck my binder away. “After, we can discuss any modifications you’d like made. Or any other items you may think to add after today.”
“I’d like the proposal by Monday. No later,” he demands.
“I’ll get it to you by tomorrow,” I counter, draping the thick strap of my bag around my shoulder.
“Even better.” A slanted smile emerges from his lips. Victory lines his expression as he swings his arm across his chest. “Let me walk you out.”
I follow Jesse through the living room until we steer left. When we reach the marble of the foyer, he spins around just as I’m extending my hand.
“Thank you for hiring Nexis Architecture. We’re really excited about this design, and I look forward to working on it with you.”
He rests his palm in mine. “You’re very welcome. After this consultation, I’m officially excited.”
When we pull away, he opens the front door for me to pass by.
“If you have any questions, never hesitate to email or call,” I offer.
“Will do.”
I step onto the stone porch, pivoting to wave a hand. Jesse throws a tight-lipped smile before shutting the door, and then I’m traveling the curve of the paver stones. My fingers dig into my jeans pocket, extracting my keys before I greet the road.
I’m about to open the door to my truck along the curb, but a low hum rumbles behind me. My head rotates, eyes following the white Range Rover steering onto the driveway I just walked from.
A dilemma stirs inside me. My mind volleys between introducing myself to Jesse’s fiancé and avoiding the awkward introduction altogether. On the other hand, my meeting with Jesse is over. She may not even know I was coming over today for a consultation.
As soon as her engine cuts, I return my attention to my Tacoma. My palm wraps around the handle to swing the door open, and I prop a boot to hop inside.
I place my backpack on the passenger seat while reaching for the driver’s side door. But before I can pull it toward me, a ripple of thuds tumbles through the air.
My brows dip as I catch the half-mast trunk door through the windshield. Scattered cartons of milk and juice decorate the paver stones behind the Range Rover.
A groan greets the silence. “Goddammit.”
Another grunt runs from her mouth when she tosses the torn, brown bag through the air. My mouth tips up at the corner, legs swinging out of my truck when her slender frame bends in her pretty clothes.
She’s got these black heels on that gleam under the sun. A fitted skirt with a short-sleeve blouse tucked into the waistline. Her long, dark hair is ruffled in these soft curls, neatly cascading over the sides of her face as she crouches.
Of course she’s a fine-looking woman.
Figures.
My body kicks into action, lightly jogging to make sure I pick up her groceries before she has to. “Here, let me help you.”
“Oh, god!”
Her yelp leaps to my ears before she falls back on her bum.
I thrust forward, offering her my hand. “Shit, I’m really sorry,” I apologize. “I saw you dropped a few things, and well, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t stop to help a lady?” A timid chuckle emerges from my smirk, hoping she’ll forgive me. “Here.”
Her eyes flick up—just for a moment—and then she’s planting a palm over her face. She wags her head, her chest vibrating through a light laugh.
Then she molds her palm to mine.
There’s this warmth that radiates from her satin skin, and I swear it spreads to my heart.
I gently place my free hand around her upper arm, carefully tugging her to a standing position. She’s probably about five-foot-six. My six-foot-two frame towers over her as she irons her clothing out with her palms.
Then she lifts her head, and our eyes finally lock. “Thank y—”
Her words evaporate just as all the air in my chest vanishes.