Chloe stood by the refrigerator. “I know I’m a guest, but I’d like to be useful and not take advantage of Beck’s hospitality. Can I get you something to eat or drink?” she asked Drew. “Let’s see what we have.” She opened the door and glanced inside.
“Chloe doesn’t have to serve you,” Beck said.
“I don’t mind.” She turned to face him and he shook his head.
“My brothers can get their own food or drink, but they didn’t come here to eat. Now that you’ve met my new houseguest, maybe you can head home?” Beck suggested.
Tripp stepped up beside Chloe and glanced into the fridge, pulling out a can of Diet Coke and popping the top. “Actually, I spoke to Mom and Dad this morning, and I wanted to fill you guys in. So when Drew said he was coming by, I wanted to join him.”
Chloe glanced at each of them. “I’m going to go back to my room and give you all some privacy. I just came out to tell you that I ordered clothes to be delivered here later today. Everything in my suitcase is for a honeymoon.” She folded her arms across her chest and her cheeks flushed pink. “It was nice to meet you both. Today. When I’m not drunk. Never mind.” She spun on her heel and walked out fast.
“Well. I hope you’re happy. You’ve embarrassed her.” Beck scowled, knowing he was going to have to apologize to her later.
But Tripp had said he was here about their parents, and Beck’s gut had been telling him something was wrong. “Now what’s going on with Mom and Dad?” Beck asked, gesturing for them to follow him into the more comfortable family room.
They settled in and Drew spoke first. “Sorry I jumped to conclusions about Chloe. I just wanted to make sure this wasn’t some kind of setup by her brother.”
“You’re paranoid,” Beck muttered. “Chill out, be nice to her and you’re forgiven.” He glanced at Tripp. “Spill it.”
Tripp leaned forward in his seat on the couch. “I called this morning and pushed them for answers because Drew was right. Dad does look like he lost weight, and he didn’t eat much of his favorite meal.”
Tripp was the doctor in the family. If he was worried, then Beck’s concern was warranted. “So what did they say?” he asked, turning his hands into fists and gripping hard.
“Dad has a colonoscopy next week. They didn’t want to say anything and worry us. The good news is he just started feeling crappy. He hasn’t put anything off, so if they find something, it’s probably early stages.” He glanced at Drew, who nodded before pinning Beck with a steady stare. “You heard me, right?”
“Yeah. I heard you.” Beck had a tendency to jump to worst-case scenarios when it came to health scares.
The summer before Whitney passed away, they’d spent a lot of time together making her never-ending lists. Tripp hadn’t been able to handle it and hadn’t spent the same kind of time with her that Beck had, while Drew had been volunteering at the public defender’s office to boost his academic resume for his ultimate goal of law school. Leaving in the fall, less than a month after Whitney had died, hadn’t been easy.
“Snap out of it,” Tripp said. “We don’t know anything, so don’t go spiraling into all the horrible possibilities. Go with what we know, which is he’s having a test next week. That’s all.”
Beck braced his hands on his thighs and rose to his feet. “You’re right. And I’m fine.” No need to tell them he was worried sick. They probably already knew and felt the same way.
They hung out and talked for another half an hour before saying their goodbyes. Waiting until he knew they were gone and on their way, Beck called his parents to gauge for himself what was going on and how his dad was doing.
* * *
Chloe hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on Beck and his brothers earlier. Unable to take feeling confined to a bedroom, she’d headed back out to the main part of the loft when she’d heard their voices.
She hadn’t caught much. Just their concern about Beck letting Chloe stay here. Because she was a Kingston. Once again, she was curious about Linc and Beck’s history and wondered if, at some point, she’d be able to ask one of them about it. She didn’t take his brother’s concerns personally.
If she let a stranger move in with her, her siblings would hit the roof, and if one of them brought an unknown woman into their place to live, she’d freak out, too. She was just glad Beck had family he was close with, like she did. Who knew? Maybe at some point she’d get to know Tripp and Drew and even win them over. She had a ways to go considering her behavior last night, she thought, cringing at the reminder.
She pulled off her boots, settled on the bed, and thought back to their conversation earlier about taking chances. Leaning over, she picked up the handbag she’d placed on the floor beside the bed and pulled out a piece of paper she’d been walking around with for weeks. The deadline to enter a prestigious design contest was coming up soon, one she’d been debating on whether or not to compete in.
The winner of the Online Interior Design Professional’s Contest would receive a contract with Elevate Designs, an innovative online site that combined hiring an online designer with a tactile experience for the homeowner, sending them a curated box of paint chips, spec cards, and color and fabric samples. They catered to higher-end clientele who lacked the time to meet in person or go to showrooms to look at items but who wanted to spend on luxury.
Elevate was nothing like a mass site that hired any designer with a portfolio. Located in LA, they were looking to have a New York City office, and the winner would be the person in charge. The entire thing was a risk, and Chloe was not known to be a risk-taker. But she’d still been preparing as if she intended to jump in.
In her free time, she’d learned various software applications that would let her lay out rooms and designs and had spent heaven only knew how many hours working on concepts, because she couldn’t use anything she’d designed for Linc’s business. Not with how conservative and staid his tastes ran. She’d been creating online rooms with 3D planner software, along with interactive and virtual floor plan designs.
With her supplier contacts, she’d also be able to decorate in the modern way she’d been dying to do. She’d put off having fabric and material samples sent to her until after her honeymoon. Since that wouldn’t be happening, she emailed and arranged to have everything sent here. Although she would include images, she still needed to touch and feel the quality of materials for herself.
But entering meant stepping out of her comfort zone. If she won, and that was a long shot, it meant leaving the security of her job with Linc. And despite being frustrated with his safe way of doing things, she understood why he chose that direction. After all, hadn’t she done the same thing by staying in her unfulfilling job and choosing her safe, or so she’d thought, ex-fiancé?
The slam of the apartment door jarred her out of her musings, and the muffled voices she’d heard earlier were gone. Beck’s brothers had probably left. She gave Beck some more alone time before deciding it was okay to head back to the family room.
She found him staring out one of the windows, hands in his front pants pockets. Viewing him from behind was a treat. Broad shoulders and obvious muscles bunched on his upper arms and back, his rolled-up sleeves revealed tanned skin, and though his shirt was still untucked, she had a view of his ass and the back of his strong thighs in those dark jeans.
She didn’t think she’d ever stopped to study Owen this way and knew, if she had, she’d have found him lacking in comparison.
Shaking off thoughts of her ex-fiancé, she cleared her throat to announce her presence. “Hi. Am I interrupting?”
He turned to face her. “No. I was just thinking.”
His brother had come to talk about his parents, but from the closed-off look on his face, she decided not to ask any personal questions.
“Your brothers left?” she asked.
He nodded. “And I wanted to apologize. They can be assholes.”
She laughed at that. “I have three of them, remember? I know. And there�
��s nothing to apologize for. They were just looking out for you. I mean, we just met last night. At least officially. I kind of remember you from the time my parents and I visited Linc in college.”
He narrowed his gaze. “How old were you? Ten?”
“Eleven. But I’m twenty-five now.” Like her brother, he was thirty-two. Seven years apart. Not that it mattered. There was nothing going on between them. “Is everything okay with your brothers?” She figured that was a simple enough question.
“They’re fine but my father’s going for a test sometime next week. He’s lost some weight and we’re all worried about him.” Beck’s jaw clenched tight, and she realized how badly this was affecting him.
Walking over, she put a hand on his forearm, her fingers coming into contact with warm flesh. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”
“Thanks,” he said in a gruff voice. “Are you all settled in?” he asked, changing the subject.
She nodded. “Except for the clothing situation, but I have personal shoppers who will be sending things over this afternoon so I’ll be set for a while. All my stuff is boxed up at my mother’s, and it was just simpler to handle it this way.”
“Do you have a plan? I know you said you’re taking this week off from work. To do what?” he asked.
“I was just thinking about that,” she murmured, not quite ready to share her dreams and fears with anyone. “And I’m unsure.”
He nodded. “Then let’s tackle something simpler. How about dinner? Want to go out or order in?”
She knew the answer without having to think. “Order in. I’m not ready to face the world.” She’d seen the gossipy mentions of her situation online and hated it.
“You got it, princess.”
She liked the nickname he’d given her, not for the name itself but the fact that he was using one.
They agreed on Chinese food, and her clothing came while they were waiting for the delivery. She hung everything in her closet, planning to try things on and get back to the stylist in the morning. At least now she had seasonal clothing to wear.
She joined Beck in the kitchen, and they shared a meal of delicious General Tso’s chicken, fried rice, pork dumplings, and she had an egg roll, her favorite part of any Chinese dinner.
Feeling full, she turned to him. “Are you finished?”
He nodded. “Totally full.” He grabbed his plate and she shook her head.
“I’ve got it. I need to earn my keep,” she said, only partly joking, as she rose to her feet.
His frown was as sexy as his smile. “I offered you a place to stay. You don’t have to earn anything.”
“Well, then just let me help.” She picked up his plate and hers and walked over to the sink.
After rinsing them off and putting everything in the dishwasher, she turned to find him placing the leftovers in the fridge. One container was still left on the table.
She grabbed it and came up behind him. “Here’s the last one.” Reaching around him, she placed the box on a shelf at the same time he turned her way, bumping into her.
His hand snaked out and grasped her waist, and they were face-to-face, their bodies in close contact. Heat erupted between them despite the chill of the refrigerator.
Her lips parted and she said the first thing that came to mind. “Thank you for being here for me.” Which sounded much better than Oh my God, you’re so hot.
He raised his hand, brushed her hair off her face, and cupped her cheek. “You’re welcome.”
She lifted onto her toes, intending to press her lips to his jaw. A little thank-you. Instead he turned his head and her lips met his.
She hadn’t meant to kiss him, but with the firm touch of his mouth on hers, she couldn’t bring herself to move away. Neither did he, and what began as an accident quickly accelerated into something more. Something intense, unexpected, and wholly new, and at the touch of their tongues, sparks ignited.
Beck’s hand came to rest on the back of her neck, gripping her possessively and holding her in place while he kissed her for all he was worth. Enjoying every moment, she slid her hands through his hair and pressed herself against his hard body.
He groaned and delved deeper into her mouth. She wasn’t sure how long they stood entangled in each other, but she was aware of two things. She’d never been kissed like this before, and she wanted more. More of the rising desire inside her and more of Beck.
Without warning, he braced his hands on her shoulders and broke their connection. “Chloe, no. This is wrong.”
She blinked in surprise. Cold, refrigerated air replaced his warmth, and the recognition of another rejection rushed through her. “You’re right. This was a mistake.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she stepped back.
He followed and closed the refrigerator door, obviously taking a moment before turning back to face her. It hadn’t been enough time for her to pull herself together and fake being unaffected by his brush-off. It didn’t matter. Considering she’d not only instigated the kiss but was a guest in his home, she owed him an apology.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I only meant it as a thank-you, but you turned your head and…” She trailed off, not wanting to rehash her embarrassment. “You’ve been kind, and if I made things awkward and you want me to leave, just say so.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said in a gruff tone. “And you have nothing to apologize for because that kiss wasn’t a mistake.” His green-eyed gaze met hers, and it was anything but disinterested or dispassionate.
“Then why did you say it was wrong?” She cocked her head to one side, waiting for him to explain.
“That’s easy. Because when we sleep together, and we will, it won’t be because you’re grateful or on the rebound. It will be because you can’t think of anyone but me.” His heated stare raked over her, his desire for her unmistakable, before he turned and walked out of the room, leaving her stunned. And more than a little bit turned on.
Chapter Four
A week had passed since Chloe moved in with Beck. A week during which she’d given herself permission to grieve – not Owen but the life she’d thought she’d be living. Yes, a part of her wanted marriage and children with the right man, and she’d thought she’d been taking her first step in that direction.
Instead she was forced to confront her choices, and she wasn’t happy with what she saw. A woman who’d graduated from college with a major in interior design but who’d taken the easy route, going into the family business and listening to her brother’s dictates on layout, color schemes, and style. A woman who did as her family expected. One who chose a man because he was unlike her father in his moral compass, or so she’d thought, not because she was madly in love with him.
When she looked back, she realized Owen had talked her into the engagement, using all the buzzwords he knew would entice her, from them being a good fit to their wanting the same things to the fact that her parents approved. And when her father had been diagnosed with dementia, she’d fallen back into the pattern of a girl wanting to make her dad happy. She’d been holding on to the ideal of a parent who loved his family but lacked the ability to be faithful. But her brothers hadn’t liked Owen, and that should have been her major clue.
She just hadn’t wanted to hear it. Basically she’d been dancing to everyone’s beat but her own.
She hopped off the bed and picked up the box with the samples that had been delivered midweek. Having already looked them over, she knew she’d chosen well. From tile to paint and everything else, she’d touched, ensured they were perfect.
Screw it, she thought, grabbing her laptop and pulling up the entry form for the contest that was already filled out and saved. She just needed to hit send, pay the fee, and when she was ready, forward her submission.
It was time she stood on her own two feet, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous and scared about taking that step away from her family. She was well aware of how sheltered she’d been a
nd wanted that to change. But, though she knew what she had to do, she wasn’t about to share the news with anyone. If she failed and didn’t final, let alone win, nobody had to know but her.
Drawing a deep breath, she filled in the credit card form and hit the enter button, then forced a calming breath as it processed. Finally the acceptance page appeared on the screen. There. She’d done it.
Step one toward independence.
* * *
Beck walked into the building where his office was located. Normally the sight of the property he owned, this place in particular, gave him immense pleasure. The 1930s hotel-like feel, with its black-steel-framed windows, the brushed brass fixtures, and glamorous décor let him swell with well-earned pride. Coming from a background where money was tight, he’d worked his way here and never let himself forget it.
Today, not even the reminder of success gave him the peace he needed. He sat at his desk, distracted for multiple reasons. His father’s colonoscopy was at nine a.m., and his mother wouldn’t let Beck or his brothers sit with her while she waited. She insisted everything was fine, the procedure was routine, and she’d be home with his dad in no time.
So he had to wait for her phone call, which left him at loose ends and with time on his hands. He couldn’t concentrate on work, and that let him think about his houseguest.
Beck had been living under the same roof as Chloe Kingston for a little over one week. She was an easy houseguest, careful to clean up not just after herself but him, wanting to make herself useful and show her gratitude. She didn’t act like a spoiled princess despite his nickname for her, which had stuck. But as easy as she was to have around, that was as hard as she was to forget.
He was constantly aware of her. Cooking in his kitchen and sharing meals, curled up on the sofa in the family room, reading on an iPad or staring at the screen as if she had a lot on her mind, and sleeping across the hall from him. Her light cinnamon scent lingered everywhere she went, keeping him in a perpetual state of arousal. Especially after that kiss.
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