by Aurora Rey
Once they’d settled in, Lauren folded her hands and rested them on the table. So confident, so calm. Cam wiped her own hands on her trousers and tried not to fidget.
Lauren didn’t waste time on small talk. “I’ve worked up a few ideas, but I’d like to start with your thoughts.”
She thought about how amazing Lauren looked in that tight skirt and fitted blouse, all business. She thought about how badly she wanted to kiss Lauren, to pull the pins from her hair and watch it tumble around her shoulders. But she was pretty sure that’s not what Lauren had in mind. “About Carriage House?”
“Yes. When we talked initially, you said you thought of it as the younger, more modern sibling of Barrister’s.”
She thought back to that initial conversation. She’d found Lauren beautiful then, too, and had given more than a passing thought to kissing her. “Right. I want it to appeal to everyone, obviously, but the target is a younger demographic. People not already drinking Barrister’s.”
Lauren pointed at her. “Exactly. New customer base. And given the cocktail renaissance sweeping the twenty-something crowd, the timing couldn’t be better.”
Cam winced. “You aren’t going to suggest Jet Skis, are you? Or sports cars? I’m not sure I could handle that.”
Lauren huffed and gave her a stern look. It was far sexier than it had any right to be. “Do you really think so little of me?”
“No, she thinks that little of anyone under the age of thirty,” Charlotte said from her place behind the bar.
Lauren raised a brow, seemingly amused.
“Okay, that part might be true.” She might be only a few years removed from her twenties, but she’d felt like a serious adult for as long as she could remember, and she didn’t have a lot of patience for the reckless or the rowdy.
Lauren sat up straighter and squared her shoulders. “The goal is to sell, not become a sellout. We’re not going to do anything you can’t feel good about.”
Cam sighed. It was one thing for Lauren to be beautiful. But every time she turned around, Lauren had to go and surprise her with some other appealing trait—being nice, having integrity, caring about her opinion. It was making her damn near irresistible. “I appreciate that.”
“Now, tell me how you think of Carriage House. Four words.”
“Four?”
Again with the stern look. “Four.”
“Fresh. Bright. Modern.” Cam paused, suddenly self-conscious. Was this even what Lauren meant? Or was she completely off the mark?
“Those are really good.” Lauren smiled at her encouragingly.
“I’m not sure I have a fourth.”
“That’s okay. I think you’re right on the mark. I’d add sophisticated, but accessible.”
Cam nodded slowly. She’d never have come up with either of those, but they rang true. “Yes. That’s perfect.”
“Great. Thank you for indulging me. I wanted to make sure we were on the same page before I started pitching you ideas.” She opened the portfolio she’d come in with. “I’ve worked out four possible concepts.”
She’d expected some general thoughts, maybe an idea for a print ad or the website. But Lauren pulled out four large pieces of paper, complete with sketches, color palettes, and tag lines. Not a Jet Ski to be had. “Wow.”
“If there are elements you like from more than one, we can potentially combine, but I don’t want to try to send too many messages at once, if that makes sense. It just waters everything down.”
“It does.” She liked the analogy. And even if she’d hated the concepts, she would have appreciated the work Lauren put into putting them together. But she didn’t hate them. She liked them, the whole lot.
“Is there one that immediately speaks to you?”
Visually, Cam had a favorite. The imagery included a group of friends at a dinner party—not formal, but not pizza and dungarees either. The eight or so people were racially diverse and sharply dressed and one of the couples appeared queer. They probably couldn’t use that exact photo, but it spoke to the vibe she wanted. The colors that went with it—mostly greens with a splash of dark blue—suited her existing logo and label. Still. She wasn’t sure she was supposed to just pick one. “Yes, but I’d love it if you’d explain each of them to me.”
Lauren smiled, slow and satisfied. It was the tiniest crack in her professional poise and sexy as hell. “I’d be happy to.”
“All right. Tell me about this one.” Cam pointed to the one she considered a little too manly—not too manly for her, but for an overall identity for Carriage House.
Lauren tipped her head back and forth. “This one is geared toward the twenty-something guy, the one who sports a lumberjack beard but designer shoes. I think you could get a lot of traction with this, with a share of the market that buys a lot of alcohol.”
“But?”
“But I think it’s a little too narrow. And since we aren’t looking to launch a multi-faceted campaign at the moment, it might not be the way to go.”
“Makes sense.” Cam wouldn’t have used those words, but her sentiments were the same. “What about this one?”
Lauren walked her through one that was more feminine and one that had a real city vibe. Each time, Lauren detailed what she considered the pros and cons. Until they got to the last one. It didn’t take long for Cam to see it was Lauren’s favorite as well.
Excitement bubbled out of her like a proud parent talking about her kid. The fact that Lauren’s enthusiasm came from talking about her work resonated with Cam. Having the subject matter be her gin, the closest thing she had at this point in life to a child of her own, stirred something else. Affection, maybe. Paired with the attraction she couldn’t seem to shake, it left her wanting. She shook her head, a physical gesture to deny just how potent it was.
“You don’t like this one.” Lauren’s smile remained, but disappointment shone in her eyes.
Cam shook her head more emphatically. “No, I love it. I think it’s the one.”
“Really? Because you’re frowning.” The disappointment gave way to suspicion.
“I, uh, was getting ahead of myself. This is definitely the one.” Cam tapped the piece of paper with her finger.
Lauren seemed to take that answer at face value. She nodded slowly. “I agree. It’s the one I’d have picked, too.”
A tendril of hair had escaped Lauren’s updo, and Cam fought the urge to take it between her fingers, tuck it behind Lauren’s ear. “So, why did you show me the others?”
“Because it’s your brand and your decision.”
There was a hint of mischief there. Yet another crack in the rigid professionalism. “But what if I’d chosen one of the others?”
“You wouldn’t have,” she said with a wicked grin. “I wouldn’t have let you.”
Cam chuckled because she knew it was true. It didn’t surprise her that Lauren had that kind of influence or confidence. What surprised her was how much she liked it. “Fair do’s.”
“Excellent. I’ll work up a more comprehensive package and we can discuss photography, design, and the media channels you’re going to start with. Oh, and a website. I think we should build a whole new web presence, linked to Barrister’s but not a child of it.”
And just like that, they were back to business. Or maybe they’d never really left. She hated not knowing if Lauren shared her feelings, which left her even more off kilter than being attracted to Lauren in the first place. “Is this part of my package or will it cost extra?”
“About that.”
Cam braced herself. “Yeah?”
“I hear you’re good at DIY stuff. Finishing furniture and whatnot.”
Cam glanced across the pub at Charlotte. She’d made a show of keeping busy, but clearly had been eavesdropping because she looked up and shrugged. Cam said, “It’s a hobby. I’m no expert.”
“But you’ve done it before.”
“A handful of times.” Where was she going with this?
“How would you feel about an addendum to our arrangement?”
How did this woman manage to make a mundane negotiation sound sexual? Or was it just her? Again, hugely frustrating. “What are you proposing?”
“I picked up a few pieces of furniture and could use some help refinishing them.”
“You did?” Lauren did not strike her as the do-it-yourself type.
Lauren offered her a shrug and a coy smile. “I’m going for authenticity.”
Cam chuckled. Well played. “And if I help you, you’ll make me a website?”
“Seems like a fair trade.”
As far as Cam was concerned, she was getting the far better end of that arrangement. But if Lauren thought it was fair, who was she to argue? Cam stuck out her hand. “Deal.”
Lauren shook her hand and beamed. “I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
No, she didn’t figure she would.
Chapter Twelve
Cam stood in the center of the tiny garage and surveyed the assortment of mismatched chairs and a small table Lauren said she wanted to use as a writing desk. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
Lauren planted her hands on her hips. “You’re the one who said she was handy.”
She hadn’t, actually. Charlotte had. “I am.”
“Which is really good because I am not.”
“Wait. What do you mean?” She’d agreed to help refinish furniture in exchange for a new website. That had somehow expanded to include a professional photo shoot for Carriage House and carpet removal in two of the rooms at the inn. In both cases, she figured Lauren had experience but wanted help.
“Other than assembling some IKEA furniture in college, I’ve never DIYed anything in my life.”
Surely she was joking. No sane woman would tackle a project like this if she literally had no idea what she was doing.
“But I have above average intelligence and I work out.”
Cam looked Lauren up and down. She wouldn’t argue with the part about working out. No, with her lean legs and toned arms, Lauren appeared to have that part in spades. She was smart, too, from what Cam had seen. Maybe a bit of a know-it-all, but smart. “But you don’t know what you’re doing.”
Lauren shrugged. “That’s why I have you.”
This had disaster written all over it. Even if Lauren let her take the lead—which seemed unlikely, even given the circumstances—projects like the ones she had in mind could go sideways quickly. Technically, that wasn’t her problem. “Does this mean you’re going to follow directions?”
Lauren smirked. It was a good look for her. “I am capable of that, you know. I’ve worked for someone else my whole career.”
Despite the playfulness of the comment, a shadow passed through her eyes. Cam wanted to ask her about it, get her to open up. That would make things personal, though. Getting personal with Lauren seemed even more hazardous than a novice operating power tools. She cleared her throat. “Right, then. I’ll be happy to boss you around.”
The shadow passed and Lauren grinned in earnest. “Excellent. I mean, really, how hard could it be?”
“Famous last words, woman. Famous last words.” She attached a circle of medium grit to the sander and demonstrated the proper motions and pressure. Lauren nodded and had a look of intense concentration on her face. Cam took her level of focus as a good sign.
“Got it,” she said.
“For the chairs you’re painting, and the legs of this table, you don’t have to be super precise. The top of the table is where it really matters.”
“Right. That makes sense.”
She liked Lauren agreeing with her. Maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea after all. “It makes the job a lot easier. Smoothing out a nice flat surface is far simpler that getting into all the crannies.”
“I read that on Pinterest. That’s how I decided what to paint and what to stain.”
“What’s Pinterest?” she asked before she could help herself and regretted it the moment the question was out of her mouth.
“It’s like an online pin board where you can collect ideas for—oh, never mind.”
Cam lifted both hands, sorry her thoughts were so transparent. “What? I was listening.”
“Yeah, but you should have seen your face. It was super judgy.”
Was it? Maybe a little. She’d need to be more careful. Nothing seemed to get by Lauren. It was irritating, but also impressive. “Simply curious, I swear.”
“Likely story.”
Cam handed her the sander. She didn’t want to start an argument. Not that this seemed in any real danger of turning into an argument. No, this back-and-forth sat on the cusp of something more dangerous—the kind of flirty banter that would end in her kissing Lauren. As appealing as that was, it couldn’t possibly end well.
“So, we sand now?”
Cam cleared her throat. “We sand.”
Lauren hit the power button. When it began to vibrate in her hands, she jumped and let out a yelp. To her credit, she didn’t drop it. She looked at Cam and, instead of looking embarrassed, she laughed. Like, really laughed. If Cam thought she wanted to kiss her before, she’d been mistaken. The desire jangling though her right now, that’s what it felt like to want to kiss someone.
“You all right?” Cam asked.
Lauren nodded.
“Don’t forget this.” Cam reached over and pulled the mask into place.
“Thanks.” The word came out muffled, but the sentiment was clear.
Cam pulled on her own mask and gestured for Lauren to get started. She brought the sander down to the seat of the chair and went to town. She didn’t flinch or hesitate. She wasn’t entirely graceful about it, but for her first time, it wasn’t bad. Cam went to work on the legs of the table, alternating between a sanding block and a steel brush.
She told herself she needed to keep an eye on Lauren, make sure she didn’t hurt herself or get too carried away with the sander. The reality was that Cam couldn’t stop staring. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration behind the safety glasses. The way the oversize T-shirt that read “Fine like wine” left one of her shoulders exposed. The way she’d pulled all her hair into this messy bun that made Cam’s fingers itch to tug it free.
Lauren glanced her way and shut off the sander. She pulled the mask down with her free hand. “What? Am I doing it wrong?”
“No, no. Not at all.”
“Why are you giving me a funny look, then? If I’m not doing it right, I want to know. How else will I learn?”
The adamant tone made Cam smile. It also made her all the more embarrassed to have been caught staring. “You’re doing great. I was just watching.”
Lauren narrowed her eyes.
“I swear.”
“Okay.” Lauren put the mask back in place and restarted the sander.
Cam resisted the urge to shake her head. She needed to get a grip. If she and Lauren were going to spend time together—and it seemed like they’d agreed to spend all sorts of time together—she needed to not act like a complete fool. She definitely couldn’t let on just how much Lauren had been creeping into her thoughts, even when they weren’t together. She resumed sanding, putting more muscle into it than was perhaps necessary.
Maybe she could rope Charlotte into some of their meetings. The buffer of a third person might help, and she trusted Charlotte’s opinion. Although if Charlotte caught wind of Cam’s attraction, Cam would never hear the end of it. That might prove even worse than all this alone time with Lauren.
What a mess.
* * *
After thanking Cam and wishing her a good evening, Lauren returned to the garage. She surveyed their progress and smiled. Thanks to Cam’s knowledge, not to mention her power tools, they’d accomplished more than she’d hoped. She just needed to let the first coat of paint dry and she could put on the second. If she did that tonight before bed, they’d be able to tackle the floors the next time Cam came over.
She’d not admitte
d as much to Cam, but she was a bit nervous about them. In her world, that was the sort of project one left to the experts. But her funds were running uncomfortably low, and Cam had insisted they could do it. The thing was, she trusted Cam. That might be the real kicker. What had started out as a barter of services had turned into much more. Friendship, maybe, however unlikely that might have seemed in the beginning.
Of course, that wasn’t even factoring in the attraction. She tipped her head back and forth. Yes, the attraction complicated things. On top of everything, it seemed to be waxing instead of waning. At the rate things were going, she wouldn’t be able to keep ignoring it and hoping for the best.
Lauren shook her head. She’d worry about that later. Now, she needed to clean up for her talk with Mrs. Lucas about the pub menu. She headed in the side door and to her room, or rather, her new room. She’d decided to move into the small apartment downstairs where Albert had lived. Although the idea made her uncomfortable at first, it was the right decision. Not only did it include a small kitchen and sitting area, her being there freed up a guest room she hoped to have booked before too long.
She’d resisted the urge to redecorate it completely, but new bedding and some throw pillows made it feel more like hers. Oh, and a matching bed for Tilly. She’d ordered a fancy memory foam one online and Tilly had taken right to it. Yes, her snoring had gotten worse, but Lauren couldn’t bring herself to be bothered.
She stripped off her dusty clothes and headed into the bathroom. She set the water fairly cool and stepped under the spray, appreciating the jolt to her senses as much as ridding herself of the sawdust that had settled onto every inch of her. While she lathered and loofahed her body, her thoughts drifted to Cam. Wondering if Cam was in the shower right now, too. Wondering what it might feel like to slide soapy and slippery fingers over Cam’s skin.
