Miller's Time (Southern Charmers Series Book 2)

by Ahren Sanders

  "That's a better idea," Stephanie agrees. "Grab your folders and show us what you've put together."

  "You men take your time. We'll be out there." Ashlyn grabs a stack of folders, evading my eyes, and goes through the open space with the women behind her. I catch the glare Darby shoots Pierce's way before she's out of sight. He's unaffected, his attention on the walls and ceiling leading up the staircase. Evin goes with him as I walk the main floor, forcing myself to focus.

  The spacious rooms surprise me. I was expecting a choppier layout. Without seeing the architectural drawings, I make assumptions on the rooms, which are all empty. Then I round the corner to find a set of French doors open to a large room I believe would be the original parlor. Ashlyn has set herself up in this room. A bed is situated against the wall, a small television on a side table, the built-in seat at the bay window strewn with papers, folders, a laptop, and several sketches. Another item that catches my eye is a cooler in the corner. When I open it, I chuckle at the three bottles of wine and waters on ice. The woman has her priorities.

  "Miller?" Pierce calls out.

  "In the front room."

  He and Evin find me, and Pierce is holding his work phone, snapping pictures. "Three bedrooms upstairs, one sizable suite. Two baths, hall closet, basic stuff. Wood rot in the trim, but no mold that I can spot. The other stuff seems cosmetic. Know more when we get a plumber and electrician out here."

  "Same. Basics down here. Kitchen, dining, living rooms, this parlor or den, another sizable bedroom with ensuite, and a half bath. Need to check the basement."

  "I will remind you, from the conversation I had with her, she's wanting top to bottom on this place. It will not be easy," Evin advises again. He's been in contact with her regarding financing.

  "You don't have to tell me. I lived this shit." Pierce refers to his wide-scale renovations.

  "Lucky for you, this is on me." Yeah, this is completely on me.

  He stares at me a beat then shakes his head, grinning. "Let's go talk to her and see what exactly we're getting ourselves into."

  We walk through the downstairs again, them seeing the layout, and find the women crowded around a table on a patio. The screened-in room has a set of doors that leads to a deck and significant back yard. Unfortunately, the backyard is as overgrown as the front.

  Darby is the only one who glances up, her face beaming with excitement. I step behind Ashlyn and peer over her shoulder to see drawings similar to the ones in her room. The familiar scent of her perfume hits me, sending another round of memories popping into my head. As if she feels my presence, her back straightens and her shoulders square.

  "Those are good. Are they professional?" I point to her kitchen sketch.

  "No, it's all me. I tried to replicate what I've picked up in my research."

  I almost forgot Evin's previous warning that she’s an HGTV junkie. "Well, it's an excellent start. Once we get an assessment from our plumbing and electric crew, I'll need a copy of these to create a scale drawing. It may help if you do a quick walkthrough and point out any major changes you want to make in the structure."

  "Changes?"

  "Knocking down walls, adding doors, tearing out vanities… those things."

  Her eyes squint, and she angles her head, looking at me with confusion. "Is this part of the referral process? Shouldn't that be done with the contractor I choose after interviewing?"

  Darby squeaks, ducking her chin to her chest, her shoulders shaking. Stephanie widens her smile.

  "You want to interview contractors?"

  "I thought that's how this works."

  "You could do that, I suppose." I rock back on my feet, crossing my arms. "Seems like a waste of time, though, considering I'm already here."

  Her eyes dart between Pierce and me. "Darby said Pierce was too busy."

  "He is, but I've decided to take on the project."

  "And he approved?"

  This time Darby can't hold in her laugh, and she reaches out to pinch me on the arm. "Quit messing with her. Ashlyn, Miller is Pierce's brother and part owner of Kendrick Construction. He doesn't ask Pierce for permission for much."

  Her creamy skin turns a deep shade of pink and her eyes fill with panic. I hold back my amusement when the realization dawns on her. The man she met was traveling and worked in construction. I left out the fact I partially owned the company. She blows out a breath, trying to remain unshaken, but the splotches continue up her neck. "I'm such an idiot. I didn't get your last name earlier, Miller." Her cheeks now flame.

  As much as I like the color heating her skin, I don't want this to get awkward for her. "It's not a problem. You still think you want to interview contractors?"

  "Ummm, no. I think we're good here."

  "Then how about doing a walkthrough with me?"

  She pastes on the smile from earlier and my chest tightens. Her shields are locking into place. "Sure, maybe Pierce should join us so there's no confusion."

  This time I don't hold back my amusement at her tactic to avoid being alone with me. "Sure, whatever you want, Ashlyn." Her name rolls off my tongue in a way that tells her I'm onto her.

  She jumps out of her chair and brushes past me, her face impassive as she explains her ideas. I pick up on the major points but can't ignore the voice in my head.

  Oh yeah, this is going to be fun.

  •—•—•—•—•

  "Having problems?" I lean against the wall, enjoying the show.

  Her head whips around, her expression red-hot with frustration. "Lefty-Loosey my ass. This bolt won't budge!" Ashlyn stabs at the bolt with her screwdriver.

  "That's why I told you I'd be back to help."

  "I wanted to try. It's driving me crazy sitting around doing nothing."

  "Do you know how to change out locks?"

  She blows out a breath, rising from her crouched position. "I watched a video."

  "They make it look easy." I refrain from rolling my eyes. "Most likely, the video you watched isn't geared toward a lock that's been in place for decades. A power tool will get the job done much faster."

  She lets out a little laugh, the frustration draining. "Men and their power tools."

  "Don't knock it, darlin'." I use the pet name I used many times during our days together.

  She jerks, recognition flaring, then shakes her head, dropping the screwdriver on the countertop in defeat. "Fine, tell me you have something with you."

  "Drill’s in my truck. Also, I brought you something."

  "What could you possibly bring me?"

  "You'll see."

  She follows me outside and makes a brief sound when she sees the mini-fridge in the bed of my truck. "You bought me a refrigerator?"

  "Figured that cooler in your room can only hold so much. And the one in your kitchen is useless."

  "I know it's also scary inside. I was going to buy one this week."

  "You don't have to. Saved you a trip."

  Her gaze grows glossy, and she stares at me in wonder. It's obvious she's battling something.

  "Hey, it's just a fridge. You needed one, and I had it lying around."

  She jerks out of her haze, indifference sliding onto her features. "That was very thoughtful. I'll pay you for it."

  "Unnecessary."

  "Of course it is. This is a business relationship and I'd rather not be slapped with a bill down the line." An attitude of superiority clicks into place.

  "We gonna play it that way, Lily?"

  She stiffens. "I was wondering when that would come up."

  "Fuck yeah, it's gonna come up. Wanna tell me why you lied to me about your name and disappeared before daylight without even a call?"

  "It's not like we exchanged numbers or contact information. Our time was done." Her voice is firm, but there's an underlying sadness there.

  "Bullshit, we can exchange bodily fluids but you couldn't even give me your actual name or leave a number when you snuck away?"

  This time she jolts,
a fire blazing in her expression. "Don't be an asshole. It wasn’t sneaking away. I had somewhere to be."

  "You couldn't find the decency to say goodbye?"

  "It was easier my way. No complications, no messy goodbyes, no hassle."

  "You mean no way I could get your damn phone number and possibly find out more about you?"

  "We knew the stakes! I lived in Chicago, and you were visiting. Neither of us wanted more!"

  "You mean you didn't want more." I know I've struck a nerve when she cringes and drops her chin to her chest.

  "Is working together going to be a problem?" she mumbles, not looking up.

  "Nope, but keep your fucking money, Ashlyn."

  "You work for me."

  "No, I work for me. But if it makes you feel better to think that, have at it." There's no disguising my pissed off vibe.

  Her mouth snaps shut, and irritation flames again. I go to the back of the truck, yank open the tailgate, and lift the fridge. "It'd be helpful if you could get the door." She picks up on the sharp edge to my tone, rushing up the steps to hold open the door. I put it in the corner of her room, plug it in, and go back to my truck to haul in my toolbox. Within fifteen minutes, the front locks are changed and a new deadbolt in place. All the while, she stands back, quietly watching me.

  Her phone rings from another room, and she leaves me alone to take the call. I move to the kitchen to work on the back door, and even with the sound of the drill, I hear her arguing with someone.

  "Andrew, I'm done having this conversation repeatedly. This is my life, my money, and my choice. You do not factor into this decision. It's time all of you get on board. This is happening and I'm excited about it. You can shove this self-righteousness up your ass." She ends her rant with a little scream before the sound of her stomping her feet travels through the empty house.

  A few minutes later, she comes in and leans against the counter with a glass of wine.

  "Would you like a drink?" she offers, breaking the silence.

  "Don't drink wine."

  "A bottle of water?"

  "All hydrated." I drill the last screw in place and check the key to make sure everything is tight.

  "I was rude earlier."

  I don't respond, putting away my tools.

  "The refrigerator was a gracious gesture. Where I come from, friendly gestures are uncommon and usually come with expectations."

  "Is this how you apologize?" I raise my eyes to hers.

  "I don't do apologies very well."

  "Obviously."

  "In my line of work, they are a sign of weakness."

  "Got it."

  "What do I owe you for changing the locks?"

  "Nothing."

  "Seriously, Miller. I expect to pay for the work done." That fucking attitude returns.

  "When Kendrick Construction begins working, you'll get to spend your money. Consider this a favor."

  She stares at me, looking as if she’s preparing to argue, then nods slowly. "Thank you."

  "Was that so hard?"

  A small grin spreads across her lips. "Torture. The words are scalding my tongue." She takes a large sip of her wine and gulps. "But the wine helps."

  A hint of the woman I spent the weekend with appears and hits me square in the chest. "I think we should talk about—"

  "I'd rather not," she cuts me off.

  "Want to tell me why?"

  "Not really. It's better if we leave it in the past."

  "Better for who? I'd like to know why you lied to me."

  "You weren't exactly forthcoming. I remember you telling me you worked in construction and traveled around. That's a far stretch."

  "Not exactly true and anytime I tried to get personal, you shut me down."

  "Because I knew the reality of the situation. Our time was limited."

  I don't like the way she dismisses the subject, but I'd be a hypocrite to argue. How many times have I walked into that exact scenario? Knowing a night of sex and fun would go nowhere. No promises and no personal exchanges. I take another shot for answers. "Why did you lie to me about your name?"

  "I can't explain."

  "Try it."

  "The night I walked into that bar, I wasn't myself. I'd just left a business dinner that hadn't gone well. When you spoke to me, I wanted to take the night off from being Ashlyn Rhodes. Ashlyn was disciplined and sharp, with a reputation that followed her everywhere. Instead, I borrowed our bartender's name and became Lily. Lily was a risk-taker with nothing to prove. No expectations. But apparently, I suck at casual hookups because my one-night stand turned into a weekend."

  "I liked the woman I spent the weekend with."

  "Too bad she's imaginary."

  "I don't believe that. I think Ashlyn can be that woman if she wants to be. Apparently, taking risks isn't outside of your comfort zone." I motion around the room, referring to the house.

  She peers around before bringing her attention back to me. "Can we do this? Can we work together without complicating things with our history?"

  A part of me wants to demand more answers, but it's clear she's holding back. She's right about one thing. The woman standing in front of me is not who I spent time with. But she's in there and I will find her again.

  I chuckle, shaking my head. "Yeah, we can do this without complications. You have any beer around here?"

  "I haven't stocked up on anything, knowing the kitchen will be gutted soon."

  "The kitchen is where you want to start?"

  "I think so. The kitchen and my bedroom will be the most important. For now, I'm fine living in the front room, but soon I will need dedicated office space."

  "Darby mentioned you opening your own firm."

  "Yes, maybe. I'm not sure of my direction. It'll be hard to build a business and renovate at the same time. And to be honest, I'm not sure what my next steps are in my legal profession."

  It's easy to see there's more to this story, but now is not the time to pry.

  "That's what you hired us for. If you need to concentrate on your business, you can trust me to see this through."

  "I appreciate that, but I want to be hands-on."

  "There's only so much you can do, and it's going to be dirty work."

  She narrows her eyes and takes another sip of her wine. "I don't mind getting dirty."

  The innuendo hits her as soon as the words are out, and she snaps her mouth shut.

  "Suit yourself."

  "You don't think I can help do you?"

  "I didn't say that."

  "You didn't have to. It's written all over your face. You don't know me, but I'm determined when I set my mind to something. Since the moment I saw this house online, I knew exactly what I wanted it to be."

  "Then I'll help you get it that way. As long as you know that watching a few renovation shows doesn't make you a professional."

  "Noted. But you'll find I'm a quick learner."

  "Looking forward to it."

  Her phone rings again, but she makes no move to answer it. The irritation from earlier reappears and her lips press into a fine line.

  "Everything okay?"

  "Yep, it's been long enough that Andrew has passed the ball onto Austin, who thinks he can change my mind."

  "Who are Andrew and Austin?"

  "My older brothers who think I have lost my mind and don't have faith I made a good decision here. They take turns harassing me."

  "Sounds unpleasant."

  "Unpleasant is one way to put it," she half-laughs.

  "They'll come around."

  "I sure hope so."

  "Well, think of it this way. If they don't, you can shove it in their faces when they see the finished product. You'll get your redemption."

  She seems to think about this, and one side of her lip curls up. "That's a great visual."

  "Andrew, Austin, Ashlyn…" I trail off.

  "Don't ask!" She throws up a hand. "My parents thought it was cute, and we've suffered since birth. My gra
ndparents referred to us as the A-Team."

  "Let me guess, you were Faceman?"

  "Hell no! I was B.A. all the way. If you ever meet my brothers, you'll understand why."

  "Oh, I think I already understand." I wiggle my eyebrows at her.

  Her face softens, and she gives me a simple grin.

  "You have plans tomorrow?"

  "I thought you were bringing the plumber and electrician by."

  "You don't need to be here for that."

  She opens her mouth to argue, but I take the business card out of my back pocket and hold it out for her. "This is my card. I wrote the names of some suppliers we contract with on the back. It's smart for you to make some decisions on interior materials, so once I get measurements, we can get prices. Check out their selections, look around their showrooms, decide what you like. You don't have to make concrete decisions tomorrow. All these vendors will let you bring home samples, and you can think about it."

  "Don't I need to make an appointment?"

  "I'll give them a heads up to expect you."

  "What about here?"

  "I'll be here in the morning and take my guys through. When they are done, I will make arrangements to get a dumpster so we can yank out all the rotten wood."

  "Really?"

  "You sound shocked."

  "I guess I didn't think it would go this fast."

  "I don't fuck around. You caught me at a good time of the year for this. Take the next few days to select your interior, then get ready to get dirty." I grab my toolbox and start to leave. Something she said pops into my head and I stop at the doorway, turning to face her.

  "You'll find I'm usually sharp. I didn't catch onto you stealing the bartender's name because the second I laid eyes on you, you had my attention."

  "Miller—"

  "That's not all, Ashlyn. I will find out why you lied to me. I’ll show you that friendly gestures in Charleston don't come with expectations. You can say the woman I spent time with was imaginary, but I have a head full of memories that are anything but imaginary. That woman is standing in front of me. And this time she has ALL my attention."

  Chapter 2

  Ashlyn

  "Let's start a process of elimination," Stephanie suggests, squatting on the floor and arranging my samples.