"This is the process of elimination. These are my top choices." I chew my thumbnail, glancing between the four groups of selections.
"Well, if it helps, you have a theme going. They are all beautiful." Darby lounges on the sofa in her office with her dog, Runner, lying beside her.
After spending hours in design centers, I called Stephanie to get her opinion. She told me to meet her at Darby's bakery where she was working. When I got here, Darby was finishing for the day, and we came back to her office to spread out what I brought.
"That's the problem. The similarities are clouding my mind."
This excuse is only a half-truth. All the options are overwhelming, but three days ago, I'd have made a straightforward decision. My mind was focused. After seeing Miller yesterday, my thoughts are all over the place. Only I can try to escape my past and run into the man I spent an unforgettable weekend with. A thousand miles away, in the city of my dreams, I’ve come face to face with the man who changed the course of my life without knowing it. What are the chances?
Oh yeah, with my luck, I should have expected it.
"No offense, but I assumed you had this planned down the minutest details." Stephanie looks at me inquisitively, breaking into my thoughts.
"I did! Then Miller sent me to these showrooms, and I was a goner! So many shades of blues, greys, greens. My mind exploded with all my options. It was too much. I went crazy. Crazy! It's all beautiful, and I can't help feeling this will be my showplace. It has to be perfect."
I don't miss the way Stephanie's eyes cut to Darby, nor the way she looks back at me apprehensively.
"No matter what you do, this will be a showplace, but it will be your home. Whatever you choose will be perfect because it's for you. Or am I wrong? Are we trying to prove something?"
I shake my head a little too fast. "No, that's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean? I've never known you to be wishy-washy. Decisions come snap-quick."
"Ugh!" I blow out a breath and run my hands through my hair. "I got overwhelmed and put pressure on myself."
"Is this about your dad and brothers?"
I shrug, not willing to admit they've gotten to me.
"I've got a brother that is overly vocal in my life, so I can relate. You want to talk about it?" Darby offers gently.
"At least Evin respects your decisions."
She crows out a laugh. "Maybe now, but I have thirty-four years of stories for you. Not to mention, now I have an overbearing husband that took Evin's place."
I glance over at her, noticing the way she cradles her stomach with one hand and lazily runs the other through Runner's fur. It is not my style to unload my personal business, especially to those I don't know well, but Darby makes me want to talk.
"It's not my brothers or my dad. I wish they'd be more supportive, but this is our way. They always watch out for the baby of the family. I wish they'd show some encouragement instead of criticizing my choices."
"What choices are they criticizing?"
"Quitting my job, hauling ass out of Chicago, buying a fixer-upper in Charleston instead of returning to Atlanta. They want answers I'm not ready to give."
"It's normal to be curious."
"I guess."
"I'm the queen of holding back. I stayed away for twelve years to hide from the only man I ever loved. No judgment here."
"Thanks." I send her a grateful smile.
"But now that you bring it up, I've wondered the same things. Why did you uproot your life and make these big changes?"
My history with Stephanie goes back a long way, and even with scattered contact, I still think of her as a genuine friend. But I'm not ready to share my reasons.
"Chicago was a significant lead into my career. I thought I'd hit gold. But throughout the years, I disappeared and no longer recognized myself. One morning I woke up and decided I was done." This is a rehearsed answer I've used time and time again.
The look on these women's faces tells me they know it's a cop-out.
"I'm here if you want to talk." Luckily, Stephanie doesn't push for more. "I go home tomorrow, but you know where to find me."
"And I'm here anytime," Darby pipes in.
"I'll keep that in mind."
We stay quiet for a minute, an uncomfortable silence settling in. I focus back on the samples on the floor.
"I have a marvellous idea!" Darby squeals, clapping her hands together. "Let's take this back to my house. Maybe you can get a better vibe there."
My mood instantly boosts. "I'd love to see your house. The pictures Stephanie shared have been a tremendous source of inspiration."
"We can pop by the shed on the way home, too."
I stop short of squealing because the 'shed' as everyone refers to it, is Darby's special place on her parents' property. "I don't want to intrude on your parents." I try to sound cool.
"Oh, it's not an intrusion. Trust me. But ..." Darby bites her lower lip and heaves herself off the couch. "If you meet my mom, you can't hold it against me."
"Stop! Annie's harmless. She's eccentric," Stephanie defends.
"Once you meet my mom, you'll see I'm immune to eccentric," I assure them. "But maybe I should take a rain check. I haven't been to my house since I left this morning. Miller may need to talk to me."
"If he did, he'd call."
"What if decisions need to be made?"
"Then he will make them," Darby answers matter-of-factly. "You'll learn that quickly. Didn't he tell you this stuff needed to be done ASAP?"
"Yes."
"Then you need to do your part."
"I guess, but he said I don't have to decide today. Just narrow it down."
"Perfect. Let me go to the restroom and we'll leave." She shuffles to her private bathroom.
I gather an armful of samples, and when I stand, Stephanie is staring at me thoughtfully. "I respect your privacy, but you're not fooling me. We may have lost touch over the years, but I'm your friend. Don't forget that."
"I won't, promise. I made some poor choices that I'm not proud of, and this is a fresh start for me."
"Remember, you're not alone."
I swallow the burn at the base of my throat and nod. Her words ring in my ears, meaning more than she'll ever know.
•—•—•—•—•
Two kids rush through the back door, calling their hellos and something about finishing homework. Pierce strolls in a few seconds later, going straight to Darby's side and kissing her sweetly before laying his hand on her stomach.
"How are you feeling?"
"Wonderful," she replies, covering his hand with her own. It's impossible to miss the way she looks at him.
"Since it's Stephanie's last night, I'm taking us out."
"That explains the kids racing to get homework done. They didn't even stop to meet Ashlyn."
"Kids! Get back down here," he yells, and there's a pounding down the stairs.
"What's up, Dad?" the boy asks, and I'm struck by the resemblance to Pierce. A pretty young lady comes up behind him.
"You guys hot-footed it through here so fast you missed our guest. This is Ashlyn Rhodes." Darby gestures to me. "Ashlyn, this is Maya and Cole."
"Hi. I love your hair." Maya smiles, my heart warming with the compliment.
"And I love your house!" Cole bounces excitedly. "Dad says I can help sometimes."
"You've seen my house?" I look between him and Pierce. "When?"
"We just left there. Uncle Miller and Dad finished the kitchen."
"Finished the kitchen?" Now I stare at Pierce, totally confused.
"We ripped it out."
"How?"
"Removed the appliances, tore out cabinets, drawers, and countertops. Stripped the trim."
"But no one consulted me!" There's a hitch in my voice, and Pierce's expression changes.
"Didn't you tell Miller yesterday to start with the kitchen?"
"I expected to be there."
"After the plumber a
nd electrician gave their assessments, there was no need to waste time. Miller has all your drawings and sent them over to our designer this morning."
"Yeah, Dad and Uncle Miller say wasting time is wasting money," Cole pipes in.
It's hard to hold on to my annoyance when he puts it that way. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I selected my materials today."
"Those your choices?" Pierce points to the stack of samples on the edge of the counter.
"Yes, I think so. Seeing the shed and this kitchen helped it all come together. I adore Darby's style."
Darby peers up at Pierce with a grin and winks, then looks back at me. "The shed was a group effort, but I had nothing to do with this kitchen. It was all Pierce."
"Really?"
"She had an influence, though I didn't know it at the time," he counters, running his lips across her cheek.
"Yeah, Dad did a lot of things for Darby and didn't realize it," Maya adds.
"Maybe we should stop sharing so much in front of the kids." Darby blushes.
"Not a chance." He tugs her gently to him, closing the inch of space, and wraps his arms to rest on her stomach. There is no doubt Pierce Kendrick idolizes his wife. I catch the vivid shine of approval on Stephanie's face as she observes them.
My chest constricts at the beautiful and silent display of affection. For a brief second, I'm taken back in time to a luxury hotel room in Chicago where I spent two days and nights with a virtual stranger that showed me those same displays of affection.
Memories assault my brain of the way Miller was always close. The way he'd sneak up behind me, curling his arms around my waist, and kiss along my neck. The whispers against my skin to wake me in the morning. What began as a night of sex with no promises turned into the most passionate weekend of my life.
Never had I been with a man so attentive, so attuned to my body and interested in me for me. It was liberating, and I let myself go, knowing Miller was clueless to who I really was.
I was Lily—the carefree, untroubled, and full of life woman I became for a brief time. The lie about my identity was as much for him as for me. He was leaving, and it was supposed to be a fun fling. But I knew the instant that the hotel room door closed and he kissed me, I was in over my head. It came naturally to let down my guard and live in the moment.
I should have known better than to try to escape the shit storm that was my reality.
A throat clears, and I snap out of my head and find all eyes on me.
"You okay?" Stephanie asks wearily.
"Yes, I spaced out. It seems to happen a lot lately. My mind travels to the house, and everything around me becomes invisible." I lie, again, to my friend.
"You don't need to worry. Miller will take excellent care of you," Darby assures me.
"I'm not worried at all." I try to sound indifferent to his name, even though my heart flips in my chest. "Besides, Pierce's intimate knowledge of the perfect kitchen is reassuring."
He shares a glance with Darby and Stephanie that makes my skin prickle.
"This is entirely Miller's project." His tone is serious. "I'll help when I can, but Miller cleared his schedule for this."
I bite my tongue to keep from repeating that Miller told me this was a good time of year for him.
"Yeah, Uncle Miller said he will be wrapped up in you for a long time," Cole throws in.
This time when Pierce glances at Darby, the hair on my arms stands. Something passes between them, and my suspicions hackle when Stephanie coughs to cover up her laugh.
"I think he said wrapped up in the project," Pierce corrects his son, not hiding his smirk.
"Same difference." Cole shrugs.
To a ten-year-old, the meaning goes over his head, but I don't miss the innuendo. My cheeks flame, and by the knowing looks on the adults' faces, they are thinking the same thing.
For about the hundredth time since yesterday, the fact rolls through my mind.
I'm definitely in trouble.
Chapter 3
Miller
I let myself into the house and follow the sound of the music to find Ashlyn in the bathroom with a steamer in her hand. She's singing lightly, lost in her own world, facing the wall and ripping as she goes. Heaps of shredded wallpaper cover the floor.
I lean against the doorframe and rake my eyes over her, taking in the way her body moves with the music. My cock stirs in my jeans, knowing the feel of her hips rocking on top of me. Her tiny tank top and leggings are the exact opposite of the power outfit I last saw her in.
I knew my parting words that Sunday night affected her when I showed the next morning and got my first glimpse of the Prada Princess. Her shields were up and attitude in place. The outfit she wore was appropriate for a corner office and not a day walking through showrooms.
Still, I enjoyed every second of her attempts to ignore my presence.
She turns to face me, and my gaze travels back up her body. Fuck yeah, I like this outfit a hell of a lot more.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Enjoying the view."
"Me stripping wallpaper is considered a view?"
"It's not the wallpaper, it's the woman."
A blush creeps up her neck before she says, "That's slightly inappropriate."
"Not to me. Considering it's been a week since I've seen you, I'm enjoying this."
She tries to remain straight-faced, but the glint in her eye gives her away. "What do you think?"
"I prefer to see you naked first thing in the morning, but that outfit is almost as good."
"Miller!" She props a fist on her hip. "I was talking about the room!"
"What about it?"
Her eyes narrow at the same time she blows out a breath. She can try to fool me, but I'm onto her game. I hold her gaze, grinning knowingly.
"I thought we discussed this wouldn't be awkward. Are we going to have to set boundaries?"
"You can try, but I'm not a big fan of rules."
"I haven't had enough coffee to handle you this morning."
"From my experience, you never needed coffee to handle me in the morning."
This time she throws her head back to the ceiling, mumbling something about me being impossible. I trail my eyes over her one last time and decide to let her off the hook.
"You did well, I don't see too much damage to the walls." I knock on the drywall.
"Thanks, but I'm afraid the upstairs wasn't as easy."
"You've already finished up there?"
"Yes."
"How long have you been at this?"
"I couldn't sleep so I started early."
"Those are high ceilings. Told you I'd work on them later today."
"No need. I used the ladder."
My playful mood vanishes and irritation spikes. After she picked out the materials for her kitchen, she was rearing to get going on something physical. Since I had a few loose ends to wrap up before moving my time over to her project, I sent daily task lists.
Most of it was easy and tedious. Even through text messages, it was easy to read into her frustration at being bored. When I mentioned it was time to get the wallpaper down in the rooms and bathrooms, she jumped at the chance. Her bitter attitude turned eager, and she assured me she’d finish today.
There was one rule, and apparently, she ignored it.
"I told you not to get on that ladder without me here."
"I must have missed that." Her coy smirk tells me all I need to know.
"Dammit, Ashlyn, you could have hurt yourself."
"But I didn't, so why are we talking about it?"
"Because if you're going to be working here alone, you have to take safety precautions." I cross my arms and glare at her. "You need to understand that."
"Okay," she states dismissively.
"I'm serious."
"I'm sure you are."
She places the steamer on the side of the sink and comes to stand in front of me. "I think it's cute you're trying to use the pushy,
bad boss attitude on me. But you need to learn I have over thirty years of practice with a dad and two brothers."
My arm jets out, wrapping around her waist and yanking her to me. Her breath hitches when her chest hits mine. Before she can argue, I brush my lips across hers and press our foreheads together. "Think twice about comparing me to your family, Princess, because I promise the outcome will be different. I'm finding your sass a huge fucking turn on."
Her eyes grow wide, flicks of green burning darker. The warmth of her breath coats my lips, sending a message straight to my dick. "Miller." My name comes out winded, and I know she feels my cock against her thigh.
"Say my name like that again, and I'll prove to you exactly what—"
"Miller! You around?" a voice booms from somewhere in the house.
"Fuck," I hiss, and she jerks out of her daze.
"Yeah, Rod. Kitchen's straight back. Be right there," I call over my shoulder.
"Who's Rod?" Ashlyn tries to wiggle free, but I only give her a few inches. "And why did he walk into my house without knocking?"
"Most likely, he saw my truck out front and knew I was already working. He's here to look over the plans for the kitchen."
"But I sent you the email this morning to finalize."
"Got your email, made the call, wanted a workup, and now he's here."
She chews the corner of her lip, holding my gaze. "Do you always get what you want?"
"Usually. People work hard to please me. Although I don't recall you having to work hard at it."
"Stop."
"Thought about it, but made that mistake once."
"Mistake?"
"The one time in my life I let a woman call the shots, I was left naked in a hotel room without even a phone number. This time, I'm calling the shots."
"There are no shots to call! We are not going over this again."
"You can keep telling yourself that."
She huffs, squirming again. "Will you let me go so we can meet him?"
"I'm gonna meet him while you put on a different shirt."
"What's wrong with this?" she snips.
"Not a goddamned thing if it's the two of us. But your nipples are poking through, and I'd hate to fire one of my best guys because I catch him staring at your tits."
Miller's Time (Southern Charmers Series Book 2) Page 3
