He zoomed in on the 3D rendering, his fingers brushing against hers as he adjusted the view. “Maybe something with a subtle metallic sheen toenhance the light reflection? Or we could go for a more organic look to tie in with the vines.”
She leaned in, her bare arm pressing into his forearm. His grip tightened on his tablet, making his muscles bunch and flex. It was hard to look away, but she managed. Barely. “What if we combined those ideas? Perhaps a material with an organic texture but a faint metallic undertone. It could catch the light in intriguing ways while still harmonizing with the natural elements,” she suggested, her excitement at the idea building.
He nodded. “That’s . . . wow. It’s like you’ve peered into my thoughts and then woven them into something even better.” His gaze lingered on her, eyebrows raised slightly. He rocked forward on the balls of his feet, then tilted his head. “You have such a knack for this. What made you get into this?”
She paused, considering. It was a simple question, but something in his tone made her want to give a real answer. “I guess I’ve always been fascinated by how spaces affect people. How the right design can change not just how a room looks, but how it feels.”
They continued talking through their designs, and electric sparks danced through her veins with each interaction, not only from working together, but from the accidental touches and wafts of his delicious scent
“I like it.” She shifted to face him, finding his gaze already on her. There was a spark in his eyes that went beyond professional admiration, a glimmer of something that knocked her off-balance.
For a heartbeat, the world beyond their shared tablet ceased to exist. The air between them seemed to hum with potential, like the moment before a summer storm breaks.
Max swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His gaze darted between Paloma’s eyes and lips before he seemed to catch himself. “We, uh . . . we work well together,” he said as if reminding himself of work.
“We do,” she agreed, surprised by the husky quality of her voice. She took a small step back, grounding herself in the familiar territory of professionalism. “Your ideas complement mine perfectly. The Thompsons will love what we can create.”
Wrapping up their consultation, she couldn’t shake the lingering awareness of him—the way he moved through the space, how his enthusiasm for the project matched hers, the natural rhythm they’d already fallen into. Their professional chemistry was undeniable, but there was something else simmering beneath the surface, something that made every accidental touch feel like a spark threatening to ignite.
Walking back to her car, she took a deep breath of lake-scented air. The Thompson project was too important to complicate with attraction, no matter how magnetic. She’d have to find a way to channel this energy into their work.
Chapter Five
July 30th, 2:12 p.m.
Paloma flipped the grilled cheese sandwiches, inhaling the comforting scent of melting butter and sharp cheddar. Max hunched over his tablet at her kitchen table, scrolling through photos from their nursery visit. Her leather binder rested next to him. She’d invited herself along to ensure the plants would enhance her design vision for the space. The trip had been a lot more fun than she’d expected.
How his face lit up when he talked about the different plants stirred something low in her chest. The echo of his deep laughter through the greenhouse when she’d jumped at a garden hose she’d mistaken for a snake still played on repeat. Then, there was the flex of his shoulders as he’d lifted pot after pot, showing her different options for the tricky spot under the stairs.
She’d learned more about plants in three hours than her in years of design work. But mostly, she’d learned Max’s enthusiasm was infectious, his knowledge ran deep, and the way he ran his finger along his bottom full lip when he was thinking should be illegal.
A sharp, bitter stench pulled her from her reverie. She glanced at the pan. “Shit! I did it again,” she muttered. Tendrils of smoke snuck out from the underside of the sandwiches.
“Everything okay?” Max asked, not looking away from his photos.
“Yup, everything’s great.” She slid the three grilled cheeses from the griddle, flipping the burnt sides down. They would probably taste fine. She’d added extra cheese and butter.
The afternoon sunlight slanted across the sleek leather seats of the kitchen nook, warming her thighs. She sat across from Max, setting the plates in front of them, then cracked the window that ran along the table.
“Thanks,” he said before taking a huge bite of his grilled cheese. His eyes widened, and something that might have been panic flickered across his face. He chewed and swallowed with obvious struggle. “It’s . . . interesting.”
A laugh bubbled up in her chest. “Good thing I made you two.”
He nodded, his panicked look growing. He took another bite. His commitment to the charade was impressive.
She tried hers, and bitter ash assaulted her tongue, leaving behind a chemical-like tang. “Oh, that’s disgusting.”
“Oh, come on. It’s, um, unique.”
She collapsed into the back of her chair, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Stop, please.”
His answering grin made her heart skip. “The char adds character.”
“Character is not what I’d call it.” She shook her head, still chuckling. “But speaking of character, what do you think about climbing roses? Are those possible for the garden? In yellow.”
He ran his thumb along his bottom lip, and she tracked the movement. “Oh, Golden Shower roses could work. I’ll have to install a grow light and manage humidity, but they’re put on quite a show. The blooms start tight but slowly open up, getting more and more excited until they’re completelyexposed. The heady fragrance is almost too much. And once they get going, they’re absolutely insatiable. Their blooms just keep coming and coming—”
“Max!” she said between bursts of laughter.
