Chase met my eyes, and the humor faded, replaced by a familiar, steady seriousness. “Let’s just say I’m glad we’re making good progress on the bungalows and the pool. Keeping the contingency fund healthy helps me sleep at night.” His face took on a speculative, slightly wolfish expression that made something squirm deep inside me. Then he flashed a small, reassuring smile, the kind that recognized the risk but didn’t dwell on the fear. “But there’s no point in borrowing trouble. We’ll handle whatever comes up.”
The casual way he said “we’ll handle whatever comes up” relaxed something in me, a quiet confidence that mirrored the easy understanding that had just bloomed between us after the pipe argument.
“We will,” I stated confidently. “With you overseeing everything, how can we not?”
“So…” Chase cleared his throat, that earlier shared humor returning to his eyes along with a new, more searching intensity. “Where do we go from here?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Was he talking about the pipes? Or us? My breath caught. “Professionally? We replace the pipes,” I said carefully, focusing on the immediate task.
“What about… personally?” he pressed gently, his gaze holding mine.
I glanced around the chaotic room, at the exposed studs and dangling wires, feeling utterly exposed myself. “I don’t know, Chase.” The honesty felt raw, vulnerable. “Maybe we can get together later this week? Talk things through properly? Somewhere that isn’t… here.”
Hope flared in his eyes, bright and unmistakable. “Yeah. Okay.” He sounded relieved, almost boyish. “Whenever works for you. Just let me know.”
“I will,” I promised, though my mind was already racing with the logistics and potential pitfalls of such a conversation.
I focused back on the plumbing disaster, needing a distraction, and my arm brushed against his. The contact was brief, accidental, but it sent an electric jolt through my system. I inhaled sharply. It was absurd how a touch could obliterate all the distance I was trying to maintain, crumbling my resolve in an instant. Did he feel it too? The air between us was thick enough to slice, filled with so much leftover tension it was difficult to breathe.
I lifted my gaze to his, where the same surprise, the same flare of heat, was reflected in his eyes. Professionalism felt like tissue paper against this magnetic force. I wanted to step away, reestablish distance, but my feet were rooted to the floor.
Every rational thought battled with a desperate urge to close the gap between us. Chase rocked slightly on his feet as if he wasn’t sure whether to rebuild his cool detachment or give in to whatever was happening. This pull between us was as impossible to ignore as it had been at his house. My heart pounded in my ears, each beat a reminder that I was in dangerous territory. It was impossible not to remember the way we’d come together so fiercely, so unexpectedly, the desk digging into my back, his hands on my waist, pulling me impossibly closer.
He swallowed hard, a quick flicker of intention in his eyes, like he was about to say something important. But no words came. His gaze dropped to where we’d touched, his expression one of unguarded desire.
Had I really thought we could shove everything that had happened into a neat little drawer and forget about it? Now, standing this close, I couldn’t even pretend to be unaffected. Heat pulsed in my cheeks again, mirroring the flush on Chase’s face. Whatever was happening between us was dangerous, unpredictable. Like standing in a lightning storm.
“Harper…” My name sounded almost like a question. Hearing him say it sent another thrill through me. He looked as thrown off balance as I felt.
I tried to think straight, to focus on the practical. My gaze drifted over the raw edges of the drywall, anything but him. But it refused to focus, instead drawn straight back to his face. “Yes?”
Chase watched me for another long moment, his eyes searching. I tried to steady my heartbeat, but his presence was like gravity. Instead of pushing him away, I felt myself leaning toward him.
His eyes darted toward a newly drywalled closet near the bathroom entrance, a small space offering the only semblance of privacy amidst the demolition. He cleared his throat. “Need to check the framing in here real quick. Come take a look?” His words came out deeper, huskier, and sent a molten throb through my core.
Even as my logical brain screamedNo! Bad idea!,my body overruled it. I jerked a nod, unable to trust my voice.
He stepped into the confined space, the sharp scent of raw pine filling the air. After making sure no one was looking our way, I followed with my heart threatening to burst from my chest. He reached back and pulled thetemporary plastic sheeting partially across the opening, cocooning us in dim, dusty intimacy. The roar of the construction site faded to a muffled hum.
We stood inches apart. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough to see the slight tremor in his hand as he pretended to inspect the wall.
“Chase, what are?—”
He didn’t answer with words. His hand came up, calloused fingers surprisingly gentle as they cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing away a smudge of dust. His touch was electric, grounding, and unsettling all at once. I leaned into it instinctively, my eyes fluttering closed for a dizzying moment.
That was all it took.
His warm, firm mouth covered mine and silenced any further questions. This kiss wasn’t fueled by anger like the first. It held a different kind of urgency. A seeking, a questioning, a desperate need to affirm that the connection we’d forged in the heat of the night wasn’t an anomaly.
I responded without hesitation, my own need overriding caution. My arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down, my body molding against his strong frame. This felt dangerous, reckless, and utterly right. His mouth was insistent, exploring mine with a confidence that tore straight through me. He parted my lips, and our tongues met in a deep, searching kiss that tasted of coffee and desperation and something undeniably right. I deepened the kiss, my hands sliding up into his silky dark hair. He felt solid, real, anchoring me even as my world tilted on its axis.
His hands slid down my back, finding the curve of my waist, pulling me flush against his hardening arousal. And I sure rememberedthat. A whimper escaped my throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated want. He shifted,pressing me gently against the rough, chalky drywall of the closet.
This is a terrible idea,a tiny voice screamed in the back of my mind.In a construction zone. During work hours.
But the feel of his body against mine, the intoxicating taste of his mouth, drowned out all reason. I arched against him, needing more, needing?—
BZZZZT. BZZZZT.
