He studied my face for a moment, then his expression shifted subtly. “So… back to the disaster area. Is my best friend making your life hell?”
And there was the other reason I couldn’t sleep at night.
Chase Ashworth, award-winning architect, my brother’s best friend since forever, and now—through a series of events that still baffled me—our family’s business partner in this massive renovation project. Both Eli and Chase were a year older than me at thirty-five.
“Chase is doing precisely what we wanted him to do.” I kept my voice deliberately neutral. “His designs are amazing, and he’s been incredibly patient with our budget constraints.”
“But…”
“No but,” I insisted. “The fact that he invested his ownmoney into becoming a partner still feels like a small miracle. Without him, I’d be even more stressed about how much this is costing.”
Eli looked skeptical. “That doesn’t answer my question about whether he’s making your life hell.”
I sighed. “It’s complicated.”
Like the fact that every time Chase walked into a room, my heart did this irritating flutter thing that had no place in a professional relationship. Or how his quiet confidence and focus made me simultaneously calmer and more flustered. Or the way his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that?—
“Define complicated,” Eli prompted, interrupting my inappropriate mental tangent.
“Chase has a very expansive vision,” I explained. “Sometimes that vision requires materials that cost more than the original budget for these bungalows. We debate. We compromise. It’s the normal back-and-forth of any project.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
Eli’s eyebrow arched knowingly. “Harper, I’ve known Chase since we were kids. He can be intense when he cares about something. And he definitely cares about this project.”
“He’s been a rock,” I insisted, perhaps a bit too forcefully. “Professional. Supportive. Understanding.”
“Glad to hear it. If he steps out of line, let me know. I’ll pound him to smithereens. Or send him diving with concrete shoes.”
That made me laugh, bless him. “At least wait until we’re finished with the renovations to do him in, okay?”
He hesitated, studying my face with unexpected seriousness. “You know I’m here if you need anything, right?Even if it’s just to take Finn for an evening so you can decompress.”
The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard, and a rush of gratitude for my eccentric, loyal family suffused me. “I know. Thank you.”
I turned back to survey the unfinished space. In my mind’s eye, I could picture Chase’s designs coming to life—the clean lines, the natural materials, the careful balance of luxury and authenticity. He understood what I wanted for the resort even before I could articulate it.
A complicated flutter ran through my chest. I couldn’t deny Chase had become an unexpected highlight of my chaotic days, with his quiet confidence and dry humor. That somehow over the years, he’d gone from being Eli’s brainy, meticulous friend to a successful, distractingly handsome architect. And since the resort remodel had begun four months ago, I swore he even smelled better, a combination of cedar and drywall that shouldn’t have been as enticing as it was. But my life was complicated enough already. Besides, Chase had never given any indication that he thought of me as anything other than his best friend’s sister and now his business partner.
Just then, the man himself walked through the unfinished doorway with a rolled set of documents tucked under his arm. Unlike my sawdust-covered self, Chase managed to be utterly composed amid the construction chaos—dark hair neatly styled, a crisp button-down with sleeves rolled to reveal those distracting forearms, and slacks that were somehow immune to the dust coating everything else in the building.
His hazel eyes, flecked with gold and green in the morning light, immediately found mine across the unfinished space. His gaze made my heart stutter in my chest. Itheld a quiet intensity reserved for buildings, blueprints, and occasionally, disconcertingly, for me.
“There you are.” His voice carried that calm steadiness that had anchored our project through every crisis. “I was looking for you at the main office.”
“Harper’s giving me the grand tour of Sawdust Palace,” Eli chimed in, crossing the room to greet his friend.
Chase’s mouth twitched at one corner. “You like it? I call this styleContemporary Destruction. Very avant-garde.”
Eli laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Slumming it today, Ashworth? You’re usually holed up in your fancy office, drawing perfect lines or whatever it is you do.”
“Someone has to prevent your sister from installing purple shag carpet,” Chase replied, his eyes finding mine again with a hint of shared humor.
“As if,” I protested. “My taste is impeccable.”
“Yes, it is,” Chase agreed with unexpected sincerity, and a rush of warmth engulfed me.
