Chapter Seven
CHASE
The afternoon sunglinted into the conference room of Latitudes Design, making the white walls appear even whiter, almost like a scene from an art gallery. The screen behind me displayed the final guest suite renderings, a slick 3D walk-through that played like a Pixar short. Tom Franson studied the design as if it were his own child winning a gold medal, while his wife relaxed in her chair with a bright smile. Landing their contract was more than just a professional win. It was proof that Latitudes Design was on its way. Marilyn floated through the room, expertly corralling stray papers. A rush of satisfaction went through me, and I calculated the start date in my head. The mental exercise helped me keep from thinking about Harper. Or Eli.
“We really nailed this,” I said, guiding the Fransons through the last few details. I pointed to the screen, emphasizing Tom’s prized workspace. “See how itintegrates without sacrificing any of the living area? A seamless transition between productivity and relaxation.”
“Impressive.” Tom nodded with enthusiasm. “You understood what I wanted better than I did.”
Marilyn placed a final copy of the contract in front of him, her timing impeccable.
Tom leaned back and eyed me like I’d just turned water into wine. “This is exactly why we went with you, Chase. You’re a man of vision and action.”
Beside him, his wife glanced up, her smile warm and appreciative. “It’s lovely, Mr. Ashworth. I knew it would be. You’ve brought it all together so beautifully.”
“We’ve already started coordinating with the structural engineers, so permitting should progress quickly,” I continued, trying not to sound too much like a salesman. “Construction will be underway soon.”
A well of relief mixed with pride surged through me, a validation of every late night and second-guessed decision. The anxiety that had haunted me since the firm opened lifted just a little, like mist burned away by the morning sun.
Marilyn collected the final signed documents, her calm professionalism adding a sense of completion to the moment. “We look forward to starting this project,” she said with a graceful nod. “Thank you for your trust in Latitudes Design.”
The Fransons left, their footsteps echoing down the hall like the soundtrack of my success. I watched them go, enjoying the comforting weight of a job well done.
Marilyn lingered for a moment, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “That was almost too easy. You’re setting the bar high, Chase.”
“Maybe next time, I’ll try juggling fire,” I joked,already feeling the shift from business to personal as I watched her softly latch the door behind her.
I leaned back in my chair, alone in the sunlit conference room, and the mental dam I’d built around Harper broke free. My mind wandered back to that unexpected, intense night. Not just the argument or the furious first kiss, but the momentafter. When I’d pushed her against the desk, ready to lose myself entirely, and she’d stiffened. When she’d seen me naked and ready. Her eyes, usually so direct and confident, had widened with a sudden flash of something I hadn’t expected—vulnerability? Fear? It had jolted me, stopping me cold. It was more than concern at my size. Then she’d spoken the words, something raw and honest about how long it had been. Years. How she wasn’t sure…
The admission had hit me hard.Years. She’d been alone, guarding herself, raising Finn, managing that resort, and I’d almost charged right past that fragile trust in my own urgency. A sharp wave of protectiveness had washed over me, followed quickly by a surge of something fiercely possessive, almost primal.
Iwas the first in years.
Iwould make this right for her.
Iwould be careful.
I forced myself to slow down then, gentling my touch, whispering her name, needing to erase that fear, needing her tochoosethis with me, not just be swept away by the heat of the moment. And the way she’d melted at last, the tension easing from her shoulders, her eyes meeting mine again with a dawning trust that made my own breath catch…
Goddamn.
And then seeing her completely unravel, hearing that raw, beautiful cry torn from her throat as she shatteredagainst me… Jesus, it had been humbling. Powerful. Witnessing that release after so long was a different kind of intensity altogether, something that went beyond mere physical pleasure and took root deep in my chest, both exhilarating and terrifying.
And now, that memory—her vulnerability, her stunning release—only amplified my worry. This wasn’t just sex. This was something else. Something terrifyingly real.
I pushed away from the conference table, the smooth glide of my chair on the polished floor echoing in the sudden quiet. I walked to the window, staring out at the familiar Dove Key landscape without really seeing it. Because my mind had traveled back to Room 1212 this morning.
Getting Harper to agree on replacing the copper pipes had felt like a victory, not just for the project’s integrity, but forus. It meant she trusted my judgment, even when it complicated her budget and schedule. The relief that washed over me when she conceded had been immense.
And then, the apologies. Stilted at first, then dissolving into that shared, unexpected laughter. It had felt like breaking through a layer of ice, finding something warmer, more real underneath.
But then… the closet.
Even now, hours later, I couldn’t quite believe I’d done that. What the hell had possessed me? Right there, surrounded by raw lumber and drywall dust, with hammering echoing just feet away… we’d nearly lost ourselves again. Thank God I’d gotten that text.
I ran a hand over my face before whispering, “A closet. On an active worksite. Jesus.”
It defied every rule of professional conduct I’d ever adhered to. It defied basic common sense. Yet, remembering the feel of her lips, the soft gasp against my mouth,the sheer rightness of holding her… a thrill shot through me, overriding the logical panic.
