Chapter Twelve
HARPER
Chaseand I stood side by side, going over countertop samples for the new pool bar as if we hadn’t been tearing each other’s clothes off every chance we got for a month now. I acted like the heat from the renovation wasn’t making the same daydream all too real. Like his teasing smile and those intense, flashing eyes weren’t adding to my already sweaty mess of an afternoon.
“The speckled one goes with the cabanas, don’t you think?” I tried to focus, wiping construction dust off my arm as we stood under the partial shade of an umbrella.
Chase ran his fingers across the granite sample. His nails were clipped short, practical, and his tan was from actually working outside. God, his hands were beautiful.
“It has character.”
I snorted. “You always say that when you mean ‘it’s not my favorite, but it’ll work.’”
Chase pointed to a darker block of quartz. “I think this one brings out the tones in the cabanas better. Plus, thisquartz is impervious to weather. Great for outdoor settings.”
I studied the piece in his hand, nodding slowly. “Good point. You might be onto something. It does have a nice contrast with the wood. You win this round.”
His lips curled into that grin again, the one that made me think things I wasn’t supposed to think when I was focusing on the job. “Glad we agree.”
I shifted the umbrella with my foot to block the afternoon sun. The construction was less chaotic today—framing for the cabanas was already well underway with my Coastal Blend wood of choice, and the sounds of saws and nail guns filled the air.
I took a drink from my ever-present thermal water bottle. “Good thing you’re finally convinced. Otherwise, I might have changed my mind about the stools again.”
Chase rubbed the back of his neck. “Only once?”
I remembered the last meeting, how we’d gotten stuck on decisions that were more complicated than I’d thought they would be. Not as complicated as kissing him in a half-finished closet, then trying to pretend it hadn’t happened, but still. I smiled, mostly at myself. “Fine. More than once. But I like the light blue for the pop of color, even if it was a last-minute change.”
“You made the right call.” Chase picked up a catalog. “Worst case, they don’t get delivered on time, and everyone has to stand at the new pool bar. It’ll be fine.”
“I want more than fine—” A loud noise caught me off guard.
It was his stomach.
“You need to feed that thing.” I frowned. “It’s louder than Eli’s dive boat.”
Chase laughed. “Guess I should’ve stopped for lunch.”
“You didn’t eat anything?”
“I was running late,” he said with a casual shrug. “Didn’t have time.”
“You know, there are very professional, well-trained kitchen staff at Driftwood Grill right over there. You should’ve said something. How are you going to make it through the rest of the afternoon?”
“Depends. I’ve had a craving all day.” He leaned close. “And not just for you. You know anyone who’s good at making a grilled cheese?”
I had to laugh. “I’m practically a professional.”
“Oh yeah?” Chase crossed his arms, the movement drawing my attention to his biceps. “The kids’ menu at Driftwood?”
“Hardly.” I straightened my spine, trying to look serious. “It’s all about technique.”
“Really? Let me guess. Classic cheddar?”
“Yes. On sourdough,” I replied firmly. “It’s all in the toasting.”
He gave me an exaggerated nod, clearly skeptical. “You don’t get bored using basic ingredients like that?”
“Are you calling me basic?”
