Ulterior Designs (House of Evans Book 1) (14 page)

*

Logan’s fingers squeaked over the leather steering wheel as he tightened his grip. As he sat watching Chloe stomp toward the entrance of her shabby turn-of-the-century apartment, he clenched his jaw. An adrenaline rush surged through him when she paused at the entrance to her building as if she would come back to him, but his hope was short-lived. When she proceeded into her apartment without looking back, he drove away, infuriated.

But she wasn't the person that he was angry with—it was with himself for having turned her down when she was doing everything except physically throwing herself at him. Christ, she’d even gone out of her comfort zone by telling him she was
thirsty for his cock.
Any man in his right mind would have given her exactly what she had asked for. Hell, any man
not
in his right mind would’ve done it. Evidently, he was somewhere in between.

He’d been bemoaning not having been laid or having his cock sucked for over a month and when the opportunity had finally presented itself, his dumb ass had clammed up. He seriously needed to have his man-card revoked. Maybe he was being a bit harsh on himself, but until he could get his shit in order, a suspension, at minimum, of his man-card was most definitely in order.

If she would only stop looking at him like her biological clock was ticking, none of this would be an issue and he’d be giving her what she’d asked for and more—just not the kind of
more
that she wanted. Something
more
along the lines of throat-fucking her into oblivion. If only he had …

He swiftly cut his self-castigation short, because regardless of whether or not her little outburst was justified, her abrupt and rude departure didn't sit well with him. And beautiful or not, he had the sudden urge to swing his car around, storm into her apartment and give her a
taste
of his reprisal in the form of his hand on her backside. Then again, she would probably like that.

When he made a pit stop to grab some coffee for the hour long drive home, a text message was waiting for him.

Chloe
: A few questions. 1) What is the budget I should work within? 2) In order of importance, which rooms do you want me to work on first? 3) What is the time frame you want everything completed?

His reply was quick.

Logan:
1) No budget limit per se. Just
work within reason. 2) One is as good as the next. 3) Whatever amount of time it takes to achieve perfection.

Her response was even quicker.

Chloe:
You're exasperating.

Logan:
And you're brave. I had half a mind to come back and spank you for your little tantrum.

Chloe:
Is that a threat or a promise?

He laughed under his breath when he recalled the look of excitement on her face after he’d spanked her.
Chloe Fucking Stephens
. She really could get his blood boiling. Apparently she wasn't only designed to please—she was also designed to tease.

Chloe:
Never mind. Big day planned tomorrow. No time for small talk. Goodnight.

A sinking feeling swamped him. He had pushed her away and now she was pulling back and setting boundaries.
God, he hated boundaries.
Hard limits—those were to be expected. But not
boundaries.
He respected them, but he sure as hell didn't like them. Then again, what did he expect? She had made her intentions clear in his bedroom and then offered to suck his dick, and he had denied her both damned times.
What a jackass
. How often did he think opportunities like that would happen? How many times would a beautiful woman like Chloe put up with his rejections? Not many, he'd imagine.

His finger hovered over the phone with his response, but he decided that showing her how he planned on pushing those boundaries would be far more effective than texting her.

C
hloe woke on Sunday feeling recharged. It was a new day and the garment district was calling to her. Now that she had some funds in her bank account, she could finally buy some of the exotic fabrics that had been on her wish list since first moving to San Francisco. She quickly dressed and grabbed her sketch pad of design ideas, along with a foldable shopping cart stocked with reusable bags.

Although South of Market was the exact opposite of the Los Angeles garment district, what it lacked for in convenience, it made up for with unbeatable prices. Unfortunately, she had missed the best day to shop, which was Friday. That was the day that new merchandise arrived. However, her disappointment was tempered by the fact that she had also missed the busiest day, Saturday, and she wouldn't have to fight the crowds.

She knew from experience that spring was a great time to bargain shop. She couldn't have gotten paid at a better time. Because
most of the stores carried surplus clothing from the past three seasons, she would not only be doing some
shopping for Logan's place, she'd be updating her wardrobe.

When she stepped outside, she took a deep breath and savored the aroma of the trees in bloom. The sun was vivid and warm, and everything looked and smelled fresh and clean after the heavy rain the previous night. She briefly considered taking her car to the market, but decided that dealing with parking would take up time that would be better spent shopping.

The twenty-five minute cable car ride from her neighborhood to SoMa gave her just enough time to decide that she would consult with her father on the chandeliers she had designed. Now that she had extra money, she called and offered to fly her parents and brother out, not only so that her dad could lend a hand with making them, but for a sorely-needed visit. To her joy, he agreed and said he would get back with her to let her know when he could come out.

An hour into her shopping spree, a text from Logan popped up.

Logan:
Busy day?

She stared at the screen for several seconds before responding.

Chloe:
Yes.

Logan:
How about lunch?

Logan was worse than a teenage girl. He wanted her, he didn't want her; the same hand that had guided her to stroke him was the same one he used to push her away; the mouth that had given her an orgasm was the very one that had denied her. She couldn't seem to win. If she hadn't responded to his spanking remark,
he might not have felt the urge to contact her again so soon. The moment she’d hit the send button she regretted it, especially after she got nothing but dead air in response.

Chloe let out a breath of frustration as she rolled her eyes.
She was too focused on getting things done to deal with his indecisiveness.

Chloe:
Nope.

Her snarky comeback lingered for nearly a minute with no reaction from him and guilt prickled at her nerves. Frustrated or not, it wasn't in her nature to be rude or cruel. Most especially since Logan was giving her the chance of a lifetime.

Chloe:
Thanks anyway.

Without waiting for Logan’s response, she stuffed her phone back into her shirt pocket.

Four full hours of shopping left Chloe exhausted and the afternoon sun had rendered her a hot mess. Literally. Her cart and two over-sized canvas bags were stuffed full of fabrics, buttons, new sewing equipment and supplies, as well as a few new outfits for herself, and her feet and back were feeling the brunt of it. Toughing it out, she walked several blocks to an outdoor café and parked her cart.

She ordered a Mexican Coke and found a cool spot under a canopy to rest. After taking a large gulp of the soda, she pressed the cold bottle against her cheek. The taste reminded her of home.

On her last visit to Michigan, she and her family had sat around drinking the beverage it while sharing stories about their grandmother, a native of Mexico. Chloe wished she had known her when she was young. From the stories her mother told and the tales her grandmother had relayed, her
abuela
had been quite the spirited individual in her youth.

As she sat reminiscing, Logan's sexy scent caught her attention. When she looked up, the sun shining behind him and reflecting off his hair made her squint. The moment his luminous blue eyes came into focus, she felt the same tickle in her belly that she had felt before. When she took in his worn denim, vintage Clash t-shirt, and navy-blue Adidas, a smile began to form on her mouth, but she reminded herself of his multiple rejections and stifled her joy.

"I stopped by your place," he said as he stared down at her.

She glared back with a blank expression. "For what reason?"

"I didn't know I needed one. You said I could come by if I changed my mind."

The gall.

*

"That offer expired."

Chloe was still angry, but damn she looked good with her temper flaring in her eyes and coloring her cheeks.
And fucking adorable.
With her messy bun, white denim shirt belted over colorfully patterned leggings and purple suede Nike high-tops, she was the picture of youthful sexiness. Logan fought the urge to grin at her, knowing it would most likely be taken the wrong way.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Her brows lifted in disbelief. "Are you?"

"Absolutely."

"Why are you here…," she suddenly appeared flustered, "and how did you find me?"

"It's called GPS. Almost every cell phone has it."

Her eyes narrowed down to slits and her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but instead she snapped her mouth closed.

He motioned to the chair across from her. "Can I join you?"

"Sure, but I won't be here long," she replied and averted her gaze to watch the passersby as if she was impervious to his presence.

He sat down and reached out to touch her hand, but she quickly withdrew it and placed it in her lap. "Please don't touch me," she said quietly, her voice lowered and her brows pinched together.

Yes, she was definitely still angry. And hurt by the looks of it. He tipped his chair back onto two legs and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why is that?"

She chewed the corner of her lip before answering. "Because, when you touch me it makes me feel things and I can't concentrate."

The only thing he wanted her to feel when he touched her was turned on, but he knew asking or expecting
only
that from a woman was about as likely as coming across a winged unicorn. A man could hold out hope, though. Anyway, her honesty was refreshing. Anyone else would've made something up. Or lied. Or simply refused his touch as a cruel act of revenge for his rejection of their advances.

As she sat unmoving and avoiding eye contact, the reason for his visit came spilling out of him. "I don't like boundaries,
Minou
."

Her eyes immediately darted to his. "And I don't like games."

Her rapid-fire response left him speechless. She was only twenty-two, but damn if she didn't have the nerve of a woman twice her age.
He would know
. He'd been with at least half a dozen older women. It had always been their straight-forwardness that attracted him to them. And though Chloe was naïve on many levels, she seemed far more mature than her age.

He brought his chair down onto all four legs. "Okay. No games."

Her intense eye contact was unrelenting when she responded, "You mean no
more
games?"

She was trying his patience. Then again, he didn't have any room to point fingers when, clearly, her own patience had been tested.

"I came to see you today with plans to take you to some of my favorite places around town—places that inspire me creatively, and to show you some of my own work." Chloe's defensiveness visibly waned and her wide, bright eyes returned. "I promise I won't touch you," he added as a sweetener.

"Well, that's no fun."

Logan's mouth parted in puzzlement. His gaze darted from her eyes to her mouth and back as he tried to read her expression. "You just said you didn't want me to touch you."

"I know what I said, but if you want me to spend the afternoon with you, promising not to touch me is about as appealing as a warted dick.”

He shook his head and belted out laughter at her uncharacteristic crudeness. "You're confusing as hell."

A knowing smirk curved her lips upward. "Welcome to my world."

Logan stood and smiled down at Chloe. "Real cute."

With her numerous bags in his hands, they walked to his car that was parked a block away. He had been lucky to find her. She had been on the move all afternoon and after his last text message went unanswered, he’d had a hard time pinpointing her exact location. By the looks of it, she’d had a successful day. It was nice to see her in her element and completely natural. Not wearing a stitch of make-up, her casual sex-appeal was breathtaking.

After packing his trunk and backseat with her items and climbing into his vehicle, he promptly turned on his stereo. If she wanted to
communicate
through music, he would accommodate her. He had spent the night before amassing his own collection of songs, seeing as he couldn't sleep without visions of her spread eagle on his piano infiltrating his dreams. A simple search of her name on the streaming music site to which he held a subscription yielded three songs, and, though the song in his queue wasn't one he’d ever heard of before, it fit the situation perfectly. Not to mention, the title was simply put, her name. When the music began, he turned to face her.

Chloe's jaw dropped in surprise once the song began and her eyes darted to the stereo as she stared at her name on the screen.

"You started it," he casually remarked as he turned the ignition.

Her sensually full mouth curved into a grin of sheer amusement."For a man who spent a decade of his life learning the classics, I can't believe you chose this song."

When the song ended, he glanced in her direction as he threw out a silent challenge. She fumbled with her phone for nearly a minute before he started laughing. "Where's that stockpile of songs you claimed to have?"

"I wasn't prepared," she answered, frantically searching her playlists.

"Too late, you missed the opportunity," he huffed.

She snorted her disapproval and stuffed her phone into her shirt pocket. Reaching into the backseat, she dug around into one of the bags until she found what she was looking for. Concentration tightened the delicate features of her face as she eyed the fabric in her hands.

"This is for your bedroom linens. What do you think of the color and design?" He didn't have a chance to respond to her question before she began explaining her choice. "It was a bit expensive, but you said there's no budget per se, and the colors and striped pattern will go well with the theme I have in mind." She quickly reached over the backseat again like a child at Christmastime searching for her new toy. "The duvet fabric is even more beautiful—a dark masculine color that will go well with the tiger-maple in your master suite. I hope I didn’t overstep my
boundaries
by not calling you first,” she emphasized the word with a small smile. “I mean, I can always take it back if you don’t like it.”

He pulled the car to the side of the road and faced her. "You don't have to defend your choices to me,
Minou
. These are great selections. I expect you to make some decisions on your own. Going with your instincts is what will make you a better designer. However, when it comes to bigger matters, I insist that you consult with me. I want to be kept in the loop and see how things are progressing, so don’t hesitate to contact me." Her irises darted between his eyes and his mouth. "Which brings me to the subject of the budget."

The look on her face changed from one of surprise to nervous apprehension. Logan reached into the center console for his wallet. He retrieved the prepaid card that was inside and handed it to Chloe.

"I've put you on this card as an authorized user and loaded it with enough money to cover your expenses for materials for awhile. If you need more, let me know. I want a itemized list sent to me weekly. Also, write up a receipt for what you’ve purchased today and I'll reimburse you."

Without saying anything, Chloe reached for her phone and found a song in a matter of seconds. The title alone said everything:
Hypnotic.
He shook his head and grinned at her clever choice. She wasn't the only one hypnotized.

When her dark eyes stared back at him with some unnamed emotion, he didn't dare try to decipher what she might be feeling. Anyway, it didn't matter. The only thing planned was a day out in the city, not a date, and sure as hell not a life-long commitment—no matter how fucking adorable she was.