Ulterior Designs (House of Evans Book 1) (33 page)

When the trolley came to a side street several blocks away from her apartment, she jumped off while barely escaping falling on her face. She kicked off her shoes and bent over to pick them up. When she stood, Logan was parked on the wrong side of the street with his car door thrown open.

“Get in,” he called out.

“No thanks. I’ll walk from here.”

She took a few steps only to have him inch his way along next to her with his door hanging open.

“I’d threaten to paddle your ass for being so damned obstinate, but it seems pointless seeing as you like it so much,” he grumbled. “I’m not, however, opposed to hog-tying you and throwing you in the back seat. Now, get in.”

Chloe froze and stared into the car at him. She didn’t know whether to laugh at the expression of grave seriousness on his face or keep walking. When she felt herself wobbling on her feet, she gave in and climbed into his car. Reaching across her body, he strapped the seatbelt over her chest before giving her a frustrated roll of his eyes.

The short drive to her apartment was spent in silence. No words. No music. Nothing. It was appropriate seeing as their channels of communication seemed to be completely blocked.

Parked in front of her building, Chloe glanced at Logan. “Want to come up and fuck?”

His lips thinned with displeasure and he let out an agitated sigh. “I think I’ll pass,” he growled.

With a casual lift of her shoulders, she exited the car and called over her shoulder. “See you on Monday.”

It had taken her longer than usual to climb her stairs, each one taken carefully as to not fall on her face. Two steps inside her apartment, she heard a knock on her door. With her door chained, she cracked it open.

“I changed my mind,” Logan murmured.

The feral look on his face that she had seen on countless occasions was back.
God, she loved that look.
He was so beautiful, and that wasn’t the alcohol talking. That was her heart. But her heart was a damned fool. And so was she for having made an offer to
fuck
him when what she really wanted to do was make love.

“So did I,” she answered as she slowly closed the door. “I’m allowed to do that.”

T
he moment door closed in Logan’s face, a wave of regret sucker punched him. He had let Chloe down so spectacularly, in so many ways, on so many occasions, that he’d defeated her spirit. At least for the moment. She was strong and, yet, so fragile. He’d known that from the very beginning.

As he stood in the empty hallway staring at her door, he knew what he wanted—to be
that guy
—the one who could offer her not only stability, but happiness—even if it was only temporary. Though things might not last forever with her, at least he could enjoy the allotted time fate had granted them.

Unsure of how to go about explaining to Chloe that he was willing to …
to what
? He had no idea.
Try
, he supposed. That was all he could do—
try.
Hopefully that was good enough.

Forcing down his fear of rejection, he lifted his hand and knocked on her door. Though, this time was not like before—not forceful or demanding, but warily. If she didn’t answer, he would …
what
? Walk away? He didn’t even know if that was possible. When she didn’t answer, he softly rapped on the door once more.
But only once more
.

When the seconds turned into a minute, his shoulders drooped. Backing away with an unsteady gait, he turned, only to hear movement from the other side of the door. The chain being removed caused a surge of hopefulness to rise up inside of him. Slowly, Chloe revealed herself. Sad eyes and a somber expression greeted him.

With a deep sigh, Chloe shook her head. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I wish I knew the answer to that,” he whispered.

“You can have anyone woman you want, Logan. Women who will give you what you want without a …” Her statement went unfinished.

Maybe she was right, though he doubted it. The kind of women he sought,
the woman
he wanted, required what she couldn’t even bring herself to say—
commitment
.

When she stared back at him in silence, he tentatively dipped his toes into the shallow end of her pool. “I want to be with you tonight. And tomorrow and the next.”

“And after that?” she asked.

“I can’t answer that. But I’m willing to re-evaluate our situation on an as-needed-basis.”

Chloe’s eyes widened ever-so-slightly, and the corners of her mouth tipped upward. “
Re-evaluate our situation
?”

“On an as-needed-basis,” he repeated. “I know it’s not much …”

Chloe cut in, “It’s more than I ever expected of you. But if you’re only saying these things to me so that I’ll go with you tomorrow, I’ll never forgive you.”

“I know you’re not going, Chloe. You’ve made that abundantly clear, and I’m done talking about that. I just want to get you into bed and rest. I’m so exhausted and you’re still clearly
pompette.
”

For the first time in days, she smiled at him. Though cynical and a shade wary, she took a hold of the waistband of his pants and tugged him inside her apartment. A glimpse at her expression as she led him to her bedroom told him she was just as tired as he was.

Standing next to the bed, he undressed her and briefly disappeared into the bathroom to retrieve a wet washcloth. Upon his return, Chloe was seated on the edge of the bed. He knelt between her legs and dabbed at the make-up on her face, taking care to remove all traces of it. The
au naturel
version of Chloe he had grown to adore stared back him, sending a rush of emotions rioting through him. She had forgiven him—again—like she always seemed to do.

Once he’d gotten undressed, he snuck under the covers and positioned himself behind her, their nude bodies pressed together. Lying there next to her in that tiny apartment, it felt like home, though he imagined
anyplace
she was next to him would feel like home.

As her breathing slowed and deepened, he whispered into her ear, “I’m sorry for what happened on the cross. I won’t ever take your submission for granted again.”

Shifting next to him, she rolled onto her back to face him and thrust her hand into his hair. With her fingers grazing his scalp, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to believe that this thing with Chloe would last forever.

*

When Chloe woke on Saturday morning to find Logan still next to her, a feeling of elation mixed with disbelief fluttered low in her belly. She leaned in to kiss him, but hesitated as she measured him a moment. Her composure was little more than a fragile shell around her as she lay there considering all that had happened between them.

Forcing herself out of bed and out of her head, she showered and dressed, while Logan slept in. She was working on tweaking the chandeliers yet again when she heard his footsteps coming down the stairs. Grabbing a linen drop cloth that lay nearby, she flung it over the light fixtures to shield them from his view. A glance at the clock on her work table shocked her. It was nearly one in the afternoon.

With lazy confidence and a big yawn, Logan came through the door of her garage sporting unbuttoned jeans, bare feet and only his undershirt. His apology from the night before was still fresh in her mind, and rather than fear for their future, she focused on the good moments between them. She seemed to be good at doing that, but she knew that if he failed her again, there would be no forgiveness left in reserve for him.

“You’d better get home soon. You need to get ready for your dinner,” she called over her shoulder as she began to clean up her work station.

“Fuck that nomination dinner.”

Spinning around to face him, she found him inspecting a lamp she had fashioned from an industrial metal piece, reclaimed wood and an Edison-style filament bulb.

Changing the subject, he asked, “How does this work?”

“The cast iron acts as a touch sensor,” she commented with pinched brows. “Logan, you really need to get going. It’ll take you an hour to get home, then another hour back here …”

“I want this for my office,” he answered, refusing to acknowledge her statement as he flipped the lamp over to examine the reproduction cloth-covered cord. “How much?”

“Logan,” she drew his name out.

“How much?” he repeated with more emphasis.

“A night of amazing oral sex,” she commented offhand.

“Just one night? This seems worth more than one nights’ worth of carpet munching.”

Chloe rolled her eyes at his crudeness, making him chuckle.

“Seriously, Logan, the
dinner.
”

It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes. “Seriously, Chloe,
fuck that dinner.
A night in with you sounds more appealing anyway. At any rate,” his voice lowered, “there are several people going that I could do without seeing.”

“You can’t
not
go. You’ve been nominated. Your firm has been nominated—the firm that offered you a partnership,” she stressed. “Why are we discussing this? You’re a grown man. You know what your responsibilities are,” she huffed and strode toward him to snatch the lamp out of his hands like a child with a toy who wasn’t paying attention.

Logan lifted his shoulders in his signature couldn’t-care-less shrug before reaching for the lamp again and tearing it from her hands. “Fine,” he grumbled after a long minute of deliberation.

Back in her apartment, he dressed and begrudgingly said his goodbyes. But not before delivering one last savage kiss that told her something was amiss. Then again, she was so accustomed to walking on eggshells, she didn’t know if her instincts about him were right anymore. Every time she thought she had him figured out, he did a 360-degree turn and proved her wrong.

With Logan gone, Chloe found plenty to do. Seeing as he liked her touch lamp so much, she decided make two more larger versions to adorn the wall of his office in lieu of the sconces she had originally planned. She had all the components she needed, except the larger bulbs, which she could buy on Monday on her way into Napa.

Seated on her
reading chair,
leaned back comfortably, she drew out the plans for the final room of the house that would get the Stephens Treatment—the spare room. She was going to make it something spectacular. Other than the color scheme, Logan hadn’t really given her any guidance or direction as to how he wanted it to look. She was taking a chance by doing it on her own without consulting him, but she was fairly sure what she had planned would dazzle him.

As she browsed at seating and fabrics online, she heard the familiar
tap tap tap
of Logan’s knock on her door. She glanced up at the wall clock, shocked that he wasn’t already on the way to his event.

She threw the door open ready to read him the riot act when he thrust the dress and shoes at her.

“Get dressed,” he glowered.

“I already told you,” she began before he backed her into her apartment and interrupted her.

“I mean it, Chloe. Put the damned dress on.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she stood toe-to-toe with him, not giving an inch.

“I’m not going without you,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, right,” she huffed.

One look at his designer navy blue, sharkskin vested suit, patterned shirt and coordinating platinum tie said he wasn’t actually planning on a spending a night in with her. Seemingly on a mission to prove her wrong, he strode into the living room, tossed the shoes and dress onto her couch and planted himself next to them. When he loosened his tie and started to kick his shoes off, Chloe’s mouth parted in horror.

With his head leaned back, he let out a deep breath, as if relieved he wouldn’t be burdened with having to attend the dinner, Chloe gave in. He was just stubborn enough to not go, and she’d be damned if she was going to the reason for his excuse to not attend.

*

Logan had no sooner closed his eyes when he felt Chloe’s presence next to him. Compelled to pry his eyes open, she had disappeared into her bedroom with the dress and shoes in her hands. He was both relieved and disgruntled.

Yes, he was a grown man with responsibilities, but sometimes he just didn’t feel like being
that guy—
the one who was going to have to pretend to be civil to people who didn’t deserve civility. Oh hell, Chloe was right and he damned well knew it. It was an honor to have been nominated, and with an outstanding design team behind him as well.

As if Chloe had been on a quest to get ready in record time, she came out looking like an absolute fucking wet dream. Hair pulled into a low ponytail and draped over one shoulder, burgundy lips, a hint of eye-shadow, a touch of blush, a smudge of mascara and liner—her radiance was staggering. Long, nude legs under white silk, muscular calves enhanced by four-inch pumps, perky braless tits, and an ass that begged to be both fucked and paddled—she looked the part of a full-blown trophy wife.

He might have been mortified at the thought, had he not been so turned on and feeling so damned lucky. Not to mention, proud of his fashion choices.

“Now, was that so hard?” he commented as his eyes continued to rake over her body, trying to etch every detail of that moment into his memory.

With annoyance shimmering in her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you want me to go or not?”

“Oh, you’re going.”

In three long strides he was on her, a hand on her waist and the other on her neck pulling her to him.

“Thank you for going with me,” he breathed into her parted lips before pushing his tongue past them.

“Like I had a choice,” she panted against his mouth when he broke for air.

“Life is full of choices,
Minou
.”

She gave him a shake of her head followed by a sarcastic smile. “Not the
choices
speech again.” She smoothed her skirt over her thighs and a sweet smile flitted across her mouth. “I’ve never been to any kind of formal event. I mean,” she added with a lift of her shoulders, “I know this is only a semi-formal, but even at that, I never went to any of my school dances.”

“Not even your proms?”

“No,” she whispered as if embarrassed. “I was a late bloomer. No one asked me, and I was too self-conscious to ask anyone myself.”

Logan felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He recalled her excitement when he mentioned that she could dress up,
and his cruel response.
God, he was a jackass
.

Taking a hold of her hand, he brought it to his lips as he gazed at her. “Well then, I’m happy to be your first.”

****

The moment Logan and Chloe entered the venue, a jolt of excitement made her body flush. The scent of colognes and perfumes was intoxicating, the view of images and miniature models of the nominated projects was staggering, and the sound of light jazz music, merry voices, and tinkle of ice cubes invigorating. A large wall of
Cantina
doors open to the outside to allow the enduring bouquet of fresh flowers in. Below the music, one could hear the resonance of a fountain splashing and the wail of a far away siren stretching across the large room.