Gray
“Gray, Tessa Madigan is here for your meeting,” Eli said from the door to my office. I looked up from my computer to see her standing in the doorway next to my brother.
“Tessa, great.” I stood, walking around my desk to usher her in. I was afraid she wouldn’t show up with all the times she’d cancelled on me before. “Come on in.”
Eli gave me a grin and a thumbs up behind her back, and I gave him a quick shake of the head. Which escalated Eli to bobbing his eyebrows up and down, so I sent him my grow-up-and-cut-that-shit-out look. Which rarely worked on Eli.
“Sorry I had to schedule so late in the day.” She was dressed in a gray long-sleeved shirt, a worn pair of blue jeans, and the flats she always wore.
“A couple of us are working late tonight, and we’re getting Red Dragon. Want us to order something for you and Tessa since you’ll be working through dinner also?” Now Eli had a wide cheesy smile which his blond beard did nothing to hide.
“That sounds great. Tessa? Does that sound okay to you?” Maybe she’d be the voice of reason and keep this strictly business only and not fuzzy up the line.
“I’d love it.” She smiled at me and then moved it over to Eli. “But only if they offer MSG-free.”
“Exactly.” Eli pointed a finger at her. “We’ll place an order in an hour.” He made a click noise with his mouth, and was gone, the door shut behind him.
“Okay. A working dinner.” I clapped my hands together, sending Tessa an enthusiastic smile. “Let’s sit down and get started.”
I guided her over to the small table I had in the corner of my office, completely keeping my gaze and mind off her slim, sleek figure. Her curves were subtle, but there. Not that I was noticing. Nope. Not noticing. Not noticing her light floral scent either. Nope. Didn’t even notice the fresh smell of citrus of her hair when I helped her settle into a chair.
“Actually, before we begin… I signed the kitchen contract you emailed me last night. I’d like to pay the deposit and set a day to start.” She released a nervous laugh. “Once I make a decision, I like to move on it. Life’s short, you know?”
“Let me grab your paperwork.” I moved back to my desk, selected her file from the stack and returned with the calendar and the payment schedule. “As far as a start date, we can start as soon as next week.”
“Perfect.” Tessa pulled her wallet from her purse, wrote out a check, and handed it over. “I’ll take the first available day.”
“I’ll check with Frank and see when his crew can be available for demo and get back to you.” Beck would be happy. I was pretty sure he thought I’d blown this sale. There were days if not weeks when I’d thought I’d blown it too. “Now, let’s see if we can find a way to help you with the rest of your renovation.”
Running along the wall behind the table I had floor-to-ceiling bookshelves full of books on style, color, and architecture along with sample catalogues from various vendors I worked with. I had sample mood boards made for just this purpose. And I had plenty of my go-to websites for design.
Tessa released a quick breath. “I’m sorry to be such a pain. I’ll try not to frustrate you too much, but know that if I do, it’s unintentional.”
Frustrate me? I had a fond memory of the first few meetings with Tessa, back when my frustration was due to her contrariness. Hell, instead of complaining I should have been counting my blessings. Because lately my frustration with Tessa was different. Now, I was frustrated because she kept invading my thoughts. Now, it was because her quirky and unpredictable personality made me smile more often than frown. Because of the way her big green eyes went soft when she looked at her dog or spoke to her dad, but also bright with passion when she talked about her business and her plans.
I wanted to taste that passion and wrap myself up in that softness. I wouldn’t for a variety of reasons, but that want was still there. It burned in my gut. I’d already sliced my hands through her curls and grabbed her to me for a deep, wet kiss. I’d taken her soft lips. I’d tasted them. I’d plundered them with my tongue. And I wasn’t talking about in my dreams. I couldn’t be on account of I wasn’t sleeping. No, these kisses had happened in my head while I lay in bed wide awake not sleeping.
But I was a professional. I could set aside any personal feelings and focus on the client’s needs. I would set aside my fascination with Tessa and give her the attention she needed as a client.
Although it suddenly struck me that something was different today.
“Where’s Sully?” I’d never seen her without her dog.
“He’s having a playdate with his brother, Sampson, my dad’s dog. The two of them go crazy together, and pretty much drive my father bananas. Which he secretly loves.” She laughed. “He’s got a big fenced-in yard, so Sully gets a chance to run around. Tires both the dogs out and then my dad drops him back at my place and everyone’s happy.”
“Sounds like a perfect setup. All right, if you’re ready, let’s get started. First off, it’s not unusual for someone to have no idea what they like or want in their most personal spaces. People live busy lives. And sometimes figuring out your style takes time.”
“So, what you’re saying is there’s hope for me.”
“Absolutely. I thought we’d start off simple. I’ll have you click through a set of design slides and you tell me what strikes you about each slide. I’ll take notes, and we’ll begin to get an idea of where to start. Okay?”
“Ready, boss,” she said, resting her palms flat on the table in front of her, taking this very seriously.
I felt my lips twitch at her intense concentration but stayed quiet and began clicking through the slides. It was always enlightening what you could learn about a person during the design process. So many of our likes and dislikes stem from our childhoods. To our connections to the people we love.
A man who loved brick fireplaces because they reminded him of his home growing up. Or a woman who surrounded herself with chintz because her grandmother used to have a make-up bench she’d let the woman sit on and play with her makeup as a child. So much of design and what people surround themselves with was about connections to happy memories. To love.
Personally, I didn’t have those. But like I’d mentioned to Tessa, I had things I connected to my parents and the many, many trailer parks or public housing complexes we’d lived in that helped me know what I didn’t like.
Slowly, slide by slide, Tessa Madigan came into focus. Bright spaces. Sunshine. Traditional. Simple lines. Soft colors, but not neutral. Contrast, such as white and blue together. Or blue and yellow. Comfort over style. Over-stuffed couches with clean lines. Not modern. Although sometimes a little edgy. Sea glass. Soft birch wood. Light airy spaces in the public spaces. A little darker, more sensual in the bedroom. Deep purple and aqua. Dark gray. Plump comforters. Elegant lighting.
After about an hour of looking through photos and various websites, Tessa sat back, placing her hand on my forearm. “Can we take a break?”
“Actually, I think we’re done. I think I have enough to work with. I can put together a few personalized mood boards for you. Those will let us know if we’re on the right track.”
“Knock, knock. Got your dinner,” Eli said, walking through the door with a bag of take-out. Ash was right behind him carrying—oh, for fuck’s sake—a vase of flowers and two votive candles.
Of course the two of them were grinning like crazy ax murderers as they set up a very “romantic” mood for our meal. Fucking jerks. I believe I had mentioned that Thorne brothers took bets very seriously. We also didn’t have a hard limit for how far we’d stoop to win.
I kept my mouth shut. It was like that scene in the movie A Few Good Men and Tom Cruise told Demi Moore, both lawyers, that every time she objected, it only called more attention to the thing she was objecting to.
So, I sat back while my brothers set up our take-out Lo Mein, sweet and sour shrimp, and spring rolls like they were damn maître d’s at a five-star restaurant. Eli even moved to tuck a napkin at my neck and a dirty scowl from me nipped that in the damn bud.
But do you think my brothers stopped there? They did not. They pulled up chairs to the table and joined us. (This was not the issue.) No, where they kept going was when they invited Tessa over to my place. You heard that right. My place. What. The. Fuck.
“Tessa, I’m telling you, Gray has amazing style sense.” Ash was working through his order of Kung Pao chicken. “Most of the time when all of us brothers get together, we end up at Gray’s instead of any of our places. It’s got a nice vibe. Nice to hang out in.”
I silently ate my sweet and sour shrimp while wondering how much food he’d have to shove in each bite until his mouth was too full to talk.
“Ash isn’t exaggerating at all,” Eli said, pointing a chopstick in my direction. “Gray’s taste is both eye-catching and soothing. I can’t explain it. You really have to see it. I think part of it is his use of color.”
Exaggerating? More like over-selling? Pushing? Pimping? I’m not saying I didn’t have a unique sense of style. I liked it. I’m saying, I didn’t want to be alone in my apartment with Tessa. Maybe worse. Maybe I couldn’t be alone in my apartment with Tessa.
“I’d love to see it. I admire when people are bold with color. I like it in other people’s spaces, but when I think about it for me, I chicken out and play it safe in my own house. In other words, my color choices are boring.”
Ash nodded along with her. “I know what you mean. And seeing color on a website or in a magazine isn’t the same as seeing it in real life. You really want to see Gray’s accent wall in his bedroom. Fucking gorgeous, if you’ll pardon my language. But it is.”
“What’s the name of the color you used, Gray?” Eli prodded.
“It doesn’t have a name. I had my paint guy mix it for me.” This was true. I’d painted more patches in my bedroom than a designer ever wants a client to go through. I couldn’t find the exact color I wanted, so I had him create it. It took a little trial and error. Okay, a lot of trial and error, but I did love that wall.
Tessa blinked her green eyes at me, so innocent, so easily led by my brothers, the pimps. “I’d really love to see it. Any chance we can pop by now? I’m free.”
The image of Tessa, standing in my bedroom with her hands flat against my wall, her soft gray sweater and jeans on the floor at her feet while I took her from behind, flashed through my brain.
I flicked my gaze to Ash, and then over to Eli.
They both sat there grinning like fucking monkeys on acid.
I decided three was actually the perfect number of brothers. Five was two too many.
“Sure, Tessa. Now’s great.” Because later I’d be busy killing my brothers.
* * * *
My apartment was only a few minutes from the office, so it was a short drive. I wasn’t my normal talkative self, as I had thoughts of Tessa—a naked Tessa—on my mind. Thoughts I was trying to wrangle and shove in a box, then bury it in the back yard of my soul. Deep.
Luckily Tessa filled the quiet by talking about colors she remembered from her mother’s garden that she might like to see in her house.
I paid attention, but my heart wasn’t in it. My dick, on the other hand, was telling me it would be happy to handle the situation. Fucker.
After parking in the under-ground garage, we rode the elevator up. Tessa had gotten quiet too, but sometimes that was what happened in elevators. I was busy having a conversation with my brain, my conscience, and my dick. I wanted everyone on the same page.
Here was the plan: Go into my apartment. Turn on every light in the place. Do not offer Tessa a drink. Walk through the open family room, dining, kitchen space—quickly—while pointing out style items as we walked. Tell her to go on back into the bedroom to look at the wall, and when she came back out—leave.
A simple in-and-out procedure, so to speak.
Here was what happened: We took two steps into my apartment—I had just closed the front door—when Tessa turned, stepped in close to me, close enough to feel her heat, and looked up at me with her gorgeous green eyes. She smiled a tentative, sweet smile.
God, I liked her smile. I liked it a lot. Tried to bury it. Tried to ignore what it was doing to my body.
“Tessa, I think I should be honest here, and tell you my brothers set you up. What happened back there in my office—was pure manipulation on their part. They put on the hard sell, and made it almost impossible for you to say no.”
“I think I should be honest too… I know. I knew what they were doing, and I could easily have said no. I didn’t want to.”
“You didn’t?”
“No.”
“You know this isn’t about paint, right? I mean, that’s not why they tricked you over here.”
“I was hoping it had nothing to do with paint the whole way over here. And they didn’t trick me.” She stepped even closer, until her breasts rubbed lightly against my chest. She tilted her head back and whispered, “I have a confession. I came here hoping you’d kiss me.”
I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t think twice. I dropped my head and pressed my lips against hers. She opened to me. I swept my tongue in, wrapped my arms around her and instantly pivoted, pressing her to the door with my body. I gave in to the need that had only grown each time I was near her. We kissed. A deep, wet kiss.
The sad truth was, I hadn’t been able to get Tessa out of my mind. Thinking of her these last few weeks had me hard and horny. And fuck me, because being hard, horny, and short on sleep was not going to win me the bet with Ash and Eli. And fuck me twice, because it was feeling like my dick didn’t care about the bet. My brain gave it one last shot. Client, asshole.
“No, Tessa, we’ve got to stop. I’ve got to stop.” I pulled my lips from her soft, sweet skin and took a step back from the temptation that was Tessa Madigan. “We’ve got a signed contract. I don’t have many rules, but I don’t sleep with a client. I never have, and I can’t cross that line.”
Tessa looked around the room wild-eyed, seemingly at a loss. Totally got that. I could barely breathe myself, let alone think.
“Actually, this isn’t a problem,” she said, her breath coming in soft pants, as her gaze whipped to mine and held me in place. “It’s not. Because you’re fired.”
Fuck. Me.