Chapter 1
Chanel
The cordless phone rang and I snatched it up, one hand gripping the portfolio of fabric swatches for Mrs. Jones. I swiped at the buttons, then rammed the receiver against my ear. “Scott’s Interiors, how may I help you?”
“Do you really think it’s necessary to answer the phone like that? Everyone in town already knows who you are.”
“Morning, Paula,” I replied. My best friend usually called earlier than this to give me the details of her commute out of her small town and into the big city for work.
“Did you have a good day yesterday?”
“Uh, yah! I met the cutest guy at work. He had such a tight –”
“Paula.”
“Oh, don’t be such a prude. You’ve got to live a little. You’re nineteen, not ninety. Besides, it’s not like you don’t check guys out when you get the chance.”
I never get the chance – curse of running an interior design store in Meek Springs.
“Did you hear about the cold front coming in this afternoon?”
“Don’t change the subject to weather. That’s so predictable.”
“I’m serious, Paula. It’s another blizzard. There’s going to be snow on the Rocky Mountains and everything.”
“Yawn. Wait, this doesn’t affect our plans to go out, right?”
I rolled my eyes and placed the portfolio on top of the glass counter in my store.
“What plans? We didn’t make any plans.”
“We always have plans, whether you know it or not.”
I turned my back on the floor to ceiling windows at the front, and fiddled with the vases on display. Straightened the china here, adjusted a few flowers there. They were all samples of what I could do given the chance. “I don’t want to go out,” I said.
“Oh God, please help me. You’ve got to blow the cobwebs off your pussy before –”
“Paula!” I flinched and knocked one of the vases onto its side. It rolled to the edge of the shelf and dropped to the hardwood boards. Crash! Splinters of bone china shot across floor. I crouched and cursed under my breath.
“Gosh, relax,” Paula hissed. “It’s just a saying.”
“No, Paula, that’s not a saying.” I rose and examined the mess at my feet. Ugh, I’d have to get the dustpan for this. It’d been such a beautiful piece, too. “And I don’t need to blow cobwebs off my pussy. That’s just a disgusting –”
Someone cleared their throat behind me.
Oh. My. God.
“I gotta go,” I whispered, and hung up. My cheeks transmogrified into blood oranges. If this didn’t travel around Meek Springs like wildfire, I didn’t know what would. Damn Paula and her weird idioms.
I squared my shoulders and spun around to face the newcomer. If anything, my face only grew hotter.
The most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on stood in front of the counter. He wore a uniform – Navy SEALs – and memories of my father crashed home and washed away the present.
“Ma’am?”
I snapped focus back to him. Huge muscles, so tall he towered over me, and a handsome face. Not Justin Bieber handsome either – ew, I’ve never liked that pretty boy look. Dark eyes, matching hair, skin tanned from hours in the sun, and lines on his forehead.
He was probably thirty or something, way too old for me. Not that I had a chance – God, Paula really had gotten to me. And he had to be one of the soldiers from the base up in the mountains. Most of the town was in an uproar over it. They called it an eye sore, but I didn’t see the big deal.
These were men who served our country. If they needed a base up there, who were we to complain about it?
“I’ll come back later, ma’am,” the officer said.
“No, sorry! I- sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to come in this early,” I said, and glanced at the antique grandfather clock opposite. It was just past 8 am on a Saturday morning. Folks in Meek Springs usually hunkered down during the cold hours. “I didn’t mean anything by that cobweb thing. I –” No, no, shut up. Don’t talk about that to the super handsome soldier guy. Idiot, idiot!
The lieutenant hovered on the brink of marching off.
“Is there something I can help you with, Officer… uh?”
“Baker,” he said. “Ryan Baker. There’s no need to call me by my title, ma’am.”
“Okay, then there’s no need to call me ‘ma’am.’ Ha, it kind of makes me feel like I’m my mother.” And my mother was the last thing I wanted to be. She probably would have booted the soldier out of the store if she’d been here. Thankfully, she didn’t involve herself in the running of the place. Only the payments. “My name is Chanel Scott,” I said.
“Good to meet you, Miss Scott.” I could tell he was resisting the urge to call me ‘ma’am’ again. Soldier habits died hard, apparently.
“Just Chanel.” I spared him a sweet smile. “You’re from the base,” I said. I had no idea what it was called, but it was a secret base. “What do you guys do up there?”
“Pardon, ma’am?”
I let the formality slide that time. “Oh, you know, I just wondered. Nobody knows what you guys get up to in those mountains. Most of the town is really shifty about it, so I thought maybe you–”
“That’s classified information, ma’am,” he said, whip-crack loud.
I snapped my mouth shut. Okay, that was a bad idea. “Right,” I said. “So, what can I help you with Officer Baker?” I didn’t bother calling him by his full title, even though I could discern he was a Lieutenant Commander not an Officer. Let him feel the sting of that insult a little.
Gosh, since when had I been petty? Maybe, it was because any hopes of being swept off my feet by a handsome navy man had been dashed like the china vase I crunched over to get to the portfolio. I lifted the thick book and hugged it to my chest.
“I’m not sure you can, ma’am,” he said, and tucked his hands behind his back.
Well, that made sense. No wonder he’d come into my interior design store. “Let me hear what you need. Maybe I’ll surprise you.” Too much innuendo in that. I grew hot all over again.
Ryan Baker sniffed and took a single step forward. Measured, precise. I got the distinct impression he had to be in control at all times. Frown lines deepened on his forehead. “I’m having some trouble creating a comfortable atmosphere for the soldiers in the base.”
“Oh?”
“It’s cold and clinical at the moment. I’d like something that will put my men at ease after a long day of training,” he replied. “What do you suggest?” He glanced at the cushy sofa pressed against the wall, the coffee table in front of it.
Did he think he could buy it? Load it up on that navy Jeep out there and – I narrowed my eyes at the vehicle. There was another soldier inside, sitting there with his arms folded, glaring into my store.
“Uh –”
“I’d like several of these sofas,” he said. “And maybe some curtains. Do you have curtain rails and those hook things?”
“This isn’t a hardware store,” I said. “I don’t sell stuff like that. And I’m not a furniture retailer either.”
“Then what do you do?” he asked, gruffly.
I spread my arms. “Interior design. I evaluate homes and office spaces, then help clients come up with their desired design scheme. After that, I implement it by ordering the necessary fabrics, curtains, and furniture from retailers in the big cities across –”
“Thank you for your time,” Ryan said, and marched for the exit.
“Hey, wait a second.” I crunched over the broken vase and grimaced. “Lieutenant, wait!”
He froze with his palm pressed against the glass, looking back at me.
“If you let me evaluate the interior of the base I can help you.” He didn’t have another option in Meek Springs. I was the only store that specialized in that kind of thing around here. “I can make it a warm space for your men. Relaxing.”
“I don’t think so,” he said.
“Why?”
He didn’t turn. “It’s a top secret facility, ma’am. I’m not permitted to allow civilians on the premises.”
“But you can get a permit for that,” I said. “A contractor’s permit?” I’d been around my father enough to know the lingo and understood what was and wasn’t allowed.
Baker’s expression shifted ever-so-slightly, but that cold professionalism slammed home again, right away. “That won’t be possible, ma’am.”
“Listen, I know I can help you out here. I’m the only option available in this town, and I’m good at what I do. If you’re serious about making your base more comfortable for the men up there then you should be open to –”
“Enough,” he said.
I glared at him. Enough? “I’m not one of your soldiers. And if you think you’re making a good impression on the folks in Meek Springs you can think again,” I said. So what if he’d heard me talk about pussy cobwebs? So what if he was strapping and attractive and everything I’d ever imagined a man to be. Clearly, he had serious attitude problems.
“I didn’t mean to offend,” he said, stiffly.
I planted my fists on my hips, in a pose which mimicked my mother. “A lot of the people here don’t want that base on the mountain anymore. They want to sign some kind of petition and deliver it to their local representative.” Not that it would make a bit of difference. If the U.S. Government wanted that special base in the Rocky Mountains, it was there to stay. “You’d do well to bear that in mind the next time you come down here.” Gosh, what on earth had gotten into me? I was never this critical. Or this forward, for that matter.
“Ma’am, I came in search of a service. That’s all. You can’t provide the service I need.”
“So you decided to be rude?”
“No.”
“And you realize I can provide the service you need? I’m literally the service you need,” I said, and didn’t drop the pose. Heat burned behind my eyes, anger and passion, and good God why did I want to rip the man’s shirt right off?
Lieutenant Baker brought out a whole new side to me.
“I can’t have civilians on the base, ma’am.” He still hadn’t turned to face me full on. “I’d better head out before the storm hits. Thank you for your time, Chanel.”
My name on his lips equaled a shiver down my spine. He showed me his broad, muscled back and left the store. He trooped out to that Jeep and to the driver’s side, clunked open the door, and got in.
The other soldier said a few words but Ryan ignored him and started the engine. He roared off down the street, leaving a wake of exhaust fumes.
“Wow,” I said. “What was that about?” It couldn’t just be my interpretation – the lieutenant had been more than a little upset about my suggestion. He’d been professional and then downright cold.
I didn’t have much experience with men, one boyfriend, yikes, but I’d never been thoroughly rejected or ignored. Not that I was interested in Baker like that. We’d just met and he was rude, and obnoxious, and thoroughly magnetic.
I sighed and traipsed to the office door, opened it then fetched the dustpan from the supply closet inside.
Curiosity danced through my mind. What kind of base was that? What did they have to hide from the public? I marched back into the store and swept up the china, spared a thought for the loss of its beauty.
“Ugh,” I said. “Great start to the day.”