Beautifully Flawed (Shine Design Series Book 2) Page 17

  She scheduled movers to take large pieces over to the new house, and handpicked everything else from custom furniture, to beautiful artwork, and loads of accessories. They’d get to spend one night at the new place before he left tomorrow. Official practice for Maverick started the following morning.

  “Okay. Well, at least we don’t live far from one another.” She chuckled and ran her hand through his hair wavy hair. She liked their little world here at the lake and worried about all the changes they were about to face.

  “I want you to stay with me when we get back,” he said, and his lips made their way down her neck.

  Gasping, she pushed him back and moved to sit up with her back against the headboard. “I can’t be logical when you’re kissing me.”

  “Then say yes. Stay with me, and there’s nothing to discuss.”

  “You’ve lost your marbles. I’m not some kept woman. I have a home, and a job, and a life back in the city.” She pulled the sheet around her body. There’d be no way to have a conversation with him if she didn’t cover up. The man had some kind of VIP pass to her lady parts, and right now she needed to focus on the conversation. Things were going to change, and they’d both have to be flexible.

  “I know. But with my practice schedule and you working, I want to have our nights together.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  “I do too. I think we should take turns staying at each other’s place. It’s called compromise.”

  “You live in a high rise. What about Daisy?”

  “Nice try, Wallace. People have dogs in my building. There’s even a cute dog park on the main floor.”

  He rolled on his back and looked up at the ceiling. “So stubborn, Peaches.”

  “I’m not being stubborn. I’m meeting you halfway. You’re the one who doesn’t want to bend.”

  He rolled on his side and faced her, and his gaze locked with hers. “Move in with me.”

  She laughed. Assumed he was kidding. Once she realized it wasn’t a joke, she shook her head. “Maverick Wallace, you could drive a preacher to drink. We can’t move in together. We’ve only been dating for a few weeks. That’s not how this works.”

  “Why does it have to work a certain way? We can make our own rules. I know how I feel about you. You know how you feel about me. What’s the hang up?” He ran his knuckles gently down her cheek, and it took all her strength to think logically.

  “What’s the rush?”

  “I want to be with you.”

  Her entire body warmed. He loved her. Really loved her. In a way no one ever had. She loved him so much she felt like her heart might explode sometimes.

  “We should exchange keys.” Once again, she was compromising. He was used to getting his way. But relationships were about give and take. They’d need to be flexible and meet in the middle.

  He rolled his eyes. “Do you have a rule about shacking up? Please don’t tell me you have to be married before you move in with me?”

  “Well, sure. I’d prefer to be married. I mean it’s the long-term goal, right? And why do you assume I’m moving in with you? Maybe you’ll move in with me, you stubborn ass.”

  “Semantics, Peaches. But I wouldn’t marry someone I didn’t live with first,” he said, and her stomach twisted in a knot. Not what she wanted to hear. What was the purpose of living together first? To wait and see all her flaws and then decide if he still wanted her? Marriage was about unconditional love, not a safety net or a way out when things got rough.

  Been there, done that.

  “See, Wallace. These are conversations one normally has before shacking up. If you aren’t sure about me, then we certainly aren’t ready to live together. We’ve never discussed children, or what we both want out of life.”

  “Yes, we have. You want the fairy-tale. I think we already have it. I’m crazy about you, which makes me the perfect prince. And as far as not being sure about you—you couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve never been so sure of anything. I just don’t think we need some piece of paper to be together. At least not now. I’m not saying I’m against it. Not if it makes you happy. But I want you to live with me now. And we have Daisy. She’s kind of like a kid, right? Minus the shit diapers and lack of sleep. The only reason we’re having sleepless nights is because I can’t keep away from you.”

  His chuckle rumbled against her lips and his mouth covered hers. Sweet baby Jesus. Maverick sure had a way of distracting her. The conversation could wait. Her fingers tangled into his hair. Would she ever tire of this man?

  Doubtful.

  ****

  Camille arrived prompt as always. Elle worked late into the night and the house looked incredible. Maverick left for the city less than twenty-four hours ago, and she missed him already. He’d insisted on christening as many rooms as possible. The man was insatiable, and she enjoyed all of it.

  “Oh my, this view is breathtaking.” Camille exuded confidence as she stepped out of her champagne colored Mercedes, her white linen suit similar to the outfit Elle wore the day she arrived in Lake Tahoe. So much had changed in a short period of time.

  “Yes. It’s spectacular. How was your drive?”

  “Eventful. I just booked your next gig, and you’re welcome,” she said, as she walked up the driveway, pausing to look out at the turquoise water.

  “Wow. I’ve barely wrapped things up here. Does the new job start right away?”

  “It does. I’ll fill you in after you show me everything. Did Maverick make it back to the city?”

  “Yes. He left yesterday.” And dammit to hell if her chest didn’t tighten at the mention of his name.

  “What’s the story there? Your two partners in crime are very tight-lipped, but I’ve heard whispers in the office about a little romance between you and your client. Maverick also phoned me, gushing about your talent. It sounds like he’s as impressed with the woman as he is the design.” Camille crossed her arms in front of her chest, but her smirk carried a hint of humor.

  “I mean, it’s new. But yes, he’s amazing,” she said, and she could feel her cheeks heat.

  “I guess it’s too late for the don’t mix business with pleasure speech.” She chuckled and tucked one side of her white, shoulder-length bob behind her ear. “You’re an adult, I trust this won’t interfere with your work.”

  “Of course not. I’ll let my work speak for itself.”

  She led Camille through the front door, pausing in the entry to take in the great room, the magnificent views, and every detail in between.

  “Wow, your work is certainly doing the talking now,” she said on a gasp.

  The dark wide plank flooring set the tone in the masculine, yet classic cabin. The design screamed comfort, homey and cozy; however, it also managed to be rustic, modern, and stylish at the same time. Not the easiest design to pull off.

  Slip-covered couches and oversized chairs sectioned off the great room. There was a mix of fabrics with coordinating color palettes in plaids and solids throughout the space. Soft cottons donned some of the pieces, and velvet and chenille covered others. Tan and sage green were the predominant colors, with splashes of blues and creams adding detail in the accent pieces. Large shaggy cream area rugs warmed the dark floors. Rustic wood beams with dark metal brackets ran along the ceiling, while three large rustic chandeliers hung from the center of the ceiling in the main room.

  Camille was rarely speechless, but she didn’t say a word as she walked through the home, her gaze wide and a smile spread clear across her face. She bent down to run her fingers along the large farm-style coffee table.

  “Magnificent pieces. I love how you sectioned these areas into two different living spaces without using walls, which provides a view of the lake from everywhere you stand in the room.”

  “Yes, it’s exactly what I envisioned the first time I stood here. The home was one big maze when we started, and the walls blocked the lake view from the entrance, family room, and kitchen. It’s so much better
open.”

  “Where did these couches and chairs come from? I love the way the mismatching fabrics warm the room. Rustic yet still chic and classic.”

  “Most of the furniture is custom. Every piece was made specifically for this home. A talented woodworker who grew up with Maverick made all the tables. I drew what we wanted, and it took some time to find the correct finish. He’s a talented carpenter, and he nailed it. Our timeline was longer due to all these factors, but I think it was worth the wait to have everything sized and selected specifically for this space.”

  “I could not agree more. The magazine is going to eat this design up. We may have a new clientele for cabin design,” Camille said with a chuckle, while she scanned and studied the details in each room.

  Elle’s favorite room in the house was the kitchen. The custom cream cabinets and the oversized island finished in distressed black stain, boasted an elegant farmhouse design.

  “Oh my. This counter is magnificent.” She ran her manicured nails along the smooth surface.

  “Yes. It’s quartz. I liked the cream with the black and tan specks. There are some pops of gold in there when the natural light comes through the window. It all ties together well.”

  “Agreed. These appliances are definitely chef worthy.” She checked out the top of the line oven and stovetop. The dishwasher and the refrigerator were custom as well, covered in the same wood as the cabinets.

  Camille made quite a fuss over the details in each room. A den filled with Maverick’s trophies and awards and footballs from the games he’d won over the years were displayed in glass boxes on the shelves. Framed photographs of his journey from childhood to this point in his career hung on the walls and were a collection his mother helped Elle put together.

  The doorbell startled her from the tour. Camille continued to rave about the incredible game room which held a pool table and several vintage pinball machines, as they made their way to the foyer to greet their guests.

  “Elle, you’ve outdone yourself. This is your best work. I’m floored. I see why Maverick is blown away.”

  “I’m really happy you’re pleased. I had a lot of fun with this project.”

  “I think your client did as well.” Camille winked.

  On the other side of the door stood a slew of people here to photograph the house. The next few hours were exhausting and exhilarating. They took shots of every room in the home, the gorgeous lakefront yard, and asked endless questions about the design choices. Her boss let her take the lead.

  When the last person waved goodbye, Camille fell back on the chair, kicked off her heals and propped her feet on the oversized coffee table. Elle followed suit and let out a long breath.

  “Impressive stuff, kiddo. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad you came up to do this with me.”

  “Of course. I wanted to see it in person. Facetime doesn’t do it justice. Take the rest of the week off, get yourself settled back in the city, and then you start your next project.”

  “Okay. What is it? Another home?” She enjoyed doing homes, getting to know the clients, and transforming residential spaces. But she was eager to take on larger commercial projects as well. She needed to spread her creative wings if she hoped to someday own a firm.

  Her boss looked down at her phone and typed a message to someone, before looking back up to meet her gaze. Something unfamiliar crossed her expression. Concern? Apprehension?

  “It’s not a house. It’s a large project. And they’ll only sign with us if you are the designer.”

  Elle sat forward, rubbed her hands together. “Okay. It sounds great.”

  “I hope so. The project is Efant Capital. They want a full renovation of their San Francisco office. Is it a conflict for you? They won’t work with anyone else. It was their one stipulation.”

  Her chest tightened. Why in the world did they want a full renovation? The building was in great shape and had been renovated two years ago. Edward never mentioned the idea of revamping it to her. He’d reached out a few times over the past few weeks and sent flowers to her in Lake Tahoe after prying the address out of her mother. She called to let him know about her relationship with Maverick, per her boyfriend’s insistence. They hadn’t talked since. She wanted to remain friends but needed to put some distance there. Maverick didn’t like Edward and didn’t hide his irritation over the flowers. But Edward didn’t live in the city full time, and they didn’t run in the same social circles aside from Mama and Winston. Maybe Edward’s father requested the remodel, and they were throwing it her way out of respect.

  “Who is the contact on their end?”

  Camille paused. “Edward Efant. He’ll be staying in San Francisco permanently until the renovation is complete.”

  She and Maverick’s safe little bubble was fracturing, and she hadn’t even made it back to the city yet.

  “You know he’s only doing this because he doesn’t like the idea of me being with someone else.”

  Camille nodded. “Keep it separate. This is where you need to put on your professional hat and get the job done.”

  In other words—put on your big girl panties and deal with it.

  “Yep, I get it. If you can’t run with the big dogs, you should stay under the porch. I’ve got this. You can count on me.”

  If Edward Efant thought he could rock the boat, he had another thing comin’. The man didn’t know dipshit from apple butter when it came to her and Maverick. She wouldn’t allow anything to come between them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maverick’s Playbook

  You don’t always get to call the plays!

  His first week back in the city was a shit storm. His training this summer prepared him well, but two-a-day practices were a bitch, no matter how good of shape you were in. He and Elle dove back into their busy lives headfirst, and though the outside noise proved challenging, they remained solid.

  Even when she told him her pain in the ass ex-boyfriend hired her to design his offices.

  “He’s dangling his family fortune over Camille Chadwick’s head to get his way. Like they say, once a douchebag—always a douchebag. I don’t like this, Elle.”

  He’d even tried calling Camille to ask if there was any way around the loophole, but she insisted there wasn’t. She’d keep her eye on the situation and make sure the Count behaved professionally. Naturally, he hadn’t told Elle about his call with Camille.

  “He’s doing this to get close to you. You know that, right?”

  “Shine will only get the contract if I agree to design the space. Trust me, I can handle Edward.”

  “I trust you.” There was no question she was loyal as hell. But he sure as shit didn’t trust Edward Efant.

  ****

  The Miners hosted a family practice a few days ago to welcome everyone back and encouraged their significant others to come out and meet one another and cheer on the players. He never understood the hype before but having Elle there this year—he loved it. Loved showing off his girl.

  Today, he met with Coach Romero after practice to discuss plays.

  “Your pre-summer training is going to pay off when we’re deep in the season, Mav. Well done. Now we build on it, and you put your head down and grind these next few weeks. Let’s focus on those passing plays with Brent and Big Joe.” Coach stood and drew on the white board, made a few suggestions to tighten things up and offered a few different pass options. He knew the game inside and out.

  “Sounds good. Yeah, you know, I’m all in. Whatever it takes to get where we need to go come February.” The guy was a brilliant coach, and they got along well.

  “Amen. Keep your eye on the prize and let it push you through these next few grueling weeks. I like the leadership I’m seeing from you out on the field. Being your second season, the guys respect you now, look up to you.”

  “Honored to lead this team any way I can,” he said, and he meant it. He stood and shook the other man’s hand before they stepped ou
t to the waiting area.

  He did a double take. Elle sat poised on the leather chair, and he had no idea what she was doing there. They were supposed to meet at his place after work, per her strict rule about switching off where they slept every night. Weren’t rules occasionally meant to be broken?

  “Oh, hey. Hope you don’t mind me dropping by, Coach Romero.” Her tone sugary-sweet. More so than usual.

  She kissed Maverick’s cheek but didn’t meet his gaze. Also not the norm.

  “Of course not, Elle. You’re always welcome. Beverly went on and on about you after family day. She wants to redecorate our entire house now, so I guess I have you to thank for the hit our bank account is going to take.” Coach chuckled.

  “Well, that’s part of the reason I dropped by. Beverly and I realized we both share a weakness for the butter cookies at Frenchie’s Bakery. My girlfriends and I happened to have lunch there today, and I grabbed her a box of sugary goodness. She mentioned she was having foot surgery tomorrow, so I thought these might help her through her recovery.” His girl was charming as shit when she wanted to be. But something was up. She still hadn’t look at him and her attention lie fully on Coach Romero.

  “Aren’t you thoughtful. She’ll appreciate this. Thank you,” Coach said.

  “Of course. Send her my best. While I have you here, do you mind if I ask you a quick question?”

  “Not at all. What can I help you with?”

  “Well, I just wondered how you’d feel if one of your players better-halves told you which plays to call during a game?” She flashed her megawatt smile that left men in a puddle at her feet.

  Coach coughed on the water he’d just sucked down. Christ. What the hell was she talking about? She knew nothing about football. She caught the man completely by surprise, and it took him a minute before he recovered and pulled himself together.