He heard her words. He just wasn’t sure how to process them.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said softly.
They sat in silence for a little while. The feel of her fingers against his scalp was mesmerizing and comforting, even as it was arousing. Something he wouldn’t be acting on.
Not now.
Hell, he didn’t know if being with her ever again was smart considering how deeply she got to him. This whole scene had been too intimate. “Let’s go to the office,” he said, rising to his feet.
She nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Let me get my things from my room. Oh, and can we stop somewhere for me to pick up breakfast? I never had a chance to eat, and I’m dying for some coffee.”
She smiled and he was struck by how easily she allowed the subject change. She was so easy to be with, so understanding of his needs, be it distance or comfort. His princess was the perfect woman. For anyone other than him.
* * *
By the time they left to go to Beck’s office, it was nine forty-five. On the way over by Uber, Chloe remained silent, giving him time to process what was going on with his father without adding her own problems to the things he needed to worry about. He’d given her a safe haven when she’d needed it, but he had his own life and issues, which meant it was time to move out of his apartment. She was ready. Now that she had a better understanding of what made Beck tick, she’d better be.
He was always braced for the worst, afraid of loss, and as a result, he put up walls. He didn’t believe doctors’ promises, and he didn’t do relationships. It all made sense now, especially his pulling away last night. And though she didn’t have to like it, she did need to respect his feelings.
They arrived at Beck’s office, and she took in the fabulousness of the space. “I love the lobby,” she said as they strode through the entry. The floors were polished concrete, the windows framed in black steel, and the fixtures a brushed brass.
“Thank you. I’m pretty damned proud of it,” he said.
She shook her head and laughed. “As you should be.”
They stepped into the elevator and headed up to the top floor, where a woman sat behind a marble desk. “Good morning, Mr. Daniels.”
He smiled. “Morning, Annabelle. This is my friend Chloe Kingston. If she needs anything, please make sure she gets it.”
“My pleasure. Nice to meet you, Chloe,” the pretty brunette said.
“Same,” Chloe said with a warm smile.
From there, the tour encompassed the break room, Beck telling her there was a cafeteria downstairs, and introducing her to his personal assistant, who she asked about wirelessly hooking up a printer to her laptop.
The attractive redhead named Ronnie promised to come by the conference room and make sure she had the password for the internet. She also said she’d help her get her computer set up to print.
Beck showed her to her workspace, a small room where she settled in. She’d been perfecting her contest entry for months prior to taking the leap and entering. The written component included a fifty-word project summary and a challenge statement, which was essentially a guiding statement to make the client trust in her work. To prove she had a deeper understanding of their needs while incorporating the balance, flow, and rhythm, along with the proportion and scale of the project.
Every time she revisited her entry, she found herself making changes to the challenge and the solutions. There was also such a thing as taking the point of view and uniqueness out of something, and if she kept tweaking, she risked her entry becoming too generic. Too much like the designs for Linc she wanted to leave behind.
Ronnie had come in and hooked her up to the internet and printer as promised, and Chloe had been working for over an hour. Needing a break, she turned her attention to apartment hunting. Linc would help her in a heartbeat if she asked him, but she wanted to find a place to live on her own.
Picking up her cell, she called a friend who was a Realtor and explained the type of place she wanted. Amelia promised to send listings to look at later today.
Chloe had to admit she hated the idea of moving out of Beck’s loft. Not only did she love the space and décor, she enjoyed his company. He’d been a good friend and source of support, but he’d revealed why she couldn’t rely on him long-term, and hearing his reasons why? She knew she’d better believe him.
A couple of hours passed during which Chloe, despite her internal warning, perfected her writing portion even more. Her Realtor friend sent rental openings along with some condominiums for her to check out. She printed the ones that looked the most promising because she wanted to see the layouts in larger format.
Then she headed to the break room, took one look at the Keurig, and decided she’d much rather have a Starbucks instead. She’d seen one across the street, and she just needed to get her phone that had her app so she could pay.
She walked into the conference room to find Beck staring at her screen, the 3D model of the studio she was designing open for him to see.
“Beck?”
He turned to face her. If she thought the man had been sexy prior to her sleeping with him, she found him even more so now. Ignoring the tug of attraction wasn’t easy, but she’d made herself a promise to pull back.
“This is a phenomenal transformation,” he said, his gaze never returning to the screen. “You turned a bland, open room into a multifunctional living space.” He leaned in closer. “Love the glass panel partition,” he mused. “It lets natural light illuminate the whole apartment.”
She warmed at his enthusiasm. She couldn’t remember the last time Linc had been excited by her designs or work. Not because he didn’t like the job she did. He never hesitated to compliment her, but this kind of exhilaration was different.
“Yes.” She stepped up beside Beck. “The average studio apartment is five hundred and fourteen square feet, so I needed to make use of every last inch without leaving it cluttered. Look.” She pointed her finger without touching the screen. “I hid a foldaway Murphy bed that has shelf storage when closed, and I used mirrors to give the illusion of more room,” she said.
“Is that wall a deep purple?” he asked.
“A dark violet accent wall.”
“Hmm.”
She was unable to get a read on whether or not he liked the color she’d chosen. Suddenly, something she’d kept secret for so long was in the open, and it felt like she was exposing her heart and soul.
“I like it,” he said at last.
And with his approval, she realized how much she’d wanted him to admire her designs. His validation mattered because she’d had so little in her life. Oh, her brothers wanted what was best for her, in that big-brother-knows-what-that-is sort of way. But Beck was separate and apart from her family. Not only did his opinion matter, he mattered.
So much for emotional distance, she thought, frustrated with herself.
“Who is this for? Because it can’t be Linc. Not with the ultramodern accents.” He turned to face her, curiosity in his gaze.
She drew a deep breath. “Do you remember when we talked about reaching for what we want? And I asked about fear?”
A knowing smile lifted his sensual lips. “Yes. And I said to go out, grab the world by the balls, and go after it, anyway.”