First Comes Loathe (Blue Collar Bensons 1) - Page 32

His eyes narrowed in concentration as he perused her hard work. Ralph had helped her purchase the house while she’d been in rehab. He’d visited and Face Timed her during multiple walkthroughs. She’d fallen in love with the place, and her vision for it had formed over the final two months in rehab. The hours she’d spent researching, designing, and preparing for this moment were what kept her going on some of the darker days.

With each passing second, the coil of tension in her gut wound tighter. After what had to be a solid three minutes of fidgeting in her chair, she reached to snatch the papers back just as he said, “You have big plans.”

“I do.” Was that a bad thing? Despite her research, she wasn’t sure if all of her ideas were feasible. Contracting was a field she knew nothing about.

“Are you a designer?” he asked, finally leaning back in his plush leather chair.

With a chuckle, she shook her head. “No. Not at all. I just have a clear picture of what I’m hoping for.”

His face gave nothing away and she wanted to scream, “Tell me what you’re thinking!”

“Well then,” he finally admitted, “you’ve done your homework. These ideas are terrific. It’s been a few years, but I’ve been in that house several times, and if I recall correctly, this will all be fantastic. Especially the kitchen, which is where I’d recommend starting.”

“That’s where I’d like to start. Kitchen and master bathroom are the priority. I’m in no rush on the rest of the work.” She bit her lower lip to keep from grinning like a loon at the thought of having a space designed just for her.

Jagger laughed. “Go ahead and get excited. You have wonderful ideas. I don’t know what it is you do for work, but you may have missed your calling as a designer.”

Huh. Every heartbeat thudded in her ears like a bass drum.

A designer?

That was…well, that was an idea she’d tuck away and pull back out when she was alone and had time to mull over her future.

“Uh, I’m between jobs right now. Kinda…searching for what’s right for me.”

“Well, give it some thought. Now, you did your homework on the plans, but did you budget accordingly? I don’t want to burst your bubble, but that’s something to chat about right upfront before we get into the weeds and start racking up a large bill. And with all this work, it will be costly.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to discourage you, but I’ve made a name for myself by being straight with clients. I’ll give you a formal estimate, of course, but I don’t want you to be shocked and unprepared.”

Her face heated, and she cleared her throat. “Budget is, um, budget isn’t a concern. I’m good there.”

“All right, then. Great,” he said without batting an eye. “How about this. I’ll get a rough estimate worked up for you by the weekend. Why don’t you come for dinner Saturday night, and we can go over it.”

Dinner? Her lungs seized. Was he asking her on a date?

With a laugh, he gathered up her papers. “Keith won’t be there, don’t worry. Ronnie’s making fajitas. JP’s choice. They’d love to hang with you, and we can chat about the estimate and your plans.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on,” he said in a cajoling tone. “You’re new in town. You need a tribe. Fajitas, guac, margaritas.” He waggled his eyebrows as he smiled. “And if you drink too many, all you gotta do is stumble your way across the street. No biggie.”

“Turn those dimples off.” she said with a snort. “They won’t work on me.”

“I don’t buy that.” He grinned wide, flashing the dimples. “I’m fully aware of the power of these babies.”

She laughed. This mild, harmless banter was fun. She felt no pressure from the man, just a lighthearted, fun vibe she could easily play off.

“Okay, fine. You wore me down.” The man didn’t need to know she’d be avoiding the margaritas. Last time she brought up her sobriety with a Benson, shit had hit the fan. That was an experience she wasn’t eager to repeat. “What can I bring?”

“Hmm,” he scratched his rough chin. “A dessert?”

Lord, she couldn’t bake to save her life, but it was high on her list of skills to learn, so she might as well give it a whirl. Worse came to worst, the bakery in town would do in a pinch.

“Perfect.” She loved that he didn’t try to wave her off but suggested she bring dessert. In her Hollywood life, a host would have laughed at her for even offering. Caterers handled dinners, not neighbors and hosts. Of course, that didn’t mean one showed up empty-handed. No, an outrageously expensive host or hostess gift was always required. A fun, home-cooked, relaxed dinner with down-to-earth friends would be a novel experience for her.

Tags: Lilly Atlas Blue Collar Bensons Romance
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