Love by Design

by Chris Keniston

Rushing to the door, he heard Maile scolding her offspring. “See? He’s a busy man.”

  For his sake he really hoped that was all it was, because he had no idea what he might have done to offend the woman. And, if truth be told, he’d grown so used to people fawning over Forrest John Maplewood over the years that he was starting to develop a small complex over Maile not liking him. But he’d have to deal with that later. First he needed to deal with one serious architectural problem, and then he needed to figure out what to do about one special architect.

  * * *

  “Mother.” Glaring at her mom, Ava could only put one hand on her hip but hoped to get her message across nonetheless.

  “What?”

  “Sorry, Mom.” Emily looked up from her purple tincture. “Innocence isn’t going to work. That was just rude.”

  “I’m only thinking of Forrest. He’s a—”

  “Busy man,” Billy repeated. “I’m with the girls on this. Not buying it. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing is going on. I’m just being considerate of Forrest’s limited time with his sisters.”

  Billy, Ava and Emily glanced at each other. Ava wasn’t swayed and apparently neither were her siblings. Three heads shook from side to side in unified disagreement.

  With shoulders slumping like a deflated lawn ornament, Maile looked at each of her children. “Fine, if my intentions have been misconstrued, I apologize. Forrest is welcome to stay and decorate eggs as long as he wants.” Spinning about, she moved across the kitchen to the pantry.

  “Any idea what Mom has against him?” Emily whispered to her older sister.

  “Not a clue,” Ava shook her head. Not a damn clue.

  * * *

  “I may have solved our Sacramento problem. No, that’s not totally accurate. I found the answer to the Sacramento situation.” John glanced through the open front door at the family antics in the kitchen.

  “I’m all ears,” Evelyn answered quickly. “The committee has requested the legal department find a way to get out of the contract. We’ve never fired a design firm before.”

  “Tell legal to hold off on that for a bit. How soon is Ms. Everrett scheduled to arrive in San Francisco for the first meet-up on the aquarium?”

  “Nothing has been arranged yet that I’m aware of, but Sacramento is the more immediate problem. You know as well as I do the cost of delays on this project.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He scrubbed a hand down the side of his face. “But I need more time.”

  “For what?” Evelyn’s tone was laced with the same frustration he felt.

  “I have some things to work out here first.” If he had thought Ava working with his company on the aquarium project without knowing who he was could get dicey, having her as lead architect on two of his projects and still not knowing the truth could be downright explosive. “The problem with Sacramento is the talent who gave us the original design isn’t there anymore.”

  A single beat of time passed before Evelyn muttered, “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. Legal doesn’t need to get involved. Smythe simply has to come to his senses.”

  Evelyn blew out a heavy sigh. “Whatever you say. You’re the boss.”

  And wasn’t that his biggest problem? When was a good time to tell Ava that Magnolia’s unassuming brother Forrest was really John Maplewood CEO and President of FJM Global without risking screwing up any chance he might have with Ava? Sooner or later it had to come out, and the last thing he needed was for her to show up in California and discover his true identity for herself. He just needed more time.

  Stepping into the house, he spotted Maile Everrett in the kitchen. Another puzzle. What was it about him that she didn’t like? And who had she maneuvered into giving him a ride home? He seriously had to convince Annette how it made more sense for him to rent a car.

  “Forrest”—Maile wiped her hands—”if your sisters wouldn’t mind sharing you for a bit longer, would you consider joining us for the egg decorating?”

  Chin up, the proud woman hid a barrage of emotions, but her words rang with sincerity. Perhaps this meant he was no longer persona non grata. At least he hoped so. Very, very much.

  Chapter Twenty

  Fingers covered in shades of green and blue, John helped Bradley twirl the last of the hard-boiled eggs into a bowl of colored water. Or perhaps the kid was helping him. It was yet to be determined who had the upper hand. Since, in all his life, John had never colored Easter eggs before, he suspected he was definitely the helpee and not the helper. Especially since Bradley’s hands were suspiciously color-free.

  “Bravo!” Maile clapped, as the rainbow-colored egg emerged from the last bowl of color. “Best egg yet.”

  Little Bradley beamed, and his friend leaned forward. “I picked the stickers.”

  “Excellent choice,” Maile added. “Joint efforts are always the best.”

  The two boys grinned up at the crowd of adults with the same joy as if they’d brought home a straight-A report card.

  “Everyone wash up,” Maile ordered, shooing friends and family out of the kitchen. Only her friend Missy stayed behind. With synchronized efficiency the two women went to task straightening the cluttered counters.

  “I guess I’d better get you home.” Ava stopped mid-living room and grabbed a handbag from an armchair. “Your sisters are probably thinking we’ve kidnapped you.”

  John nodded. He had told Maggie he wouldn’t be gone long. In single file, he followed the little boys and Angela toward the hallway that led to the bathrooms. “Give me five to wash my hands, and we can get on our way.”

  The smile that accompanied Ava’s nod gave John a jolt of energy as powerful as if he’d grabbed a live wire. Years of discipline and self-control, first drilled into him by the navy and then refined on his quest to build a bigger and better company than his father’s, were the two things stopping him from leapfrogging over the children to wash up and get on his way with Ava. The drive home would be his first chance to be really alone with Ava, even if only for the short car ride, and he found himself almost giddy at the prospect.

  Jockeying for his position at the sink, he eagerly washed as much of the dye from his hands as possible. How was it that he, a full-grown adult, was the messiest artist of the bunch?

  “Are you coming Sunday?” Bradley asked. “The Easter bunny is going to hide the eggs in Miss Maile’s yard.”

  “Oh”—John backed away from the sink and grabbed a towel—”you mean next Sunday?”

  “I guess.” Bradley bobbed his head.

  “There’ll be candy too!” the other boy added.

  “Yes,” Bradley agreed. “Lots of candy and plastic eggs with money.”

  John couldn’t help but grin at the kid’s enthusiasm. “Really?”

  “Oh, yes, and treats for Gunny too.”

  The favored German shepherd had sat quietly in the corner of the kitchen, overseeing the decorating. John hadn’t even noticed him following the parade of people to the bathroom, until he looked over to find the dog once again standing guard over the family from the doorway. “Can’t leave Gunny out.”

  “Nope.” Bradley shoved the hand towel at his friend and hurried from the bathroom, throwing his arms around the big dog’s neck and squeezing. “Gunny’s the bestest.”

  “I bet he is.”

  “Ready?” Ava appeared outside the doorway, smiling down at the little boy and his dog. “Be careful. You don’t want to squeeze the stuffing out of him.”

  “He doesn’t have stuffing. That’s turkey.” And with that announcement, Bradley and his best friend trotted off down the hall and out the back door, Gunny on the boys’ heels.

  “I guess there really is nothing like a boy and his dog.” John fell in step beside Ava on her way down the hall.

  “Did you not have a dog growing up?”

  “Father didn’t like the idea of pets in the house.”

  “Father?” Ava hesitated a moment before moving on.

&nbs
p; John didn’t want to spoil their time alone with a walk down Maplewood memory lane. “What about you?”

  Ava lifted an eyebrow. “Can’t remember ever not having a dog. Mom’s partial to German shepherds. She always found one that needed a home. I think we might have gotten Contessa as a puppy, but I remember getting Charlie when he was already grown-up. I’ll never forget how skinny he was. And he looked so sad.” Ava paused by the kitchen and addressed her mother. “I’m going to take Forrest home. Anyone need anything on my way back?”

  Maile looked up from her place in front of the sink. For a split moment he thought she would voice some objection, as she’d done with some regularity since his arrival, but, her lips pressed tightly together, she offered a brief nod. Maybe he wasn’t completely out of the woods yet.

  Ava started the car. “Do you mind if we make a stop on the way?”

  “Not at all.” Guilt at not hurrying home to his sisters poked him in the side. “Let me just call Maggie and tell her that I’ll be bit longer.”

  Maggie answered on the second ring. “Oh, good. We were just about to call you.”

  “Anything wrong?”

  “Not at all. We’ve decided to hit some of the shops we missed the other day. Do you want to come along?”

  “No, I think my shopping quota is about used up. You guys have a great time. I’ll see you when you get home.”

  “You sure?” His sister sounded doubtful.

  He glanced at the curve of Ava’s neck, as she looked over her shoulder to pull away from the curb. “I’m sure. I’m being well taken care of.”

  “Still with the Everretts?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” At least one of them.

  “Then you’re in very good hands.” Maggie laughed. “I won’t worry about you.”

  Shifting his gaze from Ava’s neck, past her shoulder, down her arm, his insides heated at the possibilities of being in her good hands. “Talk to you later.” Dropping his cell in his pocket, he turned his attention out the window, sucked in a low deep breath and pictured ice fishing on Lake Michigan. Cold. Barren. Deflating. “My sisters are on a shopping mission. I’m all yours.” And with those few words, visions of hands and mouths tangling together had him hot and bothered, and easily able to melt all the ice in a northern winter.

  “I got a lead from Angela on a new space coming up for lease. Since you’re in construction and all, if you’re not in a hurry, I could use another opinion.”

  “Moving out of the house?”

  “Not likely, but it might not be bad to have an office away from the family. Angela seems to think this would be a really good fit.”

  “Couldn’t find anything sooner?”

  Her good hand on the wheel, she shrugged with one shoulder. “Didn’t look. Just starting out, I didn’t have a budget for renting office space.”

  “Which explains the office at your mom’s.”

  “Yep. But this new contract I have is going to make a huge difference in my career. Not that it’s very likely anyone will be coming to Hawaii to check me out. But it’s not going to be easy to entertain business associates in Mom’s living room.”

  “No. I suppose that might be a bit of a surprise to your clients.” And now would be a good time to explain to Ava his part in her new venture. Rip off the Band-Aid in one swoop. But then he wouldn’t have time to see if they’d be as good together as he thought. He needed to be patient. He needed enough time for her to feel the same way and not back out of working with him just because of who he really was.

  “It’s on our way. According to Angela the place has been empty for years.”

  “Is she meeting us there?”

  “No.” Ava turned left at the corner and then pulled into a small parking area. “She gave me the key code.”

  “Pays to have friends—or in-laws—in high places.”

  A hearty laugh erupted from deep down in Ava’s throat, and he decided there wasn’t a better sound in the world. From the parking space by the older home they took a few short steps to what he thought was the back door. Ava bent over to work the key box single-handed, giving him a fabulous view of her derriere and making him shift uncomfortably in his shorts. She jiggled the key and shoved open the door. “We’re in!”

  From the rear they entered an old kitchen, and he immediately realized this office building had once been a home. The space had been nicely redone. An updated kitchen with ample cabinetry filled the right side of the room, and a couple of smaller round tables and matching chairs occupied the opposite side of the room. The deep layer of dust attested to how many years the old house had been neglected. Ava set her purse and keys on the nearby counter, and, in a thorough sweeping glance, took in the entire space, and he suspected she hadn’t missed a thing.

  Down the hall he could see where the previous formal dining room had been converted into an office. Some furniture remained: an art deco desk, some bookshelves. Since he couldn’t imagine anyone leaving behind an original Tiffany floor lamp, he had to assume the one in the corner of the room had to be a darn good copy.

  Ava took her time, walking from corner to corner, examining the walls, windows and ceilings. He wished he could see what pictures she drew in her mind. With her skills as an architect he didn’t doubt this old house could become a showplace. An unexpected combination of old and new. Classic and contemporary. And he suddenly found himself wishing he could be the one to help bring to life whatever ideas were dancing in her head.

  Finally moving on, same as the dining area, the former parlor had a sprinkling of office furniture under several layers of dust and cobwebs—including what looked to be a pair of Chippendale chairs. Once again Ava took her time, focusing on the natural light from the original wooden windows. Across the hall, on the opposite side of the staircase, the anteroom was set up as a reception area. Like ghosts on Halloween, a couple sheets covered the sparse furnishings. A sofa. A couple blobs that looked to be wingback chairs. Measuring the room with her eyes, Ava lifted the corner of each sheet, peeking at the hidden trash or treasure beneath.

  Circling around to the next room, he entered another larger and fully furnished office, filling the space between the reception area and kitchen. “There’s definitely room here for your business to grow.” John left Ava studying the larger office and made his way to the grand staircase. “What’s up here?”

  “Hmm?” Ava’s voice carried from below.

  It took him a few minutes to get his bearings, and then he realized. The second floor was not reconfigured for more offices but living quarters. “Ava.”

  Slow-moving footsteps grew louder as Ava ascended. “How is it up here?”

  She stopped short at the top step. “Oh, my.”

  “You didn’t know?”

  Ava’s head shook from side to side. “All Angela said was there was an opportunity that might be a good fit.” Slowly she moved from room to room. When she’d worked her way around from back to front, Forrest heard her surprised intake of breath.

  The tiny house on a hill overlooked the main drag. Easy access for business. Most of the rooms held a view of streets, rooftops or parking areas. But the one front room sat at just the right angle. The view from the corner window spread the distance between two timeshare condos. A small cluster of greenery gave way to a sandy beach and rushing waves beyond.

  “It doesn’t look like the previous owner changed much up here.”

  Downstairs had been relatively updated, the colors reflecting modern taste. The wooden floors needing only a good buffing to restore them to their full glory. But upstairs, the hardwoods were worn and faded, the pastel walls peeling, and the trim work showed layers of glopped-on paint.

  Ava shook her head and continued to stare out the window. As she stood frozen in place he ran a mental calculator of all it would take to get this place in shape, knowing full well, if the landlord did even a fraction of what Ava would need done, the property would be priced out of her market.

  He followed her from room to
room. The way her eyes suddenly sparkled at something of interest—an old crystal night-light, a push-button light switch, a tarnished brass bed—each was a thing of beauty. She lingered and pondered every aspect of the ancient dwelling.

  “You like it, don’t you?”

  Spinning in place, she looked up from the dusty sheet covering the old bed, her gaze leveling with his. “I love it.”

  And once again he was overcome with the need to keep her smiling. Keep her happy. He couldn’t stand it anymore. Winding his arms around her waist, with a slight tug, he pulled her closer, waited a second and, seeing no signs of refusal, pressed his lips to hers.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Stunned and ecstatic to find an apartment lost in time on the second floor, being swept into Forrest’s arms was what had Ava’s senses firing on all pistons. Strong hands held her close, an amazing contrast to the tender touch of his lips on hers. Her right arm wrapped around his neck, she felt as though she were hanging on for dear life. Heat rushed through her system. If asked in a court of law, she’d have sworn she could hear her heart slamming against her rib cage, one wild beat after another.

  The tip of his tongue did a dance from one corner of her mouth to the other and, on her delighted gasp, slid inside to tangle with hers. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard the slightest of moans—his, maybe hers, she didn’t know. All she knew for sure is she wanted more. A lot more.

  Muffled music sounded in the background. This moment deserved an orchestra. Fingers from her good hand twirled circles at his nape, through the edge of his hair and along the base of his neck. And it wasn’t enough. Her injured arm tucked in a sling against her torso, she shifted to drag her other hand down and tug at the tail of his shirt hanging over his shorts. Sliding underneath and up to his back, she pressed her hand flat against him. The surprise contact had him sucking in a gasp of air and tugging at their connection. Ava felt the pull from the tip of her tongue to her very core. Damn did this man know how to kiss.