Every Night: Romantic Suspense (The Brush of Love Series Book 1)

by Lexy Timms

She was my ocean, and I was her rock. Her free spirit ebbed and flowed over my body, just like her skirt that wrapped around my legs. I stood strong for her, provided a foundation for her to crash her ideas over, feeling her lips warm my chest while she pressed small kisses right against the beat of my heart.

  I could feel her fingers dancing along my body, wrapping around my back and pulling me closer to her chaotic rhythm as our legs got tangled into one another’s.

  We fell into a bed. My bed. Our bodies wrapped around one another as she laughed with delight. I could feel her skin beneath my fingertips and her warmth against my lips.

  Her wetness against my groin.

  I startled awake with my alarm, my eyes shooting open as I drew in a heavy breath. I could still see her face beside me, her purple hair reflecting against my white pillow sheets as I reached out to her. I blinked, trying to convince myself this was real, trying to tell my heart to slow down, and trying to take a breath.

  But when I opened my eyes, she was gone and I was alone.

  Again.

  Raking my hands down my face, I groaned. What the hell was going on with me? I hadn’t known this woman more than a couple days. Sure, I’d seen her at the bar. At least, I think I did. She said she wasn’t there, but I wasn’t too convinced. Why would she lie about something like that? Maybe she was ashamed? Maybe she felt she’d intruded? Maybe she thought I would get angry at her intrusion?

  I didn’t really care if she lied. All I wanted to know was why this woman, this free-spirited, purple-haired beauty, was already permeating my dreams.

  There was something about her. Something in the way she spoke about her art gallery. Her emotions were raw, and she wasn’t afraid to show them. She whirled about with dreams and fantastical ideas while her eyes sparkled with a future she could see right in front of her. She was still building her future and aspiring to be something. She was creating her own foundation.

  There was a pain behind her eyes I could sympathize with, a silent calling that only those who understood could recognize.

  She was vulnerable, wild, and sweet with a touch of chaotic. I could feel my body tightening for her. I could feel my skin burning and crying out for the warmth it knew she could provide. But my body’s quick ability to cave to a woman I didn’t know worried me. This was a chaotic woman with no roots other than the ones she created herself, and I didn’t know her.

  I was worried that I had already gotten in too deep.

  But how was that possible? I’d only shaken her hand yesterday. The events of the day came rolling back to me. The dusty building. The electrical issues. The smell of her sweating skin.

  That painting.

  Holy hell, that fucking painting.

  I closed my eyes and conjured it. The brown cabin in the thicket of trees with the Jeep sitting to the side as the lights shone from the rooms inside the home. It was reminiscent of a drawing John did when he was in high school. A drawing of our family cabin my parents had built when we were kids and wanted a treehouse in the backyard.

  My brother’s first car was a Jeep.

  I rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. I turned around, taking in the tattoo I had put on my back. It was the first one I’d ever gotten, and it was that same cabin drawing John did when he was in high school. It started at the lower left quadrant of my back and took up about a fourth of the span of my entire breadth. I had it done shortly after John had died because I wanted something to remember him by. I took it to fourteen different tattoo artists before I found one confident enough to take on the drawing.

  I’d been back to the same artist ever since for each of the subsequent tattoos I’d designed for myself.

  Then, the most important part of the day came back to me. The estimate I promised her. I told her I’d do it for free, and I knew the only reason I promised that was because I was attracted to her. The wildness of her life. The freedom she seemed to possess. She flew by the seat of her pants, much like my brother, and that was something I admired.

  I possessed many traits, but spontaneity wasn’t one of them.

  I didn’t care about the free estimate, though. I wasn’t wasting anyone else’s time but my own. It wouldn’t affect the company in any way since I wasn’t pulling anyone from a job site, and I was oddly excited about the fact that I’d see this woman again. But I had to start my research. I had to take the day off to make sure I could get her some accurate numbers, which meant informing Drew I wouldn’t be into the office today.

  I cleaned myself up at the sink before I grabbed my phone. I dialed Drew in the office as I ran water for my hot shower. At first, I thought he wasn’t going to pick up. I was about to hang up and call his cell, asking him why in the world no one was at the office yet. But then, he picked up the phone, panting and huffing as he did so.

  “B.D. Construction. This is Drew speaking. How may I help you?”

  “Late to work again, huh?” I asked.

  “Heard the phone while I was still in the staircase,” he said. “What gives? Where are you? Not that I give a shit. You’re almost never in the office anyway, which is why I’m glued to this place.”

  “Boo-hoo. Listen, I won’t be in the office today.”

  “Again. Got it. What the fuck did you call for?” he asked.

  “To let you know.”

  “You never let me know.”

  “This is true,” I said. “So, I guess I called to rub it in your face.”

  “You’re a dick of the biggest proportions,” he said.

  “Thank you. It is quite a beauty. Listen, how are things going at the mobile home site? Are things wrapping up all right? It’s supposed to be done by this weekend.”

  “Yep. You gonna be there for the homeless guy’s big reveal?”

  “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it. How are we on those other two sites we were going to develop?” I asked.

  “Already got both sites set up for preliminary clearing tomorrow,” he said. “You scouting the city for other people you can hire?”

  “Yep. I’ll be doing that today as well as looking at another potential project.”

  “Oh, really? Do tell,” he said.

  “I’m not sure about anything yet. Getting out into the city to clear my head about it while looking for people to hire will help me decide whether I want to do it or not.”

  “Sounds about like you, yep.”

  “How’s the guy doing on the property? How are the kids?” I asked.

  “He’s doing well. Got himself groomed up a bit with his last paycheck. We got him set up with a bank account and a formal I.D., and his kids are loving this daycare area. He’s latching on really quickly to all the shit, from what Foreman Duke says. And his landscaping capabilities have come into play a few times. Really impressed everyone.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it. Keep me posted on when the big reveal is,” I said.

  “I thought you didn’t want press on this,” he said.

  “I can hear your smug little grin. I just want to be there when we tell him that one of the mobile homes is for him and his kids. That’s all.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll keep you posted. Let me know if you decide to take on this project. I’ll get it on the books.”

  “Will do. Talk to you later.”

  I hung up the phone and hopped in the shower. I had to look up some prices on some wholesale websites for the stuff she wanted on the interior as well as price out electrical and plumbing updates. I had a feeling with all the fun stuff she wanted that everything would throw her way over her budget. I cursed myself for not asking her what her budget was to begin with, so I decided to simply write down some other cheaper options she could go with to skirt on the price a bit while still giving her the same look she wanted.

  I wrote down numbers and did some quite additions. I looked at multiple sites and placed some phone calls. I even tried to do a little bit of haggling to get them to come down on their prices formally. I had four different numbers I could th
row at her, but all of them were still well into the one-hundred-thousand-dollar arena.

  But it was the best I could do, so I grabbed my things and called up Hailey on her phone.

  “Hello?” she asked.

  “Miss Ryan, It’s Bryan.”

  “Yikes. Call me Hailey, please. I’m not old or anything,” she said, giggling.

  There it was. That angelic little sound I’d dreamed about last night.

  “So, I’ve got your estimates,” I said.

  “Estimates? As in plural?”

  “I priced out a few different ways you could go with updates, products to use, and changes you could make to cut corners moneywise. Are you free today to sit down and discuss things?”

  “I’m at the gallery now. Want to head on over, and we’ll talk here?” she asked. “If it goes long, we can always cross the street to get a milkshake.”

  “All right,” I said, smiling. “I’ll see you soon.”

  I cruised through San Diego, leaving the hustle and bustle behind me as I traveled down the coast. The closer you got to the southern tip of California, the rougher the sand got, which was why the tourists always stayed in one area. That was part of the reason why this little area of the city didn’t get much foot traffic. There wasn’t much in the way of entertainment, except for the diner and an old movie theater, and the beach wasn’t fit to lounge around on.

  I pulled into the small parking lot beside the decrepit building Hailey was calling her gallery, and I walked right on in to find her sitting in the middle of the room. She had her legs crossed, and she was leaning back on her arms. Hailey was taking in deep breaths, and I watched closely as her chest expanded. I wasn’t really sure what she was doing. Meditating or centering herself, maybe. I wasn’t really into that kind of stuff, but she struck me as the kind who would be.

  “Want to take a seat?” she asked.

  I looked around for a chair, but when I saw none, I realized she meant on the floor by her. I walked over and sat down, crossing my legs as I waited for her to open her eyes. She looked so peaceful. Her milky skin so calm. A small grin played across her cheeks like she was keeping a secret from everyone that would eventually knock the socks off them. She looked to be in a perpetual state of giddy excitement, right before that point where someone was ready to burst.

  Then she opened her eyes, and her peridot stare hooked onto mine.

  “All right,” she said as she swiveled on her butt and crossed her legs. “Hit me.”

  “Here are the numbers I drew up.”

  I handed her the sheet of paper and watched her eyes run over the numbers. I slowly watched the blood drain from her face, and the surprising sadness I felt deep within the pit of my gut took me by surprise. She sighed, and in that moment, I knew it didn’t matter the corners I’d cut.

  All the numbers were still way out of her budget.

  “Even with the money I borrowed, I can’t afford any of these figures,” she said.

  “Is there anything you’re willing to give up? Maybe do cheap and then add on later once you’re more profitable?” I asked.

  “I know a lot of my plans sound over-the-top and nice, but they really aren’t. I mean, if I put down a cheaper floor, it’ll only cut, what, a thousand maybe off this price? It’ll take me more than that to rip up the floor later and put down what I wanted. In the end, it’ll cost me more money.”

  “But it’ll get you up and going for now,” I said.

  “Are there any updates to the electrical and plumbing that I could get rid of? All I need is everything to be within code. I don’t need anything fancy.”

  “That price is just bringing things up to code.”

  She sighed heavily, and I couldn’t help but feel for her. I remembered what it was like getting my business off the ground and the sheer amount of debt Drew and I had to dig ourselves into. I’d had my parent’s reputation behind me with the banks, but she didn’t have anything like that. She struck me as the type of woman that would’ve saved everything she had, and if she borrowed any money, it was probably forced on her by family or some shit.

  And right then, I decided I would cut her a deal like I did with the homeless men I hired.

  “How about this?” I asked. “I’ll take some of those beautiful paintings of yours as payment, along with whatever you can afford to pay. Do you mind me asking what your financial situation is like?”

  “I saved seventy thousand on my own and borrowed thirty thousand from my sister,” she said.

  “All right. I’ll take what you saved. Keep what your sister gave you for future expenses. As someone who’s built a business from the ground-up, I can vouch that you’ll need it. Is it a loan?”

  “Is what a loan?”

  “What your sister gave you,” I said.

  “Oh, no. She gave me that in exchange for three percent of the business.”

  “Even better. Keep that with you and pay me the seventy thousand you’ve saved up, minus what you dished off the top to buy this place. I’ll take some of your artwork as payment for the rest of the work, but there are some conditions.”

  “Name them,” she said breathlessly.

  “I intend to hire some homeless men for the project. I do it with all my projects. It’s my way of giving back and reaching out to the community. Some of them will be detoxing from drug use, but they’ll be attending regular addiction specialist sessions I’ll set up. My rules with them are that they have to work hard and never come to work high. The moment they do, they’re gone.”

  “That’s incredible,” she said. “I mean that you do that with your projects. All of them?” she asked.

  “Yep. My second condition is that I’ll take the personal point on supervising the project. I won’t use one of my regular foremen. I want to see this project through.”

  “I figured you would anyway,” she said, shrugging.

  “Usually, I don’t take that type of hands-on approach.”

  “Why now?” she asked.

  I honestly wasn’t sure how to answer that question. Because my brother was an incredible artist when he wasn’t high? Because I enjoyed her desire to reach out to the community? Because I believed in the premise of her gallery? Because I thought it would be fun?

  Because she was radiant?

  “With the money I’m charging you and the lower rates, I won’t be able to hire but about one or two of my regular guys. The rest of the money will go to pay the homeless men on the project. That means another expert hand will need to be there to help coach them through things. Teach them the trade while we build up your gallery,” I said.

  “Oh. That makes sense.”

  Why did I sense disappointment in her voice?

  Probably because she didn’t like the idea. But who would? A bunch of homeless men traipsing in and out of her fancy art gallery. Some tattooed guy who loomed over her at six-foot-two wielding construction equipment. The risk of one of the men showing up high and ruining something on-site. It was a big risk she was taking, no matter how you spun it. But I wanted to cut her a deal. I wanted to help her get this art gallery off the ground.

  She probably didn’t even believe me when I told her I loved art yesterday, but I did. Maybe that’s why I was so keen on helping her with her project.

  But to my shock, she sprang up from her seat and threw her arms around me. She giggled into my ear, her smile pressing into my shoulder as her body almost took mine to the ground. She had some force behind her curves, and my hands descended onto her back before I could even think. She was thanking me over and over again in my ear as her body cloaked mine, but all I could focus on was her back and how smooth and warm it was underneath the calloused palms of my hands.

  I felt my heart rate speed up a bit as my palms began to sweat. She pulled back and smiled at me, her eyes sparkling like they had in my dream. I smiled back as I felt a flush creep up my spine, threatening to spill over onto my neck where she could see.

  “I agree. I completely, one hundr
ed percent agree to your terms,” she said.

  There was a voice in the back of my head that told me this wasn’t a good idea. Nothing was ever this perfect. Nothing was ever this kind. I was too busy with my business to be distracted by a woman whose magnetic field attracted chaos and whatever else it was that caused the fear to spark behind her eyes.

  The slight fear every time she looked at me.

  It wasn’t going to be wise to spend a lot of time with this woman. But as we got up from the ground and shook hands on the deal, I found myself calling up Drew to let him know I was taking on another project.

  I hoped that nagging voice was wrong, and I wasn’t getting myself into something that would bite me later.

  Chapter 8

  Hailey

  I dropped onto my couch after shutting the door of my studio apartment. I didn’t care that I was covered in sweat, and I didn’t care that my clothes smelled like a workhorse. I was exhausted from moving, organizing, and cleaning, and all I wanted to do was rest. I couldn’t wait for construction to begin on my gallery. I’d called my sister right after Bryan had left that day, telling her what had just happened and the deal I had been cut. Of course, she went into protective mode and did some digging into B.D. Construction, but all she found was reputable, reliable material along with rave reviews from people who lived in the residential homes they built.

  “It’s interesting,” she had said. “They don’t really delve into commercial properties.”

  “Maybe they’re branching out?” I had asked.

  “Just make sure he sticks to his end of the bargain. Get it in writing, get it signed, and get it to me.”

  So, that’s exactly what I’d done. Bryan had come by a few days later with the official paperwork, and I looked for all the key pieces of information my sister told me to look out for. On the payment line, it said “fifty thousand dollars plus up to five pieces of artwork of the contractor’s choosing,” and it had a finished date of anywhere between July and August. I was happy with what I saw, so I signed, then I sent off a copy for my sister to look over.

  She was very pleased with what she saw, which made me all the more excited about the days to come.