Everything You Need (6 page)

“You have to tell her.” Tony handed him a brush.
“Plus, I don’t think it’ll be a good idea right now to ask her to
design the house.”

Brice stopped and looked up at his brother.
“What?”

“I saw a magazine the other day with her name on it.
It talked about how she was washed up. I don’t find it a
coincidence that she’s here on vacation after that article
hit.”

Brice knelt down and started to brush on the varnish
at the farthest corner of the porch. His conscience had begun to
sing the same tune last night. Things with Hazel were
becoming…different. He hadn’t expected the force of their
attraction and it was steadily muddling the line.

As usual something, this time his ambition, would
mess up what they had. Emotions washed over him, leaving him—he
rolled his shoulders. Brice didn’t want to ruin it just yet. That
bothered him more than the deception of what he needed her to
do.

“You know what Mom would say to this.”

Brice kept his hand steady, though he wanted to throw
the brush at his brother’s face. “Are you going to tell her?”

“I’m not a snitch.”

“After the stunt you pulled yesterday, I find that
hard to believe.”

“Brice—”

“Just fucking drop it, Tony.”

They finished the porch in silence, but his
conscience kept singing the same damn tune.

*****

Hazel’s heart snaked up her throat at the knock on
the door. She wanted it to be Brice, but she wasn’t ready to see
him. Not in her momentary home. She smoothed her hair, took a deep
breath, and answered the door.

“Here from
Everything You Need
and you have a
need.” The woman’s golden eyes didn’t hold an emotion.

Honestly she looked bored. Hazel wanted to ask the
woman if the company paid her well. There was nothing worse than to
expose clients to a disgruntled employee. No, Hazel wasn’t a paying
customer, but she was sure the other shoe would drop once the month
ran out.

“Well, I haven’t called anyone,” Hazel said.

The woman sighed and rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t
work like that.” She then leaned down and brought a painting out of
nowhere. “Compliments of the company.”

Hazel made a small sound of pleasure and took the
painting out of the woman’s hands. It wasn’t a seascape nor was it
a reprint of a Monet or a Picasso. It was exactly what she’d had in
mind for putting above the bed.

You know, if she planned to move it. Now, with the
painting in her hands, Hazel’s mind started to race on how she’d
rearrange the furniture. This painting and the bed would be the
centerpieces of the room. Her fingers actually itched.

“Thank…” She glanced up and the woman had already
gone. She placed the large painting by the door and walked out,
looking both ways. Nothing but the breeze coming off the ocean. Her
mind wasn’t playing tricks on her because she still smelled the
musky scent of the employee’s perfume. It hung in the air like a
reminder.

Hazel whistled. “Strange,” but then her eyes went
back to the painting.

She rubbed her hands together, forgetting the moment.
Later, she’d spend time with Brice. It’d been so long since this
buzz of excitement to decorate had hit. It only border-lined
designing. She was just working with what she already had. Taking
the painting into the room, she smiled. Yes, Brice could actually
wait.

*****

Hours later, Hazel skipped out of the room into the
kitchen. She hummed while pulling out the package of chocolate chip
cookies she’d found the night before in the refrigerator.

And then the thought hit, the one she’d been trying
to suppress. That damn magazine article. Those last three designs
would haunt her until she died or designed…She shook her head,
dispelling the wish. Rearranging furniture wasn’t high scale.

Hell, it wasn’t even original. The little buzz
started to wane. A painting over a bed was High School Decorating
101. Not six-figure, designed-to-a-T work.

She bit hard into the cookie. The article had been
right this whole time. She was washed up. She was never going back
to work. Laura had known it the moment she gave Hazel the option of
an extended vacation.

Extended meant fired gracefully, don’t show your face
again, go get a new career and save us all from your designs. Hazel
might as well start getting used to saying, “Do you want fries with
that?”

Panic rose in her throat, but in her head Hazel knew
the situation wasn’t that bad. But her heart, which had dictated
each design, had kept her going through her last semester in
college despite the grief and heartache—wasn’t in it anymore. The
burn in her chest that told of desire, drive, and passion to do the
work had lessened. God, how long since she had felt the need to
design?

The thought of the last semester in college reared
its head again. She took a bigger bite out of the cookie to keep
the memories at bay.
I’m not going to do this now.

She wiped her clammy hands on her jeans and dug in
for another cookie. Someone knocked at the door and Hazel ran for
it, knowing those cookies wouldn’t keep her mind off the road it
wanted to go down.

Hazel half expected the woman to be at the door with
Kleenex and a handy shoulder. Instead, Brice held a bottle of wine
and a huge Styrofoam box.

Uncertainty filled his gaze. “You didn’t come
by.”

The setting sun threw rays from behind his back. It
wasn’t the
Everything You Need
employee, but she’d take any
distraction. “I got caught up.”

He wasn’t looking at her anymore, but frowning beyond
her shoulder. “Did you design this house?”

“No.” She laughed. “From your expression I can tell
you’re not impressed.”

He blanked his face. “Sorry.”

Since she didn’t want to talk right now about how
they might have done a better job than she could have, Hazel waved
him inside. She sniffed the air around him, smelling the food, not
him. Smelling him might lead to other things. Things they had no
business doing, but goodness, would it feel great.

“Where’d you find a Mexican restaurant?”

He put his fingers up to his lips. “Don’t say that
too loud, my family might hear you. Mother Virgin Mary if I eat
anything other than Italian.”

Hazel laughed. She needed that. “Promise I won’t
tell. I’m surprised your brother let you out of his sight.”

“Barely. I had to tranquilize him before I could make
my escape.”

She passed him and pulled out dishes for the food.
“What really brought you here?”

She turned back to him when there was only silence.
He leaned against the counter, his face somber. Hazel tried to keep
her smile in place, but dread pooled in her stomach.

“It can’t be that bad.”

He let out a breath. “I have a business proposition
for you.”

Yup, dread was the right emotion to pool in her
stomach. Sex or designing was the only thing he could want from
her. Since he wasn’t attempting to get her naked that only left the
latter option. “No. I’m done with that.”

He pointed to her bedroom. The door was open and he
had a direct view inside. “You did that, and given the choice of
furniture I’m sure you’ve made that room better. The furniture in
here blocks out the light and makes the room look smaller than it
is.”

“How do you know? You don’t design.” Her tone was
defensive and she couldn’t help it. He was pushing the one button
she didn’t need pushed.

“I’ve been around enough designers to know who’s good
and who isn’t. I saw you in a magazine.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read in
those.”

“Neither should you.” He leveled her with a glare of
his own.

The dread knotted into something else. She leaned
against the counter more to hold herself up than trying to mimic
his stance. “You read it?”

“I want you to design my house. This can be your
comeback design.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“The competition is cutthroat. If you’re gone for two
weeks the person who was holding the knife behind your back is
ready to take your place.”

Hazel remembered the glint in Laura’s eye after the
extended vacation comment. She started to shake her head. “You
don’t want me to design your house. Hell, you have prime location
right on the beach. You could have sold it as a fixer-upper if all
you needed was money.”

Something passed over his face. “It’ll be a great
opportunity for you—”

She broke the eye contact first. “What did you bring
for dinner? I’d hate for it to go cold.”

His warm hand covered hers. “Hazel?”

“I love
chile verde
tacos covered.”

Brice sighed. “I have some tacos, beans and
rice.”

“Sounds delicious.” She saw he was about to start up
again.

Hazel held up her hand. The bedroom was in her
peripheral vision, catching all the light, looking better, like it
had tons more space. But she wasn’t ready. The burn in her chest
wasn’t there to design. “I’ll tell your sister you ate something
other than Americanized spaghetti.”

Brice smiled at her. “Truce.”

Hazel nodded. “I don’t mind talking shop. I just
don’t want to do it. I’m on vacation.”

“Vacation and that’s it?”

She placed a taco on her plate. “In junior high I
found I had a knack for decorating. It changed into designing once
I took an art class in high school.”

He gave her a deadpan spare. “My father told me to be
constructive.”

Hazel laughed and the tension seemed to leave the
room. She leaned against the counter again, this time mimicking his
movements. “Tell me more.”

CHAPTER 6

Brice stood on his new porch and watched the ocean
ebb and flow. He had taken a chance last night when he went to
Hazel’s house. He rolled his shoulders at the uncomfortable weight
of not confessing the truth. The idea for her to design his house
was strictly for his benefit. Yes, he saw how it could help Hazel,
but his motives were still selfish as hell.

Something moved in the corner of his vision. Hazel
was striding up the beach in the distance. Her stride had a rhythm
now. The spandex material hugged her thighs and hips and, even with
the light jacket she wore, he could see her breasts rise up and
down. He swallowed.
And that’s why I feel like a shit.

He wanted her in his bed. They’d talked last night
for a few hours, and her wit and intelligence had shone through the
topics they picked—politics, classic books, and men who felt the
need to not shave.

As she neared the porch he could see the smile
spreading over her face. His heart thumped in his chest, and he
stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from touching her like
he’d wanted to last night.

Though they had talked about surface issues,
something had weighed on them. If he recalled rightly, she’d looked
downright desperate when she answered the door. There had been
something in her demeanor that spoke of her relief at seeing him,
or maybe just at seeing someone, anyone. Now, the closer Hazel came
to where he stood the more he could tell her smile didn’t quite
reach her eyes.

“Hey, I’m surprised to see you out here,” she
said.

“Taking a lunch break.” He stayed at the top of the
porch steps, not willing to meet her halfway even though the
downtrodden expression tugged at him.

She strode up the rest of the walkway. “Where’s
Tony?”

Her words were like a knife, twisting in the sore
spot his brother had left. “I’d rather not talk about him.”

The moment he’d walked into the house late last
night, Tony had started in on him again. Brice had ripped him a new
one in Italian and Tony had finally relented.

“Why?”

He frowned at her tone. Her hands were on her hips
now and the expression refused to lift. He knew what her problem
was, and damn, if he didn’t want to fix it. “Do you want to talk
about the magazine article?”

She pursed her lips. “Good point.” She sighed. “I’m
sorry. I’ve just been spoiling for a really good argument.”

“And I seemed like a good candidate to yell at?”
Brice used her own words from the first day they met. This time her
smile did reach her eyes. The tension bunching his muscles
eased.

“Two points for Brice.”

A beat of silence went by before he said, trying to
get the smile to her face again, “I know what you can do with all
that pent-up energy.”

She raised a brow. “With you it’s either sex or
work.”

“Ouch.” He placed a hand over his heart. “One point
for Hazel, but I like to think I’m a little more complicated than
that.”

She stepped closer to him. “What? Oh, I forgot—food
and wine.”

“Back to being argumentative, but I’ll give you
another point for being right.”

She squinted up at him and he could see the edges of
a smile. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re only one point ahead now.” She
glanced down for a moment then held up her finger. “It’s seems
being argumentative is the only way I can get you to say more than
two words.”

“I talk.”

“You mutter and grumble, unless you’re cooing sweet
nothings in my ear.”

He grabbed hold of her jacket and pulled him against
her. “I don’t coo, and since that was below the belt I deduct a
point.”

“You’re touching me. I’ll deduct a point, because
it’s not below the belt.” She placed her hands against his chest
and sighed. “You didn’t try to kiss me last night.”

“Can’t seem to stay on one topic, either.”

“Damn. Match and set.” She bit her lip, and then her
eyes lighted again. “Now you’re being argumentative.”

Brice shrugged. Her breasts were cushioned against
his chest. “It got you closer to me, so I could do this, which
makes us even, now.” He bent and kissed her.

He hadn’t kissed a woman this much since junior high.
It felt like a prelude to better stuff. Stuff that involved sweat
and nakedness. His nieces and nephews called it cup-caking. He was
starting to like cup-caking.