Page 29 of Fall Apart

“Third, maybe it would be good for us to actually be friendly since my brother and your best friend are getting married.” He looks at me, his eyes still pleading.

I let out a long sigh. I don’t have the energy to deal with this today. “You know what, screw it.” I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but at least for tonight, I’ll give it a shot. Crashing there for a night while I sort this mess out should be alright. What’s the worst that could happen? “Fine, I’ll stay tonight and then figure out what I’m doing next while you fix this mess.”

He looks back at me with a gentle smile and those stupid perfect dimples that make it hard to stay focused on being mad at him. I’d probably say yes to anything he asked if he was flashing those all the time.

“Ok. Good. I’ll text you my address. Just come by later today. I’ll make sure the guest suite is ready for you. And Lizzy, I’ll make this right.I promise.” He looks at me with eyes taking on a familiar seriousness.

I swallow hard. For some reason, a sense of relief floods me as he walks out the door, my mind going back to what he said at the bar about promises.

CHAPTER 15

LIZZY

I FEEL LIKE BELLE

Drivingup the hill along the long, snow covered gravel driveway to Clay’s house is picturesque. I’m glad I have the Bronco because otherwise this would be rough to get in and out of. And he’s right, his house is fifteen minutes closer to my office. I will give him that.

I spent the rest of the morning packing up a few things while also calling my dad to let him know about the condo. I gave him a piece of my mind about not telling me about the construction upstairs in the first place. Surprisingly, he wasn’t that worried about the condo and just asked if I was alright. I told him that fortunately, none of my things were damaged but the condo is going to be out of commission for a few weeks. He told me to keep him posted on how the repairs are going and that he’d be out in a few weeks to check in on some of his new investments and entertain some business partner.

No surprise. Nothing new there. He’ll come out for his business, but not even ahey, let’s get together and get lunch or hey, I would love to see you and catch up, Lizzy. Let’s have dinner.

I’m stewing on that conversation until I pull up through the trees to the end of the driveway and reach Clay’s house.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. Clay’s a bachelor in his late twenties and a rough and tumble contractor at that. I turn down my radio and take off my sunglasses to fully appreciate it.

Butthis?

The sleek, but somehow rustic modern house is set back in the trees on the edge of a hill looking back towards Park City and the mountains. In the center, there’s an A-Frame roofline with floor to ceiling windows on the front and back, giving a clear view straightfrom the driveway to the view of the mountains and ski slopes off in the distance. On the right of the A-Frame is a three car garage with black metal and frosted glass doors and on the left the house continues in a low, single floor wing. The whole house is rough, exposed timbers, raw steel, glass and concrete, like a beautiful mid-century modern design was fused with a rustic mountain home.

It’s almost so striking and stunning that I would doubt it was Clay’s, until the garage door on the end opens to reveal him, leaning against a covered car, shaking his head at me. I pull the Bronco into the open third spot in the garage, curiously taking note of the covered car in the center spot that he’s leaning against.

I park and almost jump when Clay is at my door, already opening it.

“Um, hi.” I look at him skeptically. “You’re opening doors for me now?”

He lets out a hushed laugh as he leans against the car door. “Well, this Bronco is ridiculous and I had to see for myself how your short ass hops out of it.”

I glower back at him. “I’m surprisingly athletic I’ll have you know.” I turn and hang my legs over the side of the seat and hop down. Suddenly, I’m now eye level with the open neck line of his black henley and trapped between him and the door of my car. How is it that I’m always so up close with him like this? He must sense it because he stands to the side and shrugs one shoulder.

“And besides, you’re a guest. Manners matter. Come on, let me get your bag.” He takes another step back and holds the door open, gesturing towards the door into the house.Manners matter.That’s refreshing, but not something that jumps to mind when you look at Clay.

He leads me into the kitchen from the garage, setting my bag down on the bench just inside the door. He stops and points back towardsthe wall next to me. “Shoes in the tray there on the floor and keys on the hook up there.”

I look to my left and see the wall hooks with keys, coats, hats and then the tray on the floor with his shoes and boots. I huff a laugh and look back at him. “Didn’t have you pegged for the neat and tidy type.” He just stares back at me.

“Please. I just like to keep the place organized.”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “Ok, ok.” I put my things where he asked and then look around the kitchen. Or more like the whole main living area. The center of the A-frame portion of the house is a modern, open floor-plan space. The living area along the back main wall with floor to ceiling windows looks out over the ski resorts and mountains in the distance.

But that’s not what catches my eye. Everything is so meticulously laid out. The place is spotless but not sterile. It’s decorated in a sort of cozy meets modern ski lodge with beautiful polished floors. There’s a big leather couch with square arms and a southwestern patterned wool blanket folded neatly across the back. A fireplace is in the center of the windowed wall, framed by exposed wood beams coming down from the ceiling. There are two leather chairs on either side of it, facing the couch. The table in the dining area is a warm, live oak edged table big enough to seat ten people.

And then the kitchen. Wow, Veronica would lose her mind if she hasn’t seen this already. It’s all clean lines, but still homey and warm with flat fronted, walnut cabinets and a white marble waterfall island. But like everything else I can see around me, it’s methodically organized and clean with everything in its place.

This is definitely not what I expected from Clay Chapman, the rugged fuckboy from Roxy’s. This isn’t a bachelor pad or even a small rustic cabin like Tanner’s place in Jackson. This is stunning. It’s not huge, but it’s so thoughtful and cozy and beautifully designed.

Clay clears his throat, getting my attention. “Something wrong?” I look at him and there’s a contemplative, almost concerned look on his face.

I huff another laugh and smile back at him. “Nothing’s wrong. But are you sure this isyourhouse?” I gesture my hand around the room, admiring the place.

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