Page 67 of Crazy In Love
“I don’t want people making themselves at home,” he grumped.
I rolled my eyes but smiled because I couldn’t help myself. He was charming and funny and grumpy and moody, all at the same time.
“When Henley and Easton come over, you don’t want them to be comfortable?” I asked.
He thought it over. “Fine. They can be comfortable. But I don’t want to make it so comfortable that people just stop by whenever the hell they want to.”
“Noted,” I said, trying to hide my smile. “So, take a look at some of these photos, and tell me if you like the color schemes.”
“Yes, I like it.” He stared at all the photos as if they were important, which I appreciated.
“So you like natural colors and earth tones. I would have guessed you’d be dark and moody.” I chuckled.
“Well, I’m still dark and moody, so don’t get too excited.”
“Good point.” I continued showing him a few more design options for his style, and I was surprised that we’d nailed it down rather quickly. He knew what he liked. He had a clear aesthetic that he was drawn to. He just hadn’t thought to do it himself. Sometimes people needed their hands held. They needed that guidance.
He pushed to his feet and moved to the kitchen. “You want something to drink? Wine, beer, soda, water?”
“Oh, sure. I’d love a water,” I said, jotting down a few more notes that I’d go over tonight when I got home.
He set the water down in front of me, then popped the top to his beer off as he leaned back in his chair. He took a long pull from the bottle, the move so sexy I found it hard not to stare. He could do an ad for a beer commercial, the way his dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top, the cuffs rolled up on his forearms, hislarge hand wrapped around the bottle, and his tongue swiping out along his bottom lip right before he took a sip.
I watched his Adam’s apple bob as the liquid glided down his throat.
Damn.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Someone could make a sex tape of Bridger Chadwick drinking a beer.
It was that good.
“You want to take a picture? You’re staring.” His voice was deep and gravelly, lips flattened, giving nothing away.
And… the pompous ass just ruined the moment.
“This is how I think. I zone out. I’m not staring, I’m designing.” I cleared my throat, tipping my chin up defensively.
He leaned forward, his face coming dangerously close to mine. “I’m also very good at reading people, Emilia. And you weren’t designing anything. You were checking me out.”
Damn you, Bridger Chadwick.
The sexy, beer-drinking jackass was spot on.
nineteen
. . .
Bridger
I didn’t normally findwomen adorable.
I would typically find a woman attractive, which was as far as it ever went.
But Emilia Taylor is fucking adorable.
I didn’t even know the word “adorable” was in my vocabulary.
