Page 7

CHAPTER 7

IN YOUR DREAMS

BELLA

July

“Do you always do whatever you want?” I ask as I stab the button to end the call.

“Most of the time.” With a smile, he slips his own device into his pocket and leans casually against the doorframe. “I’m happy you agreed to help me, Isabella.”

“Good for you. I, on the other hand, already regret it,” I mutter, stepping aside. “Come on in. I need fifteen minutes to get ready.”

As he passes me, I’m enveloped in the scent of cinnamon and sandalwood with a hint of tobacco.

“Wait for me in the living room.” I close the door, then dart for the stairs. I’m halfway up when I realize he’s following me. I whirl around and glare, a finger pointed at him. “You. Wait. In. The. Living. Room.”

“I can help.” His blue eyes sparkle, making my heart go pitter-patter all of a sudden.

“Thanks.” I tamp down on the reaction and erect a wall of annoyance. “But I’m fully capable of getting ready on my own.” I turn and stomp to the second floor without looking back.

Inside my walk-in closet, I slip my hands in the pockets of my shorts and survey my options. I don’t want to give Xander the impression that I’m dressing up for him, so I settle on a light blue floral dress. It’s lovely but casual and relatively modest. Once I’ve stepped into a pair of black flats, I give myself a once-over in the mirror, add black mascara to my eyelashes, and collect my hair into a messy bun.

As I step into the living room, Xander stands. “You look incredible.”

“Thanks.” I smile. Rather than crass, his compliment is sweet. If he kept all his flirty comments to himself, it’d be so much easier to work with him.

Xander opens the front door and gestures for me to walk outside first. “When I called Miller for your number, he was at the gym. You don’t go with him?”

Brows knitted, I wait for an innuendo, but his expression is placid. “No. He’s got a routine, but I like trying new things. I never really stick to just one activity.”

Xander chuckles. “Why? Do you get bored easily?”

“You could say that. I like variety. I’m open to everything. Free weights, yoga, Pilates, or just running.”

“Yoga? You must be really flexible,” he teases.

There’s the flirtation. Ass . I roll my eyes and lift my chin, heading for the gate. “Ask Jake.”

“Maybe I will.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying something rude. He’s a flirt, a player on and off the field. Yet my cheeks burn every time he makes these kinds of comments.

On the other side of the gate, he places a hand on my lower back and guides me to a Porsche Cayenne. “Your carriage awaits, Your Grace,” he announces. “Like it?”

“It’s just a Porsche,” I say. I have no interest in boosting his ego.

“ Just a Porsche?” He arches an amused brow. “It’s a Cayenne Turbo S E-Hybrid Coupe.”

A huffed laugh escapes me. “ Okay .”

With a shake of his head, he opens the passenger door for me. As he rounds the hood, I sneak a glance at him, only to find he’s watching me. He doesn’t look away as he slips into the driver’s seat.

Shit . What did I get myself into?

“Did it take you long to find a house or…?” I ask as he starts the engine.

“My dad is the one who found it. He helped me get the process moving pretty quickly.”

Hands in my lap, I tuck my chin. “Oh, okay.”

“I’m pretty close with my parents, and they live nearby. It’s nice to have their help, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess.” In all honesty, I struggle to imagine it. I’m not close with my mom, though I am lucky to have a good relationship with my Aunt Millie and her son.

“You aren’t close with your family, are you?” He side-eyes me, his smile falling.

“Not really.” I look out the window, hoping he gets the hint to drop it. There’s no way I’m going to be friends with this guy.

“I’m sorry. I love my folks, so I guess I assume everyone else feels the same way about theirs.”

“Definitely not me.” The second the words are out of my mouth, I silently chastise myself. I don’t talk about my family issues with anyone. Not even Jake.

“Okay. I’m sorry for asking.” Xander gives me a small, genuine smile.

I return the gesture. “It’s fine, honestly. Most people do love their parents. I’m just not one of them.” I avert my gaze, focusing on the road this time.

Thankfully, he does the same. A comfortable silence fills the car, and the rigidness in my muscles ebbs.

For the rest of the ride, he lets me be, and I appreciate that more than anything.

* * *

The home we pull up in front of is a one-story mahogany brick house with huge windows and a light gray roof.

Lips stretched into a smile, I turn to look at the owner.

“What? Do you like my house?” he chuckles.

“A little. There’s a lot riding on what’s inside.” I unfasten my seat belt and clamber out of the Porsche, eager to get a better look. The house isn’t as big as Jake’s, but it’s cozier, at least on the outside, with a neat lawn and a beautiful magnolia tree in the corner. It’s warm and inviting like my aunt’s place—just looking at it sends a rush of comfort through my veins.

As we approach the house, I realize that I’m nearly a head shorter than Xander.

He stops to unlock the front door, and as he pushes it open he holds out an arm. “Welcome to my humble home.”

The moment I step inside, I’m assaulted by the incessant barking of a dog and the click-clack sound of nails on hardwood floors.

I freeze, hands clasped, unsure what to expect.

“Don’t be scared,” Xander says, his mouth a little too close to my ear. The rasp of his soft, velvety voice goes right through me. “Milo is a big sweetheart.”

An orange and white corgi appears then, barreling toward me. When he reaches me, he bounces, his tail wagging. His face lights up, as if he’s smiling at me.

Oh my God . I sigh in relief, and then I burst out laughing. Kneeling, I hold out a hand so he can sniff it. “Hey, buddy.”

He licks my fingers, the sensation making me squirm and squeal with laughter.

“Milo, that’s enough. I can’t even close the door.”

I stand and take a few steps forward. The dog, having discovered his owner is home, has lost all interest in me. He darts for Xander and whines, demanding attention.

“One minute, boy.” Once the door is firmly shut, he crouches and loves on his dog.

I can’t help but smile. It’s so sweet and genuine, it warms my heart. I had a cat when I was little. Back then, knowing something was waiting for me at home, that something noticed me, was more meaningful than just about anything else.

“How did you end up with Milo?” I ask, trying to distract myself from my memories.

“My sister gave him to me on my twenty-fourth birthday. He’s only a year old. Still a puppy, really.” Xander gets to his feet. “How about we go to the living room?”

“Sure.”

As soon as I step inside the living room, I stop in my tracks. White walls and a light wood floor are a great contrast to the room’s forest green, black, and light gray accents. The room looks…nice. Why does he need me?

“Xander?”

“What?” He turns to me, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Your living room looks like it was already decorated. The paintings are gorgeous, the throw pillows, the curtains. Why am I here?” I fold my arms over my chest, pursing my lips in an annoyed pout.

With a nonchalant shrug, he says, “Did I say which room needed to be decorated?”

“ No .” I draw out the word as I scrutinize him. He’s plotting something, but I don’t know what. Or am I reading it wrong? Is it possible that Jake’s story about their past is clouding my judgment? Is he being honest about needing my help? Or is this just a way to get close to me?

No. It’s ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous.

“Follow me.” With a wink, he strolls past me, Milo on his heels.

Goodness, this man will be the death of me.

Taking a deep breath, I follow, not allowing myself to look at his perfect ass in those jeans.

“What do you think of this?” He stops at a closed door and turns the knob.

I peek inside, and my heart instantly leaps into my throat. There’s a spacious shower. The toilet looks new, but the tile isn’t finished, and the walls haven’t been painted.

“Erm.” I clear my throat. “What happened to your designer? You definitely had one, based on your living room.”

Smirking, he rocks back on his heels. “My father hired her. Things were great at first. We discussed my style, she chose items I really liked, and she worked with the contractors. But then I found out she’d been fudging the numbers and skimming money off the top.”

“Oh,” I say lamely. I nibble on my bottom lip, and Xander’s gaze instantly darts to my mouth, his eyes flashing. The sudden change in the air has goosebumps scattering across my skin. Swallowing my nerves, I clear my throat. “I’m sorry that happened. Did you sue her?”

“No. I threatened to, but she returned every penny she took.” He chuckles dryly. “She decorated everything except for this room. Think you can help me finish it?”

Head tilted, he watches me, like he’s truly worried I’ll say no.

I sigh, my shoulders sagging. “Okay.”

Grinning, he holds out a hand. I slip my palm against his, but when an electric current runs up my arm, I pull back.

But Xander seems unbothered, closing the door to the bathroom and peering at me. “So, what’s next?”

“Do you mind if I look around? So far, what I’ve seen is mostly Scandinavian, but I want to really get a feel for it, so I can ensure the bathroom flows well with the rest of the house.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be in the kitchen. I need to feed Milo.” With far more cheer than the moment calls for, he saunters off. Halfway down the hall, though, he spins on his heel to face me. “You should start in my bedroom. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

I raise my eyes to the ceiling and groan. “Go to hell, Xander.”

“Only if you keep me company.” With one more wink, he disappears.

I shake my head and breathe through the annoyance streaming through my veins. I need to set boundaries, show him I’m not okay with his jokes. When I finish the tour, I’ll talk to him and make myself clear. For now, though, I need to look at his bedroom, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about what I’ll find.