Page 60 of One Touch

TWENTY-ONE

KATE

“Look at this one!”I stood in a huge lofted warehouse, looking at the ceiling and turning in a slow circle.

It was pure magic.

Beckett’s friend Sly was a master craftsman when it came to designing and executing designer lighting concepts. Everything from large chandeliers to table lamps and freestanding lighting was jammed into his studio. Parts of the building were sectioned off to look like a kitchen or bedroom or outdoor living space—all to give you an idea of how to use his quirky, sometimes unusual, concepts.

One particular flush-mounted light captured my attention. The base was a matte silver color, and the globe of the fixture was made of delicate white pieces, fitted together to look like blooming flowers. The material looked like pearlescent paper or shells.

Sly stepped next to me and looked up at it. “Mmm. She is pretty. Naturally harvested capiz shells from my trip to the Philippines.” He lifted his hands for emphasis as he pointed to the light. “Each petal is hand cut and shaped into the petal forms. The fixture should, quite literally, bloom from the ceiling. An interior designer recently installed a cluster of them to create the effect of a warmly glowing flower garden. This is the only one left of the series I made.”

“Wow.” It was feminine, delicate, and whimsical.Absolutely stunning.

“It won’t work.” Beckett’s growling voice came up behind me. “We’re lighting a turn-of-the-century historical farmhouse. It doesn’t fit.”

I sighed and dropped my hand. “Well, obviously.” A disgusted noise shot out of me. “You’re such a fun-ruiner. I just thought it was pretty.”

Sly laughed. “Unfortunately, I have to agree with your grouchy companion. For a modern update, while still maintaining the integrity of the farmhouse, I have a few options over here.”

As he led me to a back corner of the warehouse, I let my eyes linger a second longer on the shell light fixture. I was sure it was outrageously expensive, and I sighed as I wistfully dismissed the hope it could ever be mine.

“These are all strong options for you.” We entered a space that was glowing with golden light. “Wood, black metal, and glass will all be strong, traditional options. If you like something that leans a bit more interesting, something like a drum cage or strung wooden beads could do the trick.”

My hands glided across the cool metals that warred with warm woods. It shouldn’t have worked, but the lines and curves melded perfectly together. “I kind of like this one.” I stopped in front of a chandelier that was understated and had a softness to it. Worn wooden beads were strung in an intricate pattern around the glowing bulb. Subtle metal accents added a bit of modern flair to the whole thing while still allowing it to have a rustic sort of charm.

“A lovely choice.” Sly remained quiet as I continued to look at his designs.

“What do you think about this one, Beckett?” I pointed at a pair of chic sconces. “Maybe for the back foyer.”

His full lips pursed, and I wanted them on me. Apparently spending a shit ton of money on luxury lighting wasalsoa turn-on.

“I like it. Is that all?”

I swallowed hard and nodded.

“Great.” He turned toward Sly. “We’ll take them both. My assistant can call with the shipping address and details.” He held out his large palm. “Pleasure, as always.”

Beckett and Sly shook hands as I processed exactly what had happened. Seemingly, at the flick of my wrist, Beckett had committed to an extravagant purchase and barely batted an eye.

Suddenly, the hard, demanding wayIs that all?rolled off his tongue had a new, exciting connotation to it.

No, sir. That’s not all. Not by a long shot.

* * *

“Is this place haunted?”I pointed at an ornate vase of flowers as we stepped from the penthouse elevator. “Because those were definitely not there earlier.”

“A flower-delivering ghost?”

I looked up at him. “Could be. That or a burglar whose calling card is leaving flowers for his victims.” I glanced around. “Does it look like anything important is missing?”

He scoffed. “No.” Beckett slipped off his jacket and held out his hand to take mine, so I did the same. He hung our jackets together in a closet in the foyer. “That would be Marita. She’s the housekeeper and manages things like that.”

I buried my nose in the bouquet. “Mmm.” I sighed. “NowthatI could get used to.” I stepped into the large living room and stretched. After visiting Sly, Beckett had taken me driving through the city. He pointed out significant architecture and buildings he claimed had unique character. The low, warm melody of his voice was fascinating—far more fascinating than any of the actual buildings, in my opinion. He was sointo itthat hearing him talk about design and architecture was like peeking behind the curtain of his surly, grumpy facade.

Beneath the bluster, he was passionate, smart, and really clever when it came to marrying design and function.

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