“It will be nice to share a bed that’s not twin-size.”
“Yeah,” he said, but he wasn’t so sure it would be nice. He liked being squashed between her body and the wall. It didn’t make him feel trapped, like most confined spaces did. Sleeping in such a small space made him feel safe. like she was protecting him while he slept or something. And whenever he started thrashing about in his sleep, she woke him before the dreams got too bad. Would he feel the same security when their bed was double the size?
“You’re okay with dogs, right?” he asked. He supposed he should have asked her that before asking her to move in with him, because Hawn was already there waiting for their return. His golden retriever had overstayed her welcome at his parents’ house. Mom was tired of cleaning up shed dog hair and insisted that the smart and friendly pooch wouldn’t get in the way during the construction process.
“I love dogs.”
“Good, because I have one. She’s at the house.”
“Did you adopt a puppy?”
“She’s full grown. I believe you’ve met her. It’s Hawn.”
“Your mom’s dog?”
“She’s actually my dog. My folks kept her while I was deployed. She was only a year old when I left. Still a puppy, really.”
“Hawn’s a sweetheart. I bet she’s glad you’re back together.”
He could always count on his dog to be happy to see him. Even after his extended absences, she’d been loyal and faithful. She hadn’t cheated on him with another man. Stop thinking about Josie. You’re better off without her.
When he pulled into his driveway, Lindsey leaned toward the windshield and gave the house the once-over. She winced slightly, but quickly covered her expression with a poker face. He was going to change her mind about loving the place. It did lack in curb appeal and also lacked a functioning kitchen, but he and Owen worked together quickly and efficiently. They’d have the place fixed up in no time.
“See past the ugly,” he advised. “Like you do with me.”
“I’d smack you if I wasn’t weak with hunger,” she said. “Do you have a dining room table?”
“Uh, well, no. Not yet. Owen and I concentrated all our efforts on a different room today.”
“Let me guess—the man cave?”
He scratched at the scar over his ear. “Not exactly. There is a table on the back patio. We can move the tools and eat there.”
“It is a nice evening,” she said—cool for early August—“but show me the inside of the house first. I’ve been dying to see what you find so appealing about this place.”
“Location, location, location.” And that was the truth.
He helped her out of the car—she really was less graceful than he was at times—and followed her up the path to the front door. It had a shiny new door handle and matching deadbolt. They were the only new items at the entrance. He’d be replacing the front steps soon—the treads were uneven and tended to trip him up—but he still couldn’t decide on an exterior color—besides classic white—that wouldn’t look weird with the traditional brown timber accents. He preferred yellow or soft green houses. Some cheerful color to liven up a place. Maybe he should paint the timbers too. He hoped Lindsey would help him decide.
“The place needs flowers to chase the dreariness away,” she said.
He completely agreed. “Do you garden?”
“Not really, but I’ve always wanted to learn. Your mom does a beautiful job with her flowers.”
“I’m sure she’d love to give you advice. The place does need all new landscaping—the yard is mostly weeds—but I need to concentrate on the inside for now.”
“You’ll get to it.”
“Actually, I was hoping you could start work out here. Nothing big, but if you want to add a few flowers here or there, that would be great.”
She brightened, her cheeriness putting all flowers to shame. “I’d love to help any way I can.”
He couldn’t resist leaning in to steal a kiss. He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a key that fit the new locks. “This is for you.”
“My own key!” She held it up by the leather fob he’d selected and shook the golden letter L that dangled from it. “A bit presumptuous on your part.”
“You haven’t seen my ace in the hole yet,” he said. “If you hadn’t said yes at dinner, I did have additional ammunition in my arsenal to convince you.”
“Is that so? I probably should have asked how much my share of the mortgage will be before I agreed to live you.”
Since he owned the place free and clear, her share of zero would be zero, but he knew she’d baulk at that figure. “You can help with the bills when you get a job. And have you seen this dump? Any amount is asking too much. I should be paying you to live here.”
She stuck her key into the lock, and even though the place was a dump, it filled him with pride that the house was his and he could give her a place to stay. Not as nice a place as his brother could give her, but a place.
She sneezed when she peered into the living room. The dust still hadn’t completely settled from when Owen had stripped the floor with the sander. The gross, outdated carpet had been the first thing they’d ripped out, and they’d discovered that the hidden hardwood floors he’d been so excited to see had been covered for a reason. They’d been scratched horribly from years of wear, years of living. But they could be fixed. Tomorrow they’d stain the now-exposed wood. The next day they’d varnish, and after that cured, they could bring in the furniture. Maybe Lindsey could help him decorate the place.
“Oh my,” she said, stepping over the threshold.
Oh my? What did that mean? If she told him to take his ugly house and shove it up his ass, he’d be crushed. He bit his lip, steeling himself to not show any emotion.
“It’s . . .” She took another step into the completely barren living room. Even the fireplace mantel and the wood trim that he’d been sanding down in the backyard had been removed.
“It’s what?” he asked, planting his crutches just inside the threshold and swinging himself inside.
She turned, and her eyes were brimming with tears again. Dear lord, those pregnancy hormones must be a constant challenge.
“Home,” she said.
Relief flooded him, and he might have gotten a bit misty-eyed himself, but he blamed it on the dust. She reached out a hand, and he released the grip on his crutch to squeeze her palm.
“I feel that way too,” he said.
Four feet scampered out of the kitchen—where a repetitive banging had just started—and Hawn dashed into the room, big brown eyes shining, mouth wide, tongue lolling, and tail wagging. Hawn hopped up and down beside Lindsey until Chad bellowed, “Down!”
The exuberant dog immediately dropped onto her belly, her head resting on her front paws. She stayed put even though her entire body quivered with excitement. The banging in the kitchen stopped.
“She listens to you,” Lindsey said.
“She knows who’s alpha dog around here.”
“What the hell are you guys doing home so soon?” Owen asked from the dining room doorway. Dirt covered every inch of his body, and his hair looked like it had lost a fight with a bag of sawdust.
“I couldn’t wait to see the house,” Lindsey said.
Chad was glad she didn’t tell Owen that Josie had made an unwelcome appearance at dinner. He’d tell his brother soon, but Chad was still processing what he’d learned about her infidelity and wasn’t sure he could talk about it without losing control of his emotions.
“You should start with the upstairs,” Owen suggested. “It’ll make the mess I made of the kitchen easier to take.”
“How’s the plumbing?” Chad asked, assuming Owen had already gotten into the walls behind the cabinets.
“Scary,” Owen said. “Whole stack needs replaced.”
Chad groaned and then took a deep breath. “It is what it is.”
“I thought Owen doesn’t do plumbing,” Linds
ey said.
“He doesn’t, but I do,” Chad said. “Let’s go upstairs, Lindsey. We’ll see you in a few, Owen.” That was his not so subtle way of telling Owen that he wanted to show Lindsey her surprise without his presence.
Chad headed toward the stairs, which he was getting rather good at climbing on his crutches. Going down was a bit tougher, but he’d soon be giving the crutches up for his new prosthesis, and he vowed that then, nothing would slow him down.
“Do you like this banister?” Chad asked as they stood on the ground-floor landing. “We can probably find a more ornate one at a salvage store.”
She placed a hand on the round ball atop the newel post, caressing the worn wood. “It’s home here,” she said. “I don’t think you should replace it just because it’s a little plain.”
“I think you’re right. Once we get the woodwork all done, you can help me pick paint colors. We’ll paint samples on the wall to figure out which one brings out the tones we want highlighted in the wood.”
“You really get into this stuff, don’t you?” she said. She started to climb the unfinished wooden stairs. He’d sanded them all by hand just that afternoon.