Baby for my Dad's Best Friend (Seaport Billionaires #2)

5. Kaylee

5

KAYLEE

W hen I wake in the morning, I realize that I’m very excited and ready to start the day.

I don’t even remember the last time I woke feeling this energized.

I don’t know if I’m looking forward to starting work on the house and having something to dedicate my time to or if it’s just the promise of getting out of my parents’ house, but either way, I can’t wait for Austin to get ahold of me with that estimate.

Not when there’s so much on the list I can do myself, like painting.

The whole interior needs to be repainted.

I bet it hasn’t been done since my dad was a kid.

I throw back the blankets on my bed and push myself to stand up.

Since I showered last night, I just pull on some cloth shorts, a tank top, and a pair of tennis shoes.

I pull my hair up into a messy bun, and then I make my way downstairs for coffee.

“Well, look at you,” Mom says, watching as I pour myself a cup. “What are your plans for today?” she asks, not used to seeing me moving so quickly in the morning.

“I’m going to go by the hardware store and get some paint to start painting the house.”

“I thought Dad’s friend was going to handle the renovations?” she asks, taking a piece of bacon from the frying pan.

I nod as I swallow a sip of coffee. “Yeah, he is. The bigger stuff, anyway. But I want to save money where I can. And there’s no point in me paying someone to do a job that I can do. Especially when I have the time off from work. This kills two birds with one stone. I save some money and it gives me something to do.”

She smiles wide, happy to see me moving forward with something. “Good. I’m glad to see you finding your way again.”

I return her smile. “Me, too.”

Dad rushes out to work, and Kinsley leaves for her summer internship.

Parker is probably still asleep since he’s been working the midnight shift at the tire factory just outside of town.

It’s just Mom and I having coffee and breakfast.

When we finish, I help her clean and rush out as well, ready to get started on my day.

I drive to the hardware store and help myself to the paint section.

I look over all the color swatches, unsure of what I want to go with.

I know I want the color scheme and tone to flow nice and easy, not bright and drastic.

I also don’t want to be surrounded by white. I feel like I’d be more worried about keeping things clean rather than living and being comfortable in my home.

I pick out a matte white paint for the ceilings, a beige color for the master bedroom, and a small can of navy blue to do an accent wall.

I also grab thin wooden pieces to do a board-and-batten wall.

The young teenage boy helps me with getting everything to the counter to be rung up.

“Oh hey, Kay. I haven’t seen you all summer. What have you been up to?”

I turn and look at the cashier, surprised to see an old friend from high school. “Hey, Tiff. I had no idea you worked here.”

She nods while picking up the scanner, pointing it at the barcodes on the cans of paint. “I just started a couple of months ago. Are you planning on going back to the grade school?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

Her brows lift and her eyes double in size as she shrugs. “Oh, you know. I just wasn’t sure after everything that happened.”

She leans in slightly and lowers her voice. “I can’t believe Michelle would do that to you. You two had been friends since grade school, and she goes behind your back and steals your man?”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s why I don’t have many female friends.”

She continues scanning my items. “I’m glad to see you out and about. I was worried that you weren’t taking the breakup well since you’ve been keeping to yourself.”

The more she talks, the worse I feel.

How many people know about Michelle and Scott?

How many people have noticed that I haven’t been around town much?

Do they think I’ve been hiding?

Have they talked enough that Scott and Michelle have heard these rumors as well?

The last thing I want is for the people who fucked me over to think they got the best of me.

Tiff goes on to talk as she rings me up and when she tells me a price, I hand over my card without responding.

When my purchase has been paid for, the same teenage boy helps take everything to my car and load it up.

I pull out as fast as I can, feeling the tears burn my eyes.

Tiff wasn’t rude, and she didn’t say anything to purposely hurt my feelings, but hearing someone else talk about my life like I’m a piece of gossip hurts.

At least she’s openly talking about it, unlike the others in town who only talk once my back is turned.

All I want is to leave the past in the past and focus on the future.

I need to build a better life so they all can see that the two people I trusted the most didn’t hurt me.

It takes a while to bring everything into the house.

I eventually get it though and start by giving the master bedroom a good cleaning.

I sweep the cobwebs and dust from the ceiling and walls.

Then, I vacuum the floor before washing everything with soap and water.

Once I’ve gotten the room as clean as I can get it, I pour the paint and start with the ceiling.

I eat some lunch and then put the first coat of paint on the walls.

All the prep work and cleaning before I started costs me some time, so I don’t have the time for a second coat today.

I figure I should give the ceiling and walls the night to cure before doing a second coat, anyway.

My neck and arms are sore, and I’m starving by the time I take everything outside to clean up with the garden hose.

I’m spraying out the paint tray when I hear a vehicle pull into the drive behind me.

I turn to see Austin walking across the lawn over to me.

“What are you doing?” he asks, coming to a stop next to me as he crosses his arms.

I let go of the sprayer, and the water stops. I stand upright and brush fallen hair from my face. “I needed something to do, so I spent the day painting the master bedroom.”

“Oh, I have all the painting figured into my estimate.” His brows pull together. “Did our wires somehow get crossed?”

“Well, I figured I might as well save some money by doing the things I can do myself. Plus, I hate living with my parents, so I need to get out of the house as much as possible.” I laugh. “You want to come see the bedroom? I have a question for you, too.”

He shrugs. “Sure.”

I pick up the roller, brush, and paint tray and lead the way inside.

We enter the bedroom, and he looks around. “This is just one coat?”

I nod as I put the panting supplies down on the plastic sheet I’d laid out. “Yeah, I figured I’d let it cure overnight before round two.”

He nods, spinning in a slow circle to take it in. “Good idea.”

“Anyway, I want to do an accent wall behind the bed.”

I move over to a section of wall across from the fireplace where I’m planning to put the bed.

To the left is the picture window that looks out onto the side yard, and to the right is the closet and bathroom.

“This wall. I want a board-and-batten wall, but I’m not sure how to go about it. I don’t have the tools to cut or hang it. And I have no idea how it’s done.” I turn to look at him.

“My guys have everything needed to get it done. I can have them hang it. Then, you’ll have to go in with some caulking and fill in the nail holes and all the cracks before painting. But this wood is thin, so you can usually just score it and snap it. Either way, it’s a quick job. The worst part is having to measure everything.”

I nod, smiling as I take him in.

He looks breathtaking in his loose-fit jeans and white T-shirt.

The thin cotton stretches across his broad chest and shoulders, and his toned biceps are bulging from the sleeves.

His dirty blond hair is messed up from a day of work, and his sharp jaw is starting to be covered by a five o’clock shadow.

His blue eyes lock on mine.

“If you want, you can follow me back to my place and we can go over the estimate. You can tell me what you want to do, and I’ll take it off my list. Or you can tell me if you want me to add something else.”

I’m still smiling as I nod. “Okay, that sounds good. I’m finished up here for tonight, anyway.” My stomach growls, and he chuckles.

“I’ll order some pizza.”

“Thanks.”

He nods toward the door. “Come on. You can follow me over.”

He leads the way out of the house, and I lock up behind us.

He climbs behind the wheel of his truck, backing out of the drive and waiting in the street until I’m lined up behind him.

Then he leads the way to his small house a few blocks away.

He pulls into his driveway, and I come to a stop behind him, watching as he climbs out and waits for me on the sidewalk.

“I ordered the pizza on the drive over. I hope you like everything.”

I follow him to the door and nod. “I do.”

He unlocks the house and then pushes the door open, holding the screen door for me to step in ahead of him.

I step into the dimly lit foyer and take a deep breath, inhaling the most intoxicating scent I’ve ever experienced.

It smells of him, an earthy oak scent mixed with rich tobacco, citrus, and leather.

It’s enough to cloud my head and make my heart race. My thighs tighten, and a throbbing forms between them.