Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
RORY
I paced my kitchen, trying to take slow, measured breaths to the rhythm of the ringing phone. I’d read somewhere that controlled breathing could reduce anxiety and anger and help one maintain a calm demeanor.
That shit was just not working.
My anger was still sky-high, my teeth clenched as I recalled what Ella had told me when I’d dropped the girls at Mimi’s for a sleepover. I could handle a lot, but it turned out I lost my mind when my daughters were dragged into a situation they didn’t need to be involved in.
“Hello?”
I stopped pacing and clenched my fist. “Carol Ann? Hey, this is Rory Haven. How’re you doin’?”
“Rory? Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise! I’m just fine. I want to thank you again for bringin’ your lemon bars to the bake sale yesterday. They sold in a flash!”
Of course they had. My lemon bars were delicious. “I’m happy to hear that. And actually, the bake sale is why I’m callin’.”
That damn bake sale might as well be a den of gossip for all the sordid half-truths that got passed around there. I was ashamed to admit I’d once been on that side of it, running my mouth right along with Carol Ann about things that didn’t concern me and were none of my business.
And hadn’t that just come around to bite me in the ass?
“Oh, all right,” Carol Ann said. “What’s on your mind?”
“Ella mentioned y’all were chattin’ up a storm about my little situation.” I waited, downright giddy when Carol Ann sucked in a sharp breath. Gossipers weren’t used to being confronted, and they relied on their subjects to be too timid to approach. Well, fuck that. They brought my daughters into it, whether intentionally or not, and I wasn’t going to sit back and let them think that was okay. “I so appreciate y’all’s concern for me out here on my own, but I wanna let y’all know that I’m doin’ just fine. We’re doin’ just fine. No mopin’ about or bein’ depressed.”
“Oh, well…we just— We were?—”
“Concerned for my well-being, obviously,” I said dryly.
“Yes, of course! We’re just worried is all. Wanna make sure y’all’re doin’ okay.”
“Well, there’s no need for that. Y’all don’t need to waste your breath or energy frettin’ about li’l old me,” I said with a fake cheeriness. “And I’d especially appreciate it if you didn’t do all that worryin’ within earshot of my seven-year-old and her friends.”
And that right there was the kicker. I could’ve let the whole thing roll off my back if Ella hadn’t approached me about it. Hadn’t held my face between her little hands, expression utterly serious as she’d studied me and asked me if I was really moping and being depressed over her daddy and Sarah Beth. The question had nearly gutted me. My girls had enough to worry about trying to traverse this new life, without concerning themselves with the made-up problems busybodies attached to their momma.
Carol Ann cleared her throat. “Certainly. I apologize that she heard that. We were just?—”
“Yes, I know. Concerned for me. Bless your hearts. Now that we’ve got this all settled, would you mind passin’ that along to your friends? I’d do it myself, but I’m a little busy out here, wallowin’ in all my tears.”
Satisfaction rolled through me as I pressed the end button without waiting for Carol Ann’s response. I set my phone on the counter, unable to stop the smile from overtaking my face.
“I am so turned on right now.”
I whipped around to find Nash standing in my dining room, his gaze sweeping over me from head to toe and all the yummy places in between. I lifted an eyebrow. “Momma bears get you goin’ now, is that right?”
He closed the distance between us, wrapped an arm around my waist, and tugged me until our bodies were flush. “Not all of ’em. Just this one.” Dipping his head, he pressed a soft, sweet kiss on my lips. “You got anyone else you can call and yell at?”
I laughed, and Nash captured the sound with his mouth. How was this so easy with him? We butted heads, yes. We had disagreements about the correct materials to use in a client’s home, or the minute details of a piece of custom furniture. He riled me up like no one else could. Like no one else ever had. But…maybe that was exactly what I needed.
“What’re you doin’ here?” I asked against his lips. “I thought you were stayin’ late at the Shaws’ to finish up the outdoor kitchen. You know we’re startin’ the Taylors’ remodel next week, and we can’t push it back. We’re already booked out too far.”
“Got it covered, boss.”
“I hate when you call me that.”
“Liar.” He smacked my ass before slipping around me and heading straight for the fridge. He’d started leaving a six-pack of his favorite beer at my place, and he no longer asked me if I wanted a glass of wine—the answer was always, always yes, so he’d taken to just pouring me one when he grabbed his fix.
I murmured my thanks when he handed me a glass full of my favorite red. “So, you got finished early and figured you’d just stop by?”
“Actually…I’ve got a surprise for you.”
My brows hit my hairline. I could count on one hand how many times someone had surprised me and still have about four fingers left. “Is that surprise in your pants? Because I gotta tell you, your pickup lines need a little work.”
He barked out a laugh and wrapped his arm around my neck, tugging me into him and pressing a kiss to my temple. “Maybe later, if you’re lucky.”
If tonight was like every other night he came by when the girls were gone, there were no maybe s about it.
“My surprise is outside?” I asked as he led me to the front door. The sun was just setting, making the temperature dip slightly. I shivered as the wind kissed my bare legs, the hem of my dress ruffling in the breeze, and Nash tucked me farther into his side. “I’m not rollin’ around in the grass with you. It’s too chilly.”
“I’ll make sure you stay warm.”
“I just bet you will.”
He chuckled under his breath, held open the screen door for me, and ushered me out onto my new, beautifully done porch. He really had done an amazing job restoring it to pristine condition. I loved to sit out here on the steps after the girls went to bed with a glass of wine and just…be. The grasshoppers and whippoorwills were like my own personal lullaby. On nights like that, there was nothing better than my little secluded piece of heaven, and I could hardly remember the time when I’d hated this place.
“So, what’s my surprise? Do I have to go diggin’ for it, or are you?—”
“Quit your sassin’ and look, princess.” With hands on my shoulders, Nash turned me to the right.
“What—” My breath caught. There, hanging at the far side of my porch, was a swing. A beautifully ornate, obviously custom swing that, even if it had come straight from my dreams, couldn’t have been any more perfect. Enough cushions and pillows topped the piece that I wanted to fall into it and never leave. “Nash…”
“Do you like it? I sorta guessed on the details based on the design specifics you have me do for our clients, but I?—”
“You made it?” I looked at him over my shoulder.
“Well, not the cushions, obviously, but…” He shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal that he’d custom-built something for me—something I hadn’t ever even asked for—just to make me happy.
I knew he did work like that—I’d requested it multiple times for clients—but I’d never dreamed he’d make something for me .
“When you were workin’ on Grace and Bill’s place, you mentioned how much you loved porch swings. No big deal.”
No big deal? Um. No. It was a huge deal. I’d consulted on Grace and Bill’s house last year. Before Nash and I had officially started working together, when I’d just been coming in behind him and finessing some of the design details as a favor for family friends. I didn’t even remember mentioning it, let alone discussing it at length enough to warrant him making it just for me.
I turned to him, rested a hand on his chest, and looked up into his eyes. “To me, it’s a big deal. I can’t believe you did this. When on earth did you have time?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I did a little here and there, whenever I had a spare minute. I took measurements when I replaced the boards, and then drilled the holes while you were gone.” He rubbed his hands up and down my arms. “You wanna try it out?”
“Yes.” Before the word even slipped out, I stepped toward it. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes as the scent of pine hit my nose. It was one of my favorites because it smelled like new beginnings.
And that was exactly what this was, wasn’t it?
A breeze kicked up, the leaves rustling in the trees, and I shivered again.
“Cold?” he asked.
“A little. I’ll go grab?—”
“You’ll go sit. I’ll go grab.” Without another word, he slipped back into the house as I settled on the deep seat of the swing.
I tucked one foot under me and pushed off with the other, closing my eyes at the peacefulness of sitting out here and listening to nothing but nature. No road noise, no neighbors, just grasshoppers and the sounds of the wind through the leaves.
Nash draped a blanket over my lap before handing me the glass of wine. He settled next to me on the swing, setting his beer bottle on his knee and tucking me into his side. “So how’d I do?”
“It’s perfect.”
“C’mon now, I haven’t produced a single piece that you haven’t had something to say about.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
He hummed. “You can tell me if you want something different. I don’t mind.”
I turned my head to look up at him, feeling my throat tighten at the earnestness of his stare. And for the first time, I was honest with myself about this thing that was happening between us. Nash wasn’t perfect. He was the last thing I needed, and he sure as hell wasn’t part of my plans. But damn if I wanted to let him go.
Pressing my lips to his stubbled jaw, I said, “I don’t want anything different at all.”