12. The Fort
12
The Fort
Daisy
I didn’t sleep a wink last night. My tossing and turning was interspersed with hiding under the covers as the wind howled, threatening to crumble the solid walls of our Greystone. Okay, maybe not quite. But that’s how it felt. The gusts were so wild, so powerful. The storm calmed down a bit this morning, but the rain and wind are still battering our windows.
I force myself ou t of bed and drag my feet to the shower, hoping the hot water will calm my nerves. Once I step out again, I get dressed and walk to the kitchen.
Just when I’m about to make some coffee, the doorbell rings. And as always, I freeze.
Crap .
Todd knows I hate storms. Maybe he’s hoping to capitalize on one of my weaknesses to weasel his way back into my life.
I tiptoe to the front door, a hand on my chest in a vain attempt to calm my racing heart. Clamping my mouth shut won’t do me any good if my heart is thumping like a boombox in my chest.
I bring my eye to the peephole, and my heart only beats stronger. Asher is here, on my doorstep. Raindrops slide down his coat, and he’s never looked this gorgeous before.
“What are you doing here?” I say, opening the door.
He tilts his head to the side. “Didn’t you say you were terrified of storms? I brought donuts,” he explains, raising a soggy kraft bag.
My jaw drops. Literally. This man braved the wind and rain just to comfort me with donuts. I’m unable to produce a coherent sentence, so instead, I open the door wider, letting him in.
He takes off his coat and shoes, then looks at me with a concerned frown. “Everything all right?”
Granted, I’m still standing frozen in the entrance like I’ve seen a ghost.
I push the door closed with a loud clack . “Fine.”
“Have you had breakfast already?”
I shake my head, walking to the kitchen. “I was about to. Um, do you want something to drink?”
He follows me, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Black coffee?”
I gaze at him for a second, not sure what to do with myself. Asher is in my kitchen, which feels both bizarre and perfectly normal at the same time. He lifts his eyebrows, and I realize I’m staring again. Right, coffee. Spinning around, I fill up the coffee maker’s water tank. “So, like I said before, we won’t be able to do much today. The weather service issued a High Wind Warning, and it’s raining like crazy out there.”
“Tell me about it,” he jokes. “My shoes might be done for.”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Chicago weather can be unforgiving.”
“And you want me to move here?” he says, shaking his head in disbelief.
I turn around to face him, leanin g back on the counter. “Well, there are other factors to take into consideration. The weather is just ten percent.”
“Really?” He chuckles. “Are you this organized in every decision you make?”
I bite my lip. Should I really admit all my secrets to this man? “Maybe.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he says. “You did make a full hour-by-hour itinerary for my visit.”
“Is planning a crime?” I laugh as the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the room.
“Not at all. I’m impressed, actually. Making decisions and organizing stuff is not my thing at all. Teach me your ways, please.”
A smile breaks onto my face. “It’s not that easy. It’s more a state of mind.”
He grows a thoughtful look. “Really? You mean, a New York State of Mind?” A cheeky smile splits his face, showcasing his dimple, and I almost drop the mugs I’m holding. Oof. Just like the weather, this man’s smile should come with a warning. Like, prepare for extreme turbulence in your stomach and a wave of heat, followed by tingles throughout your body.
“The song,” he says, his frown returning. “You know, by Billy Joel?”
I nod quickly. “I know the song .”
His eyebrows shoot up, and he shakes his head. “Tough crowd.”
I laugh, setting our cups of coffee on the table before taking a seat. “No, it was funny. I was just thinking of something else. Sorry, I kind of spoiled it.”
“I don’t think you could spoil anything, Red,” he replies matter-of-factly, picking up a donut. Then, probably seeing the confusion on my face, he tacks on, “I mean, you’ve been great so far this week. I’ve really enjoyed myself, so you’re definitely not spoiling anything. Chicago still has some work to do, though.” He winks, making me laugh.
“Well, thanks for bringing me a proper breakfast,” I say, grabbing a donut and biting into it. “All I had was oatmeal.”
“Absolutely. I know the food is terrible in this city,” he jokes, taking another bite.
“Went all the way to New York to grab these delicious donuts, did you?”
He stares at me for a second, then bursts into laughter. “Touché. So, what’s the plan for today?”
“I told you. We can’t go out.” I wrap my hands around the warm mug.
“That doesn’t mean we’re do ing nothing all day, right? What did you have planned? A movie marathon? Online gaming? Make a pillow fort?”
I chuckle. “A pillow fort?”
“What, didn’t you make those when you were a kid?”
I grin, shrugging. “My brothers did, but they never let me play. They said I spoiled the fun by trying to ‘control the construction.’”
“Really?” he drawls, licking the sugar off his lips. “That’s hard to believe.”
“Haha. Very funny. I was the only girl around two boys. Someone had to take control.”
“A born architect.” A smile plays on his lips. “I wish I could say the same. I was always happy to let my brother take the lead,” he says, his casual mention of his family surprising me. He gazes off in the distance, probably thinking back to those times, and once again, I feel like an intruder in his personal life.
“We should make one, then,” I say, nodding resolutely. “If you let me be the architect, of course.”
He looks at me, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Deal.”
“Good thing I have a cozy blanket addiction.” I touch a finger to my chin. “I know exactly where to start.”
Once we finish our delectable pas tries, we gather all the supplies necessary, then begin brainstorming the best structure for our fort. I’ve already made a sketch of the space.
“Obviously, we’ll do it here,” I say, my gaze flitting around the living room. “We can flip the couch and use it for the back wall.”
He nods. “I’m on it.” Then, he takes off his sweater, and my heart hammers in my chest. What is he doing? He tugs down his T-shirt underneath, denying me a sneak peek at what I’m sure is a glorious six-pack. I gulp, shaking my head. What are you doing, Daisy?
I pretend to focus on the intricate construction project of building a pillow fort, my head bent over my drawing, but my eyes keep trailing over Asher’s body, how his biceps flex when he pushes the couch. Try as I might, I can’t look away. Trust me—you wouldn’t be able to either if you were in my shoes. How often do you meet a guy who’s both brain and brawn?
Exactly.
Besides, I’ve been alone for a long time. It’s only natural to—I shake the thought out of my head. Nope. Not going there. Asher is a potential colleague, and we all know what a disaster workplace dating can be. And anyway, it’s not like he’s even interested in me. Not to mention, we met only days ago, and he doesn’t even live here. Something is very wrong with me. Lucy’s right. I’ve been on my own for too long.
“Does that work?” he asks, hands on his hips.
I clear my throat, pulling myself into focus. “Yup. It’s perfect. Let’s grab the kitchen chairs for the rest of the structure.”
We keep going like that for a while, moving furniture and securing blankets for the roof with safety pins. We throw down even more fluffy pillows and blankets for the floor and the front wall, then take a step back to admire our work.
“It’s pretty good,” Asher says, nodding.
“A bit dark, maybe?” I tap my lips. “I think I know what it needs.”
I rush to Lucy’s bedroom, grab her desk lamp, then scramble to my room to fetch my own lamp and some LED twinkle lights. These should do the trick.
Once the lighting is installed, I scrutinize the finished project. “It looks great.”
“Would it be a fire hazard if we added some entertainment in there?” he asks, arching an eyebrow. I’m about to ask him what he means when he glances at the TV and waggles his eyebrows.
My arms droop. “Couldn’t you have said that earlier? We’re going to have to undo part of it.”
“Sorry.” He winces. “I just thought about it.”
“I hope you’re more organized in your professional life,” I tease, shaking my head. “Ugh, fine. Let’s see what we can do.”
As we carefully deconstruct and reconstruct part of our fort to fit the TV inside, Asher’s deep laughter fills the room. It’s infectious, and soon, I’m giggling too, our hands bumping into each other as we work together. There’s a moment when our fingers touch, and I look up to find his eyes fixed on mine, a playful grin on his face.
“Daisy, I think this might be the best fort ever constructed,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.
“Well, it was designed by a professional,” I reply, matching his tone.
“Good point.” He smirks. “Now, what should we watch?”
I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. “Not Twisters ?”
With another laugh, he grabs the remote and slides into the fort. “What about Into the Storm ? It’s a good one.”
I crawl in beside him and give him a pointed look.
“Fine.” He bumps his shoulder with mine. “You choose.”
I scroll through the movie catalo g, finally settling on a romcom I haven’t seen. The storm may be raging outside, but here in our little haven, it’s warm and safe. The movie starts, but my attention keeps drifting to Asher, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the twinkling LEDs. Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to be watching the movie much.