Chapter 10
Grayson
Atwo-by-four swings around at my head, and I have to dunk so it doesn’t hit me directly in the temple.
“For the love of Pete, will you watch where you are swinging that thing?” I growl at Brooks.
He swings back around to look at me, and I have to dunk again. There’s a smug grin on his face when he looks at me, and it’s all I need to see to know he did it on purpose.
I look to the ceiling, questioning whether god gave me the most annoying little brother or if all little brothers are this way.
“Why do you even have a two-by-four, Brooks? We are painting the nursery, not building anything.”
“Maybe you are painting, but I’m doing man’s work.”
I eye him suspiciously. “Which is what, exactly?”
“I’m not telling you. You’ll want to join, and then the painting won’t get finished.”
“So you are going to leave me to paint on my own?” I ask, glaring at him now.
He shrugs. “Exactly.”
Then he whips back around, and I have to hit the dirt to keep from taking a hit to the jaw.
“Painting was the whole point of you coming over here,” I call after him.
But he either didn’t hear me or is ignoring me, and the probability of it being the latter is extremely high.
Pushing myself off the ground, I stand, dust my pants off, and nearly jump out of my skin when the sweetest little voice comes beside me.
“I’ll help you paint, Uncle Grayson.”
My hand flies to my heart when I turn to face my niece. “Avery, what are you doing here?”
She shrugs, pulling an unwrapped sucker out of her pocket and shoving it in her mouth. I cringe at the lint that must be all over that thing, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
“Mommy and Aunt Georgia said I should supervise you and Daddy. I didn’t know what that word meant, but Mommy said it means I get to boss you around.”
I sigh, squeezing the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “And where, might I ask, did your mommy and Aunt Georgia slip off to?”
Another shrug. Another lick of her sucker.
“Don’t know. They didn’t say. Aunt Georgia was looking for your wallet before she left, though.”
The hold on my nose grows tighter, and I groan. “I think my wallet may be in trouble, Avery.”
“Nah,” she says between licks, “Aunt Georgia is good at taking care of things. She’ll take care of it.”
“I bet she will,” I grumble. “Come on. Let’s go see about painting that room.”
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“What is going on here?”
Georgia asks the question carefully as if she might hurt my feelings if she asks it any other way. But I already know what she sees—a disaster.
Avery and I have been working on painting the nursery for the last four hours, and all we’ve managed to do is get more paint on us than the walls.
The most I can say is that I had the foresight to cover the floors before we started, so there’s at least that.
Standing, I stretch out from where I was crouched over the paint pan.
“We’re painting.” I wince.
Emryn comes in behind Georgia, gasping and covering her mouth with her hands as she looks around.
“Thanks for that, Emryn,” I grumble.
She grimaces. “It’s—not that bad.”
Georgia’s mouth opens and closes, trying to find something to say, and Avery watches her, her keen eye picking up on every one of Georgia’s facial expressions.
“Do you like it, Aunt Georgia? Do you think the baby will like it?” Avery asks, walking up to her and grabbing her hand to pull her further into the room.
On her side of the room, Avery created pictures on the wall with the paint. I tried to show her the right way to paint earlier, but she was content to do it her way. So I let her, figuring I could cover it up later. I realize my mistake now that she’s proudly showing off her artwork to Georgia.
“It’s beautiful, honey,” Georgia says, stroking her hand down Avery’s hair.
I step up, preparing myself to be the bad guy, but Georgia shakes her head.
‘Not right now,” she mouths.
I nod.
“Where’s Brooks?” Emryn asks from where she stands in the doorway.
Annoyance at my younger brother surges in. I haven’t seen the man all day. He took his wood and disappeared, leaving me here with Avery. Not that I mind watching her, but what the heck, man, he came here to paint.
“I don’t know. He disappeared. I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“What do you mean he disappeared?” Emryn asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow.
Opening my mouth, I start to explain, but suddenly, a voice comes from the hallway.
“Don’t let him lie to you, pretty woman. I’ve been here all day—” Brooks’s voice trails off as he walks into the room and looks around. “Whoa, what happened here?”
Emryn eyes him, pursing her lips. “You’ve been here all day, huh?”
Brooks is smart enough to offer his wife a sheepish smile. “Well, maybe not all day. But in my defense, I had something to do.”
“What could you have possibly been doing?” My voice comes out just a bit hysterical. Georgia places her hand on my arm, and some of the energy coursing through me dissipates.
But I still narrow my eyes and glare at Brooks, waiting for his answer.
“Well, if you will calm down—”
“CALM. DOWN. You want me to calm down? Are you insane?”
There’s a tug on my hand, and I look down to see Avery there. “Uncle Grayson, it’s not nice to call people names.”
My eye twitches. Brooks smiles. My patience is two seconds from flying out the window.
With a deep breath, I crouch down so I’m face to face with her. “You’re right, honey. It won’t happen again.”
“Great,” Brooks says, clapping his hands together. “Now that that’s settled, would anyone like to see what I’ve been up to for the past four hours?
“I would, Daddy,” Avery says, skipping over to where Brooks is. He scoops her up in his arms and tickles her sides. “Great, Bug. Let’s go before Uncle Grayson’s grumpy face gets worse.”
They sprint out the door, Avery still in his arms and her laughter floating back to us.
Stomping off, I follow after them with Emryn and Georgia on my heels.
I can hear Avery’s laugh downstairs now. As satisfying as it would be to stomp down the steps, I stop and wait for the two pregnant women behind me to catch up before I head down the stairs in front of them—just in case.
My annoyance follows me down the steps until I reach the bottom. Then I see what Avery and Brooks are standing in front of, and my mind goes blank.
“What—what is this?”
Brooks shrugs. “Looks like a crib.”
I glare at him. “I got that, Captain Obvious, but where did it come from?”
“I made it.”
Beside me, Georgia gasps, her hands coming up to rest over her mouth as tears fill her eyes.
“Brooks,” she chokes, walking closer and running her hand along the wood. “It’s beautiful.”
I can still smell the sawdust from the freshly cut wood as I try to swallow around the thick lump in my throat.
Brooks steps forward, a serious look on his face now. “I made one for our baby a couple of weeks ago. I figured this would make a good baby shower gift. So I made you guys one too. If you don’t like it, you can sell it. Don’t feel obligated to keep it.”
His hand reaches up, rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a vulnerability in the way his eyes dart from me to Georgia, and if anyone ever asks, I’ll deny the next thing I do.
Stepping forward, I wrap my arms around him and clap his back. “Thank you, Brooks. I couldn’t ask for a better brother.”