Chapter 16 Daisy
It’s been a long, hard week, but it feels so good to have made some progress on the cottage. Anytime I’m not at work, I’m at the cottage with Miles or the girls, working late into the night to get it ready to be lived in.
We’ve also been getting quotes for the bakery, which is going to be ridiculously expensive, but Miles keeps telling me not to worry about it.
But I do.
The money he’s spent just to purchase it feels excessive, and when I lay down at night, I’m still riddled with guilt over it all.
It’s hard to process and understand why, after everything that happened, he still wants to help me with this dream.
Why he wants to use all his money to help me when I did nothing but fuck him over the moment he left.
There will never be any excuse that negates what I did, but I do see it differently now that Isaac is out of my life.
Realizing now that he saw my vulnerability, he saw my pain and used that against me.
He made me dependent on him, but he also filled my head with so much negativity surrounding Miles that I began to believe it.
Fuck, I probably need therapy, especially after everything that happened with my dad, and now starting over with Miles. I don’t ever want there to be guilt or resentment. That could ruin us more quickly than we realize.
And we need this to work.
I need this to work.
Being with Miles was always the plan, and I love that he’s back and things are going well. I just wish it hadn’t taken me a year to break up with Isaac permanently. Miles and I lost an entire year together because we were too stubborn, too afraid to admit where it all went wrong.
It’s hard to blame yourself, but that’s the only place I should be pointing the finger. Taking ownership of what happened is helping me recognize that I never want it to happen again. This feeling I’ve carried with me since the day Miles left is heavy, and I’m ready to put it down.
I’ve been distracted most of my lunch shift at the bar, and when Lisa calls my name, I look over at her. With a smile on her face, she shakes her head.
“Go. When your last table leaves, just go,” she says, and I can’t tell if she’s pissed at me or if she’s sending me off to work on the house.
She knows all about it. It’s been the only thing I’ve talked about for the last week: filling her in on how we ordered flooring and cabinets, and how Miles resurfaced the bathtub so we don’t have to buy a new one, and how he and Nate put a new roof on.
Luna and Tanner spent last weekend helping us repair the wooden siding and painting it.
It’s pretty much become my life, and every penny I have has gone into it so far. And I don’t plan to stop. I’ll never be able to match what Miles paid out, but I’ll give what I can.
“I’m sorry. It’s just been so much work,” I tell her. “But I’m good. I’ll finish my shift tonight and head over after I’m done. Miles is supposed to be starting the flooring after he’s done with lessons and a few of the boards he started.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lisa quips playfully. “I know I’m losing you to the bakery eventually, and I know how much you want to get out of your mom’s house. Just go.”
She grabs a bar towel, snapping me on the ass with it, which only causes me to laugh. She’s been so good to me, and not just when it concerns getting the cottage ready.
She gave me a job when Miles left with the band and I couldn’t function. I dropped out of school and drank too much, spending my days sleeping and depressed. Alana and Sloane tried, but they had their own lives, and I was too far gone.
It was Lisa giving me a job here that helped. It got me out of the house, giving me something to do other than focusing on missing Miles. I’m forever grateful to her.
“Are you sure?” I ask her, and she rolls her eyes, tapping her nails on the old, worn-out wooden bar top.
“Of course I’m sure,” she replies, but pauses, watching me with reverence, and it catches me off guard.
“What?”
“I’m proud of you,” she says, catching a hint of sadness in her voice. “After your dad left and you stopped coming in here, I missed seeing you. I’m glad you took me up on the job offer, and now you’re going to open a bakery.”
“Thanks,” I say softly. The mention of my dad makes my chest clench, a tightness that nearly brings tears to my eyes.
“Watching it all happen again, though, that was really fucking tough.” As the words leave her mouth, she walks over to where I’m standing. The tears begin to pool, hating that my past is still such a struggle for me.
“It really was, but we’re moving past it, and that’s good,” I reply, blinking back the tears as I take a deep breath.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” Lisa now says, a mock seriousness to her tone.
“What’s that?” I narrow my eyes, taking her in, wondering what she’s about to say.
“Once you have the bakery up and running, you let me put some things on the menu here. Pies, cake, whatever you think.”
“Oh my god, of course,” I practically shout. “After everything you’ve done for me, you can have whatever you want.” I toss a soft elbow into her side, and she pulls me in for a hug.
“But not for free. Never for free. I’m paying for it all.”
“Lisa, stop it. Just having my baked goods on your menu will bring people down to the bakery. It’s like free advertising,” I tell her, but she shakes her head, a stern look on her tanned face.
“Businesses don’t work like that, darling. Nothing is ever free, and it’s good you remember that.” Winking at me as she pulls back, shooing a hand in my direction now. “Go. Learn how to put down some flooring. I hear YouTube has some great tutorials.”
Before pulling out of the parking lot, I shoot a text to Miles, letting him know I’m on my way over to the house.
Me: No rush, but Lisa let me go early, so I’m heading over to the house to get started. Unless you want me to wait for you. Not like I know what I’m doing anyway. Lol.
Miles: I’m already here, babe.
Me: What?? Miles! You’re killing me!
Miles: Whatever. Just get your ass here.
I giggle at his response, loving that despite everything, we’re falling back into our old habits, and there are times I forget we ever broke up.
Stopping off at my mom’s, I change my clothes and toss a few things into a bag for Miles’s house. I’ve pretty much been spending every night there since we got back together, and it’s going to be great when we can just officially move in together.
Kai has got to be getting sick of us, and to be honest, I’m pretty tired of wondering who he’s going to bring home each night. Finding them in the kitchen in the morning, wearing his T-shirt and nothing else as they drink our coffee and eat our food.
As soon as I reach the street, I can see the little run-down building that will one day be the bakery I dreamed about.
I still can’t believe it’s happening, and I remind myself that once we’re done with the cottage, I need to meet up with Sloane and Nate to get to work on designs for a sign and branding and all that stuff.
I pull around back, parking my Jeep behind Miles’s SUV, a surfboard strapped down on the roof rack, and it makes me smile. There will come a time when we live here. Our cars and our surfboards will be here, our life will be in this little cottage together.
The sound of the saw buzzes as I push open the front door, finding Miles already working. He’s laid half the floor, and I’m shocked by how different the cottage looks.
My mouth falls open, taking in the beautiful color and the warmth it brings to the room. We chose a color called beach sand oak, and it seriously does look like the color of sand, and I’m obsessed.
“Holy shit,” I say when the saw stops and Miles looks over at me. He pushes his safety glasses up onto his head, smiling.
“Pretty fucking great, right?” he counters, beaming as he takes in the work he’s done so far.
It looks like a real house, not some disastrous shell of a home that smelled musty and dirty, overwhelmed with years of filth and grime.
I can’t even begin to answer him, never thinking we’d get to the point where we’d be back together, but here we are, creating a home together. That feels bigger than anything I’ve ever done in my life.
“You wanna cut the planks and I’ll lay the floor?” Miles asks me, pulling his T-shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face.
But I still don’t respond, sucking back a breath that I hope quells this sudden urge to burst into tears. This is really happening. This is going to be our first home together.
“Daze?” Miles says, walking over to me.
This beautiful man is doing all of this for me, and I can’t even begin to process all the emotions I’m feeling. He came home for me. He left the band for me. He bought this for me.
My chest aches, a physical pain that makes my heart feel like it’s going to burst. Miles Olsen is my forever, and while it seems so stupid that half a floor makes me feel this way, it does.
“You okay, babe?”
I nod, the tears spilling from my eyes and down my cheeks. I swipe at them as Miles stops in front of me, a look of concern flashing in his crystal blue eyes.
“I’m good. I’m great,” I mutter, smiling through the tears. “I’m just…” I trail off, throwing myself into Miles’s arms.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him close, holding him to me as my fingers slide up and grip the back of his neck. I want to hold him forever, tell him how grateful I am to have him and everything he has given me.
“This is so much,” I whisper, my face buried in the crook of his neck. “This is ours. Our house. Our home.”
“Do you love it?” he asks me, his words a soft lull against my skin, his lips pressing into my hair in a light kiss.
“I love you. I love it. I love…” Again, my words fail me because there aren’t enough words in the world to explain how I’m feeling. I never thought this would ever happen, and here we are, making it happen together.
“So what do you say? I’ll teach you how to use the saw and we can crank this out? Have it finished by tonight?”
“Perfect.”
“I can’t believe we finished,” Miles whispers to me, my eyes still closed, exhausted from getting back to his place so late.
“Me either, but it looks so good,” I say, turning over so I can wrap myself around him, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine.
“You still good with being at the cottage so the cabinets can get delivered?” Something we talked about yesterday while we were working. He probably figures I forgot, given how much we had going on.
“Yep, all good. I’m off today. Anything else you want me to do?” I say, and as soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel him smile against my hair.
“Definitely,” he murmurs, his hand sliding down my back, grabbing my ass. “You can do me.”
“Miles Olsen, you are insatiable.”
“And you are impossible to resist.”
We finally make it out the door, struggling to get out of bed, and then struggling to get out of the shower, nearly unable to keep our hands off each other. Clearly, being exhausted and sore from putting down all the flooring last night has had zero impact on our sex life.
And when I pull up to the cottage, I smile, thinking about all the work we’ve put in and how different it looks. I can’t wait to go inside and see the floor again, this time in the bright light of the sunshine.
Pushing the key into the lock, the door opens, and inside, taking up the vast open space of the living room and the kitchen, are dozens and dozens of daisies. They’re in vases and plastic cups, pots and containers, dotting the new flooring.
Biting down on my bottom lip, the smile tugs quickly, spreading across my face. I have no idea when Miles had the time to do this, but the gesture is grand.
I take a few pictures, stepping farther into the room, seeing they line the little hallway that leads back to the bedrooms and the bathroom. I snap a couple more before sending them off to Miles.
Me: Oh my god, you are unreal! When did you have time to do this?
Miles: I didn’t do that.