Chapter 24
J.T
Friday finally rolls around, and the house has been a damn construction zone all day.
Maddox, me, and a couple guys from the company have been hauling furniture since sunup.
Beds, dressers, boxes, that old oak desk Kelly insisted on keeping because Thatcher built it years ago.
I don’t mind.
Hell, I like it.
Feels right.
Feels like building something that actually matters instead of another luxury subdivision for people who’ll never learn their neighbor’s name.
Kelly’s in Evan’s new bedroom putting the last coat of paint on before we move his furniture in.
The kid asked if he could paint the room army green.
Didn’t even have to think about it.
“Done,” I told him.
Automatic win in my book.
Kelly rolled her eyes when I said yes, but she agreed anyway.
Something about it being “too dark,” but when Evan looked at her with those big hopeful eyes she caved in about three seconds flat.
I offered to hire someone to do the painting.
She refused.
Said she didn’t want to wait.
So we did most of it together this morning—rolling paint, arguing about coverage, laughing when she got a streak across her cheek that made her look like a tiny woodland commando.
Now she’s finishing the edges with a brush while the rest of us move furniture.
It’ll need a day to dry before the bed goes in, but that worked itself out.
Thea and Marcus McCrae are settled in the cabin Kelly’s been renting.
Nice little place. Cozy.
They’re happy enough to keep Evan another night.
“Are you kidding?” Thea laughed earlier when Kelly asked. “I barely recognize this little scamp anymore. I’d love to have him tonight.”
Kelly looked at Evan. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, Mom! Pop’s gonna play me in Battleship and I’m gonna kick his butt!”
Marcus snorted. “We’ll see about that.”
Then he ruffled Evan’s hair before pulling me aside a few steps away from the ladies.
“Well,” he said, folding his arms, looking me square in the eye, “you’re taking more than my best lumber now, J.T. You’re taking my family. I suppose you know what’ll happen if you don’t treat them right.”
I respect a man who stands guard over his people.
So I nodded like a good prospective son-in-law.
“Good,” he said. “Because there’re a lot of ways to make a man disappear at the mill. Mike’s lucky I wasn’t living here when he pulled that shit.”
There was a hint of regret in his voice when he said it.
I didn’t argue.
Truth is, I might’ve helped him.
We left Evan there for the night, and he promised to be ready bright and early tomorrow for his baseball game.
I’m actually looking forward to that.
The kid’s got spirit. And one hell of an arm.
Right now, though?
Right now I’m looking forward to something else.
A whole damn week of seeing Kelly and not touching her has been the sweetest kind of torture.
Between lawyers, moving, Evan, and her parents arriving, we haven’t had a second alone.
Tonight? Tonight that changes.
“Dad?” Maddox sticks his head into the hallway. “You good if I take off?”
I grin at him and walk over, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m good, son. But how about you?”
“What do you mean?” He looks puzzled
“Well,” I say, lowering my voice a little, “we never really talked about me marrying Kelly. Evan moving in. All that.”
He looks at me like I just asked the dumbest question in the world.
“Dad, you don’t have to ask my permission to live your life.”
I shrug. “Still.”
He smiles a little. “I’m happy for you. Kelly’s great. And Evan’s a good kid. I just want you to be happy.”
That hits deeper than I expected.
“Good,” I tell him. “Because I am.”
He nods, grabs his jacket, and heads toward the door.
But not before detouring down the hall.
Kelly steps out of Evan’s room just then, paintbrush in one hand, streaks of army green on her old jeans and a loose T-shirt.
Her hair’s pulled up in a messy knot, a few strands falling around her face.
She looks like she just stepped out of one of my best damn fantasies.
Maddox gives her a quick hug goodbye, says something that makes her laugh, and then he’s gone.
The rest of the crew left an hour ago.
Which means the house is quiet.
And in about three seconds…
I’m going to have Kelly McCrae all to myself.
A week of restraint is about to come due.
And I can’t fucking wait.