10. Brant
Brant
Thirty minutes pass by when I’m finished measuring the first floor. I leave the office with Jesse, having saved that space for last, and we greet the stairwell in the grand foyer.
Fortunately, he seemed submerged in work. My conversational skills didn’t need to be exercised too much. He did toss an interrogational question here and there, but that’s expected.
“Oh, Callie!” Jesse calls.
Callie’s nestling a full hamper of clothes at her side when she enters our path. Jesse walks up to her, and my boots decelerate along the tile.
“I have an important meeting soon, so make sure to steam my gray button down.”
Callie flicks her eyes to me over Jesse’s shoulder. Her stare locks on mine for a quick beat, and then she nods in compliance. “Yeah. Of course.”
I turn my head to the stairwell, acting unknowing.
Jesse plants a kiss at the top of her head before he’s pivoting to me. “I gotta say, you do work fast.”
His patronizing voice whips my attention to him, and I prop one boot on the base of the stairs. “I’m glad you think so,” I say, pointing to the catwalk above. “May I?”
“The faster the better,” he answers.
When Jesse disappears into the living room, my eyes jump back to Callie’s. She inches closer, her legs waddling from the weight of the pile of garments. They’re practically pooling out the rim of the weaved plastic, and I reach a hand out.
My eyes glue to hers as I curl my palm around the handle of the hamper. I place my binder and measurer on top of the clothes, and there’s a stiffness in my jaw that I have no intention of hiding.
Especially not from her.
Callie’s gaze lowers to the way my mouth dips at the corners.
Unamused.
Merciless.
She’s embarrassed. I know it. I just don’t care enough to grant her the pity she needs to justify his shitty behavior.
More than that, she’s really starting to piss me off.
After everything she was forced to live through. After all the heinous shit I’ve seen her father put her through, this is how she’s overcome it all?
This?
I release her of the laundry weight anyway. Her brows furrow when she cautiously glances over her shoulder, but I don’t allow myself to react.
Instead, I’m marching up the polished wood of the steps. “Where to?” I ask nonchalantly.
“The bedroom is at the end of the hallway,” she concedes.
Irritation claws at the edges of my heart when I enter the master bedroom. A king-sized bed with an upholstered headboard takes center stage. Complemented by sleek nightstands and a cozy seating area.
I crouch to park the hamper in front of the bed, swiping up my supplies after.
When I rise, Callie’s already greeting me at my side. “Look, you can’t just do things like this,” she whispers. “Okay?”
“Do what?” I counter. “Be a decent human being?”
She scoffs, hiking her shoulders. “I can carry a hamper, Brant.”
I flick my head away on a smirk, absently swiping my thumb across my nose. “You know what, Callie?” When my eyes land on hers, her bottom lip suspends in preparation. “The more you talk, the more you piss me off more than he does.”
“Fine.” Her retort is sharp when she bends to pluck some clothes from the hamper. “I won’t talk to you anymore. Build a zoo in the addition for all I care.”
“Nah, I can’t really do that. Permits are a bitch as it is,” I mutter under my breath.
She drops a few shirts on the mattress before straightening.
Her eyes are focused on the large window ahead, her palms finding her lower back.
I catch the way her chest pumps through deep breaths, and a subtle pink paints her creamy cheeks.
“Are you starting in this room? Because I’m not gonna listen to you yap while I fold clothes,” she demands.
“It’s bad enough I fed you some of my finger sandwiches. ”
A flair of her southern drawl tickles my ears. It sends a shudder to my core, and I’m instantly grounded.
I’m fucking grounded.
Just by a simple sound.
Her sound.
My lips perk when I’m yanked back to another lifetime with her.
If I had to guess, I would say there aren’t many who get to live multiple lives with their person. Hell, there are plenty of people who leave this earth never having lived just one life with them.
In our first life, the puzzle pieces were too serrated to connect easily. Turns out, the same is true for this second life. But if we figured it out once, even just for a blemish of time, couldn’t we solve that mystery again?
I battle a swallow as I inch closer to her side. Dignity snatches every instinct I have to slip that plump lower lip between my teeth.
Because that’s really all I want to do.
But fuck, I can’t.
I can’t.
I won’t.
“Callie, I’m not settling for less than perfection on this design,” I assure her. “If it’s for you, there’s no room for error here. I’m sorry if my joke was insensitive, but this is the truth. Okay?”
She ingests a shaky breath, her chin dropping as she fiddles with her hands at her stomach. “Of course it’s going to be perfect. It’s being designed by you,” she breathes. Her gaze lifts to mine as her body turns to me. “Jesse struck gold when he went shopping for an architect.”
My eyes skate between hers, a glossy layer now coating her sage-green hues. Then I pop a crooked grin. “You looked through my portfolio?”
Callie shakes her head. “I don’t need a portfolio to give my trust to you,” she volleys back. “And you should feel stupid about that question.”
Her face softens, a hint of humor crawling into her cheeks. Just as the irritation around my heart withers away. “I should start measuring,” I say.
She nods. “Yeah. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
I playfully hood my eyes. “Even for finger sandwiches?”
Her eyes roll. “Don’t push it,” she teases.