Chapter 11 Juliet
Juliet
Poor Tinsley was terrified of going back to school after what happened last week, but I’m beyond grateful to Everett’s housemate for calling so Tinsley could talk to her brother. That’s twice he’s been there for her.
I convinced her to go to school today, bribing her with the idea of her friends having cake and singing her happy birthday—I need her out of the house; her new bedroom furniture is arriving this morning. She’ll be so surprised by her new fairy princess bedroom.
As soon as I get home, I rush to throw together dinner, placing all the ingredients for a ratatouille in the slow cooker before moving her old furniture to the garage until I can sell them.
Then I dust and vacuum before hanging the new curtains.
They’re pink, threaded with tiny silver stars that catch the light when I pull them into place.
I’m rolling out her new rainbow rug when a knock sounds at the door. Tying my hair back, I let the delivery guys in. There are four flatpacks and her new mattress, so I tell them to dump them in the hallway just outside her bedroom.
After they leave, I stare at them wondering where to start.
The chest of drawers and bed feel way too complicated and overwhelming, so I start easy with the two bookshelves.
I’m proud of myself when an hour later, they’re both erect and sturdy. Smiling to myself, I move them out of the way, and with my renewed confidence, I tackle the chest of drawers.
Unfortunately, confidence doesn’t equal ability.
I spread everything out on the carpet: wooden panels, dowels, screws in nearly identical sizes, and one tiny allen key. There’re so many pieces. I stare at the instructions, blowing a stray hair out of my face.
Come on, Juliet. You can do this. You’re a strong, independent woman.
Sitting cross-legged, I squint at the diagram. Step one goes fine. Step two is… ambiguous. By step four, I realise I might have stuffed something up, but I’m too stubborn for my own good.
Almost an hour and a half later, the chest of drawers is standing, but I’m flustered because while the top drawer slides beautifully, the second sticks halfway, and the third doesn’t seem to fit at all.
With a groan, I try to shove the middle drawer in further, but it’s definitely jammed against something.
I rub my hands over my face. This is a disaster.
Tinsley finishes school in three hours. There’s no way I have time to pull this apart, fix it, and put her bed together. Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
My stomach rumbles as I search for my phone, but I don’t have time to stop and eat now.
Ally and Quinn are both working, and would be just as hopeless as me, so I try Rory first, but he’s finishing a job in the next town over and won’t be able to get here for at least three hours. Kris doesn’t answer his phone.
There’s one other person I can try, but I feel bad doing it. I’ve been relying on him too much lately, and it’s not fair to him. But then I think about Tinsley’s face when she gets home from preschool. I promised her a birthday surprise, and right now, I have no way of delivering.
Scrolling through my contacts, I press the call button, bringing the phone to my ear.
Everett answers on the third ring.
“Hey, Juliet,” he says, sounding slightly breathless. “Is everything all right?”
“No,” I squeak out in a high pitch, then my words come out in a rush.
“I mean, Tinsley’s fine. She’s at preschool.
I’m trying to put together her new bedroom furniture for her birthday, but it’s all a mess, and I don’t know how to fix it.
Do you have classes today? I can’t remember what your schedule’s like on a Thursday, and you can absolutely say no—”
“Whoa,” he laughs. “Slow down. I’m free. I just finished for the day. What do you need?”
Slumping back against the wall, I say in a small voice, “I need help.”
“I can come over,” he says. “My housemate’s with me. Do you want both of us? Between the three of us, we should be able to get it done before you have to pick up pipsqueak.”
Relief washes over me. “Yes, please.”
“On our way.”
True to his word, they arrive fifteen minutes later. Everett calls out from the living room, and I shout back for them to come straight through to Tinsley’s room. He hovers in the doorway, taking in the chest of drawers.
“I followed the instructions,” I say weakly.
He smiles. “I’m sure you did. These things are designed for people with engineering degrees.”
“You’re telling me.” I huff out a laugh. “At least I managed the bookshelves.”
“Good job.” He steps into the room, revealing his housemate behind him. “Juliet, this is Blake.”
“Hi, Juliet,” the stranger says, his voice smooth as butter.
All the air is sucked out of the room as I take in the incredibly attractive man. Tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, with ink-black hair that falls haphazardly over his face. He’s wearing a BHU training jacket similar to Everett’s, yet he looks a few years older.
They’re both staring at me, and I realise they’re waiting for me to say something.
“Uh, hi. Hello. Th-thanks for coming to help.”
Blake grins and shrugs. “No problems. Anything for Sprout.”
My brow furrows. “Sprout?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Sorry, Tinsley. She’s a great kid.”
Warmth spreads through me at the compliment. She is a great kid. “Thanks.”
Everett moves over to inspect the chest of drawers. “This should be an easy fix,” he says to me, then turns to Blake. “You good to tackle the bed while I work on this?”
Heat blooms in my cheeks as thoughts of Everett’s friend tackling me onto a bed fill my subconscious.
Holy shit, what am I thinking?
I had sex with one man at a masked sex club, and now I’m thinking about jumping any good-looking man in close proximity.
Ugh, I need therapy.
He’s my stepson’s housemate.
“Where do you want everything?” Everett asks, and it takes me a second to realise he’s talking to me.
“Oh, I was thinking the chest of drawers could go there,” I say, pointing to the wall opposite the window. “With that mirror hanging above it.”
I found a beautiful antique mirror that resembles the one from Snow White at the second-hand furniture store in Beckford, and I know Tinsley will adore it.
“The bed will go in the corner there, and the bookshelves over there.”
“Too easy,” Everett says, nodding.
The room feels way too small with two giant men in it, and I inch my way to the door.
“You two seem like you have this under control,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. “I’m going to bake her cake before I have to pick her up.”
I escape the room, stopping just outside the door to catch my breath.
From inside, I hear Blake’s hushed whisper. “Dude, that’s your stepmum?”
A smile tugs at my lips, but it quickly fades when Everett snaps, “Don’t go there.”
I rush into the kitchen, not needing to hear anything else. Grabbing the ingredients, I whip up a gluten-free and dairy-free vanilla cake and put it in the oven. While it’s baking, I shower and freshen up before having to go pick up Tinsley.
Admittedly, I may have put a little extra care into my make-up—although I don’t have time to blow out my hair, so I brush it into a high ponytail—but only because it’s a special occasion for my daughter.
It has nothing to do with the hot as hell guy in his mid-twenties currently coming to my rescue with my daughter’s brother.
When the oven timer goes off, I take the cake out, leaving it to cool. I need to leave in ten minutes to get Tinsley, so I head back to her bedroom to check on the progress.
“Wow,” I say, my eyes widening as I step into the room. The guys have placed all the furniture exactly where I wanted it, and Everett is making the bed with Tinsley’s new sheets, while Blake finishes hanging the mirror.
They’ve both stripped down to their t-shirts, and I notice Blake has ink down one of his arms, but before I can get a good look at it, Everett interrupts.
“I know it’s her birthday, and you’ve probably got special plans for the two of you,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “but do you think it would be okay if we hung around while you get her, so I can say happy birthday? I haven’t got her present yet.
I was planning on giving it to her at her party on Sunday, but—”
“She’d love that,” I say, shooting him a warm smile. “Everett, you never have to ask to see your sister. You’re always welcome.”
“Thanks,” he mumbles, ducking his head.
I hesitate before adding, “You’re both welcome to stay for dinner if you like. I’m making Tinsley’s favourite French dish—ratatouille. It’s the least I can do considering you saved her birthday from being an absolute disaster.”
“It wouldn’t have been a disaster. You’re doing a good job with her, Juliet. She’s lucky to have a mother like you.”
His unspoken words about his own mother, who walked out on him when he wasn’t much older than Tinsley, hover awkwardly in the air.
“We can’t stay. Thanks, though. I’ve got plans with Emily tonight.”
“No worries. I’ll make it up to you another time.”
I catch Blake watching our interaction in the mirror, a thoughtful look on his face, but I don’t have time to analyse it. I need to leave now so I’m not late to get Tinsley.
“We’ll be back soon. Make yourselves comfortable. There are cold drinks in the fridge and food in the cupboards. Thank you again so much for saving me. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” Blake says.
Tinsley is a ball of energy when I pick her up, rambling about her day on the drive home. I don’t bother telling her Everett’s waiting for her at home; it will be another nice surprise for her.
The guys are sitting on the couch watching television when we walk in, and Tinsley lets out a shriek of excitement as she launches herself at her brother.
“Happy birthday, pipsqueak,” he says with a laugh, squeezing her tight.
“Happy birthday, Sprout,” Blake adds, holding his fist out to her, which she bumps with her own. It’s so darn cute, and I hate the way my stomach flips at the simple gesture.
“Thanks,” she says, then turns her attention to me expectantly. “Where’s my surprise?”
I smile. “In your bedroom.”
She scrambles off Everett’s lap and races down the hallway with the three of us hot on her heels.
“It’s a fairy princess bedroom,” she squeals, spinning in a circle with wide eyes, taking everything in. “With a princess bed.”
She skips to the bed that looks like a mini castle, entering through the door to find the steps up to her bed. There’s a slide that runs down to finish on the plush rainbow rug in the middle of the room. Underneath the bunk is a little cubby that she can play in with her dolls.
“This is the best present ever. Thanks, Mama.”
I blink back tears. “You’re welcome, princess.”
Tinsley glides down the slide, landing at Blake’s and Everett’s feet, and looks up at them. “Are you both coming to my princess party on Sunday?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” her brother says, cuffing her on the chin. “I’ve got an away game, but we’ll be back by two.”
She turns to Blake. “Are you coming too? Pretty please?”
He looks at me, something akin to panic in his eyes. Whether it’s because he thinks he’s overstepping or he’s terrified of coming to a five-year-old’s princess party, I’m not sure.
I shrug.
“The more, the merrier.”
He turns his attention back to my daughter and grins. “Count me in.”
“Yay,” she says, bouncing happily. “This is the best birthday ever.”
We leave Tinsley to explore her new room, and I walk the guys to the door. “Thanks again for everything,” I say. “I really do appreciate it.”
“Anytime,” Blake says, shooting me a smile that does things to my lady parts.
I mentally scold myself, especially since Everett is standing right next to him. “Don’t feel obligated to come to her party. I’m sure you have other things you’d rather be doing.”
His smile widens as he backs towards Everett’s car, which is parked on the street. “Nah, it sounds like fun. Do you need us to bring anything?”
I shake my head. “It’s all under control.”
“In that case, we’ll see you Sunday. Bye, Juliet.”
Everett waves, and I watch them climb into his car and leave.
Oh, boy. I’m going to need a cold shower tonight.