Tessa
The next few weeks were full of activity around my house with the renovation getting underway. The day before my demo was scheduled, Gray showed up with Eli and Wyatt to help me move to the empty bedroom and bath on the second floor. They would remain untouched during this phase of the reno.
“That’s so sweet of y’all to come and help me move.” I watched Gray and Wyatt maneuver the mattress up the set of steps while Eli carried my bedside table and called the audible, telling them when to take the next step or turn a corner.
“That’s the top step, Gray,” Eli called. “Now turn left.”
Gray did and hit a wall with his shoulder. “Ow. Hell, Eli, think you meant right.”
“My left, your right. You reversed it on account of your dyslexia.” Eli poked one of the table legs into Wyatt’s back, prodding him up the stairs.
“Cut it out, Eli,” Wyatt said. “And Gray’s not dyslexic.”
“On account of my dyslexia then. Move faster, Wyatt.”
“None of us are dyslexic, but I’m beginning to think you got dropped on your head as a baby, Eli.” Gray readjusted his hold on the mattress once Wyatt hit the top step, so they could swing around into the bedroom.
The mattress was the third and final trip of furniture they’d need to make since they’d already brought up the bedframe and box springs. All that was left were a few boxes of clothes, bathroom items, and the bedding.
Gray and Wyatt slid the mattress into place while Eli set the night table on the right side of the bed near the window.
“It’s going to work out great with this bedroom. Between this and the kitchen already finished, I should be okay during the remodeling process.”
“We’ll do the best we can to minimize any disruption, but it’ll get loud and messy before it takes shape,” Wyatt said, looking apologetic about it. Wyatt was quieter than his brothers but very observant from the few times I’d been around him. He didn’t miss much. He tipped his head to a photo on the long dresser against the far wall. “Is that your mother? You two could be twins.”
“Yes, but if you don’t mind, I don’t talk about my mom.” Not without crying I didn’t, and I didn’t want to break down in front of Gray and his brothers while they were here helping me move furniture. One day it wouldn’t hurt to talk about her. Gigi and my dad assured me time would ease the pain. I still saw pain in their eyes, so I guessed we were all clinging to that.
I saw Gray’s forehead wrinkle up as he moved his gaze from the photo and then to Wyatt before landing on me. I wanted to say it wasn’t Wyatt’s fault, but I was still trying to swallow past the tightness in my throat.
“Oh, hey, sorry. You want me to grab that box of bedding from downstairs before I head out?” Wyatt asked, quickly changing the topic.
“That would be great. Thanks.” When I focused on getting the “next thing” done, I could ignore the emotions tugging at me. For a little bit. And the next thing was making up my bed and unpacking some of my clothes.
“I’ll help grab the bedding,” Eli said, exiting the room behind Wyatt, Sully tagging along behind him.
Gray walked over, sliding his hand around the nape of my neck. “Hey. You don’t have to do all this today. You and Sully can come over to my place tonight. I’ll cook. I’ve got a guest room…” His eyes examined mine.
“Does that mean your king bed isn’t an option?” I bit my lip and looked him steady in the eyes. I was so far outside my comfort zone here, but if I was going to be the kind of woman who went after what she wanted—I had to be willing to hear no, right?
“Hell yes, it’s an option. It’s my first option, but I didn’t want you to feel pressured.” He pulled me in for a kiss. It was hot, and wild, and would have gone further if I hadn’t heard one of his brothers downstairs. “I’ll come pick you and Sully up after I’m done with work.”
“You’re sure? I don’t want to impose. Just because SBC is doing my reno, you don’t have to—”
Gray leaned in and kissed me quiet with a sexy growl. “This has nothing to do with the job. You sleeping in my bed is personal. Very personal and very separate.”
Well, okay. I could happily live with that.
Over the next few weeks the job rolled along at a quick pace. The first week saw demo complete, which included old walls coming down and new walls going up. After that would be running all new electrical, gutting the bathroom and updating with a clean, classic feel. Once all that was finished came the hard part. The decisions about colors and fabrics and furniture. Gray was leading me through more mood boards and websites in hopes I’d settle on something soon.
In our personal lives, Gray and I, on the other hand, were taking things slow. Savoring each new part of us—us being together. Learning each other. I’d see him on the job at my house about once a week. We spent two or three nights a week together. Sometimes just dinner. Sometimes just a movie from Gray’s massive collection of DVDs.
That whole thing—in bed, out of bed—it was a magical time. Some of that time was in bed. Some in my kitchen. Some in his kitchen and his bed. Up against his gorgeous wall. (That had been downright phenomenal, extraordinary, and transcendent.) But the love making was only a part of the magic.
Getting to know Gray was pretty special. He was smart, passionate, loved sports, movies and reading. He was super competitive when it came to the softball league he was in. He had a wicked sense of humor, which had me laughing all too often. And he was just there—in a supportive, I-have-your-back way. All the Thorne brothers were like that.
My life was settling into a nice rhythm. Between throwing myself into my new business, volunteering, physical therapy, and working with my therapist to conquer my driving anxiety, I stayed busy.
The driving was the one thing that wasn’t going well. But my therapist was sure I’d have a breakthrough soon. She had me going through a “routine” each day. Going through the motions. At nine A.M. every morning, I loaded my freshly baked pet treats into my van. I’d plan my route for the day, get my keys, situate Sully next to me and start up the van—ready to drive off. And stay right where I was parked in the driveway.
Dr. Lewis’s working theory was that one time my brain would finally let go, like when a clog breaks in a blocked water pipe, and, boom, I’d just start driving. It was a great theory. So far, not a successful theory even with an extra session with Doc Lewis each week.
The good news was I had many supportive and wonderful friends who were willing to walk their dogs and cats to my house and buy my treats. I was even close to breaking even budget-wise! To brag a little, my treats were pretty incredible.
The bad news was the neighborhood HOA had now sent me two official letters warning me that I had to stop selling from my driveway as I wasn’t permitted for sales from my personal residence. The next notice would include a fine. Mrs. Potter across the street was not a fan and had reported me. Which, I totally got. Not only didn’t I plan to sell from my driveway, I was incredibly frustrated myself.
I made the mistake of telling my dad about the HOA letters. Guess who showed up at my house the next morning?
“Daddy, what are you doing here?” I knew what he was doing. And I loved him to pieces, but I couldn’t let him take this on too.
“Contessa…I’ve been thinking about this.” I handed him a cup of coffee and one of my berry crumble muffins fresh from the oven. “Maybe your doctor’s theory is sound, but you just need to take it one step further.”
God, I loved my dad. “I’m not sure her muscle memory theory holds much water.”
“The brain is a muscle. It won’t hurt to try.” He took a bite of muffin, washing it down with a sip of coffee. “Let’s just try it a week. Let your brain go through the motion of ‘driving’ your route.”
“Okay. Only a week though, Dad.” My therapist said the anxiety was tied up with my guilt. The odds were high when I was ready to deal with the guilt, I’d be able to deal with the anxiety. I totally believed this theory, but that didn’t make it any easier. “One week. And I love you to pieces.”
“Back at you, Tessa Imogene.” He wrapped an arm around me and steered us out of the house.
So that’s how my dad helped make Bow Wow Meow, Tessa’s Mobile Pet Treats mobile for the first time. I sat in the passenger seat while my dad drove the van, Sully living happy as a—well, a dog in a car—while we rode my route. I’m not sure how much healing my brain did or if it soothed my anxiety, but I loved every minute of time spent talking with my dad.
I made the mistake of telling Gray about what my dad did. Guess what happened? He offered to drive me too. And he must have told his brothers because they each offered to take a turn driving my route. I very politely turned them all down.
I never turned Gray down when it came to spending the night though. Or when he invited me to his place. If I was developing any muscle memories, they were all about what it felt like to fall asleep in the circle of Gray’s arms.
Yes, slow and steady, Gray and I were getting along. And it was magical.