Chapter Twenty-Four

 

I swept the pencil across the wall, using my phone as a reference for what the Superman logo looked like. I’d spent the last hour drilling and putting up shelves in Eli’s room. The floor was coated in dust from the drilling, but I couldn’t be bothered to clean it up just yet.

I used my spirit level to make sure the lines were straight for the outside of the logo. The gold writing on the pencil read ‘Don’t be a twat,’ and kept catching my attention as it glinted in the light.

Nobody really needed twenty pencils that read ‘Don’t be a twat,’ but I had them, thanks to my mom.

It was a good motto to live by, to be honest.

The silence of the house was welcome as I sketched onto the wall. The logo was simple, but the straight lines were killers. Still, I got it done after about half an hour of drawing, and moved to paint.

I didn’t get to do this often, and it was nice. Nice to break away from the noise and occasional tediousness of my job.

I loved what I did, but there was only so many times you could do something before you got tired of it. I felt that way about painting in general, so doing the Superman logo was fun.

I’d just finished the red when the front door opened and then shut again. The twins were at daycare, and since I’d skipped out last night to go to Jayda’s, this would be the first time we were alone since…well, yeah.

I kinda hoped he wouldn’t come up and talk to me, but I knew him better than that.

No sooner had I thought that than I heard him on the stairs.

I bent down and dipped my brush into the yellow paint.

“Hey,” he said from the hallway. “You’re not holding a knife today, are you?”

“Ha. You’re funny,” I replied, getting excess paint off the brush. “Just a paintbrush today.”

“Am I interrupting a private concert?”

“I’m never going to live any of this down, am I?”

Brantley finally stepped into the room with a wolfish grin on his face. “No,” he said. “Not even close.”

I sighed and started painting again. “So unfair.”

“How is your finger today?”

“Painful, but it stopped bleeding. Just a normal Band-Aid today.” I wiggled my fingers in his direction.

He nodded slowly. “Good.”

I got more paint on my brush and carried on. Neither of us said anything for a moment, and the silence was both comfortable and awkward. How that was possible I didn’t know, but I did know that I didn’t mind being around him in silence.

“Do you want to get lunch today?”

I froze. “Just lunch, or…like a date, lunch?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Does it matter? Lunch is lunch.”

“In a restaurant?”

“The Coastal? Sure.”

“We’d be more likely to keep our clothes on.” Welp. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Brantley considered this. “I can order in.”

I waved my hand at him. “Stop that. I’m working, and I’m determined to get finished on time so they can have their rooms in a few days.”

He glanced around. “Are you really almost done?”

I nodded. “I just have to build the rest of the furniture, mostly. Oh, and put up the curtain poles.”

“Wow.” He cast his gaze over the room. “That’ll be weird when you’re done. I’m used to having you here.”

I smiled. “You’ll like it even more when I’m not.”

He didn’t respond, just inclined his head slightly in my direction. “So, lunch? Here or out?”

I twisted my mouth to the side. “Whenever. I planned to stop in an hour.”

“Do you have time limit for lunch?”

“Not really. I’ll just stay a bit later.”

He bobbed his head. “Let’s go out. I’ll call the Coastal and see if Marcie can save us a table.”

“Sounds good.” I smiled, and he returned it right before he turned and left.

My brush hovered over the wall.

Was it a date?

Damn it.

 

***

 

The roar of the restaurant was loud. Apparently, there was some competition down on Rock Bay beach and the Coastal had picked up all the people who’d turned out for it. Every table was full, and I was definitely glad that Brantley had called ahead. We’d been able to walk right in and go to our table, passing the people in the front foyer who were waiting for one themselves.

Marcie eyed with me raised eyebrows, a look that told me she wanted to know everything as soon as she possibly could. She put our coffees down and, with one last glance, excused herself to another table.

Brantley’s lips twisted in amusement. “She’s not very subtle, is she?”

I grimaced. “About as subtle as a nuclear bomb.”

He laughed quietly, opening the sugar packets she’d brought and pouring a couple into his coffee. “How much do you want to bet she’s going to call your mom and tell her we’re both here together?”

“Fifty says she’s already on the phone.” I snorted. “Whatever. People are already talking. It doesn’t matter.”

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it? The gossiping.”

“It doesn’t bother you?” I questioned, then shrugged. “I wouldn’t say it bothers me. I’m used to it. I do wish people could keep their nose out of my business, though.”

“I guess I’m still at the stage where I’m charmed by this small town and all its little idiocies.”

“Little idiocies.” I laughed, finally pulling my mug toward me. “That’s one way to describe it.”

“Well, they are. They’re kind of charming, in a really weird way. The gossip is…unusual, to me. I’m not used to everyone knowing everything.”

“Yeah, well, you started that with us when you told everyone I’d stayed late or whatever it was you said.”

He frowned for a moment. I watched as realization dawned, and he laughed hard. “Oh, god. I never told you.”

“Never told me what?” I narrowed my eyes.

Brantley scratched the back of his neck. “I never said that. It was a joke. I was fucking with you.”

I leaned over the table and smacked his arm. “Oh my god. All that stress, and for what? You ass!”

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t look sorry at all. “I forgot I never said.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

This time, his laughter was silent. “Well, there you go. Now, you know.” He sipped his coffee, eyes shining with mirth. “I did actually want to talk to you about something.”

“I should have known there was a catch with this lunch thing,” I said. “Does that mean it’s not a date?”

“It’s a half-date,” he replied.

“I think I can deal with that. What did you want to talk about?”

He paused.

And I knew. I knew exactly what he was about to say.

“You heard my conversation with Ellie, didn’t you?” I beat him to it.

He nodded. “I was coming up to check she wasn’t being a pain in your ass. I don’t think I heard it all, but I heard enough.”

I swallowed. God—what if he thought I’d overstepped my bounds? Had I overstepped? Should I have just not had that conversation with her at all?

“I’m sorry,” I started. “If I shouldn’t have talked about it with her, but I didn’t know what to say.”

His brows twitched into a frown. “What? No—it’s not that all. I wanted to, first, thank you for how you handled it. I could tell she came at you from left field with her questions.”

I blew out a long breath and slumped back a little in my seat. “Honestly, yeah. And I knew what she was fishing for, but…” I trailed off, looking away.

“But that’s not what you want,” he finished for me.

Not coldly, not sadly, not anything. Just a statement.

One that was true.

Or one that was.

Was…

Maybe.

I picked at my napkin. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” I admitted quietly. “I don’t know, Brant. That would have been true even a week ago, but I don’t know how I feel right now.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise glinting in his turquoise gaze. “That wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.”

“Well, I…” I sighed. What the hell could I say? How could I explain feelings I didn’t understand? “I don’t know what to say to you.”

He rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward. “You don’t have to say anything to me. You don’t owe me any kind of explanation, no matter how much I want one for that vague-ass answer.”

I half-smiled. “There are a lot of things in my head right now. I’m basically arguing with myself a whole lot.”

“Careful. I don’t want you to think too hard and hurt yourself.”

I stared at him flatly.

He grinned at me. A real boyish grin that sent butterflies through my stomach. “I still just want to say thank you for the way you handled her. She notices a lot, and…it’s not always a good thing. For the record, you already know that what she said is true.”

A lump formed in my throat. “I know.”

He took a deep breath. “And I like you, Kali. I like you a lot.”

My heart skipped.

“I know it’s hard and it’s complicated, but I wanted to make that clear to you.” He paused, then scratched at his jaw. “The last thing I expected when I moved here was to find someone like you.”

His words curled and curved through my body, grabbing hold of me.

The last thing I expected when I knocked on your door was to find someone like you.

That was what I wanted to say. But, the words wouldn’t come.

I was saved from an immediate reply by the arrival of our food. After a quick check on whether we had everything, we were left to ourselves and I finally grew a pair and asked the question about something I hadn’t realized was even bothering me until now.

“Can I ask you something?” I met his eyes.

“Anything.”

I licked my lips. “Am I…” Deep breath. “Am I the first? Since she died?”

He stared at me for a moment, then nodded his head. Just once. “I’m a father before anything else. I wasn’t looking to meet anyone when I met you.”

I swallowed. “I get that. I was just wondering.”

He smiled wryly. “Well, I’m so glad we got to have a nice, light conversation over lunch.”

I stared at him for a moment, my lips twitching, then started to laugh. “You’re the one who wanted this chat.”

“True. It escalated, though.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

He picked up his fork and let his lips curl into a small smile. “I hope not.”

 

***

 

Ellie stared at me. “Are you done yet?”

I glanced up into the doorway. “Nope. Not quite.”

She sighed and leaned against the frame. “Oh, gosh. It’s taking so wong.”

I fought back laughter. “I’m sorry. Maybe three more days. Four at most. Is that okay for you?”

“Can’t you do it kicker?”

“’Fraid not. I wish I could.” She had no idea.

“Dat’s okay.” She put her hands in the pockets of her skirt. “Daddy’s working and Ewi is asweep on the sofa. I bored.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Okay. Did you want to help me?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m building your toybox. See the pink lid?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Can I do some scwewing?” Hope flashed across her face.

“Sure. Come sit.” I waved her over. “Here’s a screwdriver for you.”

“Oh. It’s pink,” she breathed.

“They’re all pink.” I grinned and moved the toolbox between us. “See?”

“Wow.” Wonder crossed her little face. “Dat’s ‘mazin’.”

I grinned.

“How do you know which one you need?”

“Which screwdriver?” I clarified.

She nodded, clutching hold of the handle so tight her knuckles went white.

“The screws are different. Look.” I picked up one of the crosshead screws and showed it to her. “If you look the head of your screwdriver, it matches the shape. See?”

She made a great show of looking at both the screw and the screwdriver.

“If you put it in, it should fit.” I pinched the sharp end of the screw and held it out to her. “Try it.”

She did just that, poking it. Except I’d given her one that was a size too big.

“Oh, hold on. That’s too big. They come in different sizes, see?” I pointed at the screwdriver. “You need a smaller one.”

“Can I get it?” she asked.

“Sure. See if you can find the next size down.”

“Okay.” She rifled through them, checking each one until she came to a flathead screwdriver. “It’s different.” She held it up.

“Yep, there are two types. I don’t think I have any screws that it would fit, but not all screws have the cross. Some have one line, and that’s what you’d use a flathead—that’s what it’s called—screwdriver for. But, if you have a cross screw and don’t have the right crosshead screwdriver, you can use a flat one.”

“Weawy?”

“Yep. Poke the screw with a smaller, flat one.”

She got one of the small ones out and did it. More delight crossed her face. “Okay. I need a cwoss one, doe, wight?”

I smiled. “Yes, you need a cross one. Did you find it yet?”

She nodded. “You sittin’ on it.”

I plucked the screwdriver from next to my thigh with a grin. “Here you go.” I put the screw in the pre-drilled hole and twisted it a few times. “Okay, come here.” I patted my thighs, and she came to sit on me. “Now, very carefully, put the screwdriver in the screw and twist it clockwise, okay?”

“Why cockwise?”

I bit back a laugh. “Clockwise is to the right. That’s how you tighten screws. There’s even a rhyme my daddy taught me when I was little.”

“What is it?”

“Righty tighty, lefty loosey.”

“Wighty tighty, wefty woosey.”

It had a certain charm coming from her.

“That’s it. Turn right to tighten, and left to loosen.”

“Okay. Can I do it now?”

“Sure. Do it as tight as you can.”

She leaned forward and, oh so carefully, inserted the head of the screwdriver into the screw. She turned the screwdriver, sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth. I leaned around to see her face—she wore the mask of complete concentration.

Tongue out, eyes narrowed, brows drawn together.

It was the most adorable thing.

“Dere,” she said, sitting back. “I did it.”

“Amazing job!” I squeezed her lightly. “Can I please have the screwdriver to check how tight it is?”

She nodded and handed it over to me.

I checked. She’d barely turned it at all, but she was having fun, so it was what it was. I tightened the screw the rest of the way and grabbed the next one. At least I was almost done.

“I do again?” Ellie asked hopefully.

“Sure.”

She wore the same expression as she turned it. The sticking out tongue was my favorite part of all of it.

“Ellie, you’re quiet. What are you—” Brantley stopped in the doorway, phone to his ear. “Oh. You’re here.”

Ellie turned to look at him. “Ewi fell asweep. Kawi said I could help.”

He looked at me for confirmation.

I motioned to the fact she was sitting on my lap.

His lips tugged up. “She’s not bothering you, is she?”

“No, she’s helping. Look. She’s doing the screws.” I pointed to where she was giving it a good try at tightening it. “It’s almost done. She’s enjoying herself.”

“Okay. If you’re sure?”

“She’s fine. If she stops being good, I’ll pick her up and hand deliver her to you in your office, okay?”

He laughed, holding up a hand. “Okay, okay, fine. I just thought… Crap. Hello?” He ducked away. “Yes, I’m still here.”

His voice trailed off as he went downstairs.

Ellie made a clicking noise with her tongue. “Daddy said a bad word.”

Ah. Crap.

“He did. Naughty Daddy. Can I try that screw now?”

She nodded and let me tighten it. We repeated this over and over until all the screws were in place and tight. She even held the lid in place for me while I attached the hinges.

When it was all said and done, Ellie gently closed down the lid and walked around the box. Then, she stopped in front of it, and with a huge, proud grin on her face, she met my eyes.

“It’s perfeck, huh?”

“It sure is,” I agreed. “You did a great job helping me. Thank you.”

Even if it had taken an extra half an hour.

She beamed. I’d never seen her so delighted about anything before. “Can I help you tomorrow, too?”

“You can help me do your bookshelf when you get back from Summer’s. Does that sound good?”

She nodded. “I’m hungry. Do you fink Daddy cooked me food yet?”

“I don’t know, but we can find out.” I glanced at the time. It was almost six p.m. No wonder she was hungry.

Ellie ran downstairs and into the kitchen. I took the time to pack up my tools before following her, but I left the box in her room.

I went down and found Eli awake, sitting on the sofa, and Ellie pouting in front of him.

Eli looked at me. “Daddy’s on the phone. He keeps shouting.”

I frowned and walked toward Brantley’s office. He sounded super frustrated, even though he wasn’t shouting, but there was something about the “damn intern” mentioned a few times.

I rejoined the twins in the living room. “Daddy’s working, isn’t he?”

They both nodded.

“He probably doesn’t know what the time is.” I paused. “Why don’t we go in the kitchen and I can get you some dinner?”

More nodding. They ran into the kitchen, and when I stepped into the room, Eli was already trying to give Ellie a leg-up onto the counter.

“Oookay!” I said, waving my hands. “Let’s not do that. I’ll look instead of you two trying to break a bone.”

“Oh,” Ellie said sadly. But, they both moved, climbing up onto the table via the chairs instead.

I stared at them.

Eh. I’d won one battle. Why start another?

I left them there and opened the cupboard. I had no idea what I was looking for. Pasta? Spaghetti? What did you feed the tiny humans?

The souls of the elderly or something?

My eyes fell on two cans of tomato soup.

Ah-ha.

“How about tomato soup and grilled cheese?” I asked.

“Yes!” they shouted, clapping.

“Okay.” Good. I could do that. “Sit on the chairs, grab a juice, and let me get to work.”

Miraculously, they did as they were told.

Well. I’ll be damned.