Grabbing her hands, I twine her fingers in mine. “I did.”
“You look happy.”
“I had a lot of fun last night, Lark.” I try to explain everything I’m not sure I can put into words, like how much those women helped me heal from Eric. I bonded with them, even though I pegged them as nothing more than mean girls—a fallacy I’m glad I was proved wrong.
A knock echoes on the door before Arlo calls out, “Hey.”
“Love you, have a great day off.” Lark kisses my nose before bouncing away.
“Love you too, kid,” I whisper back, but she’s halfway down the steps, shouting to Kenzie. Head pounding, I sit up, grab the orange juice and aspirin, and down it like a college frat boy. “You’re mean,” I tell Arlo, who leans against the doorframe.
“Food first, coffee second.” He’s like a Greco-Roman statue, refusing not to move nor budge regarding food. “If I don’t encourage you, then you’ll eat junk and feel even worse.”
“But the coffee,” I whine around a bite of toast, though there is no heat in my words. Not as the smooth honey butter hits my taste buds just right, and I moan around a mouthful.
“Honey butter.”
All I can do is hum and moan until I’m licking my fingers clean, though a film of sticky residue remains. “This is so perfect.” And something so small and innocuous that I missed. Once again, this perfect man flies in to save the day with something I not only love, but I love with a fiery passion.
“Bloom has beehives,” he grumbles from the doorway, his cheeks flaming a bit.
Before last night, I might have had some feelings about this, but after spending hours with Bloom and getting to know her, all I feel is warmth that he went out of his way to get honey from his ex, and not just any honey, but fresh freaking honey that he whipped with butter. “Thank you,” I say with a sticky tongue for more reasons than just one. Also, I didn’t know Bloom had hives. That’s a dangerous venture, and a new level of respect rises inside me for the petite princess.
“You’re welcome.” Coughing into his hand, he points at Cooper. “I wanted to make up for my reaction to the skunk.”
“Cooper.” I chuckle. “Go ahead and say his name. He won’t spray you.”
“You sure about that?” He doesn’t look convinced, but he reaches behind him and grabs pieces of wood with a screen.
“What are you doing?” I fling off the blankets, leaving me in my unicorn pajamas that Arlo pointedly avoids looking at.
“Making it up to…” His face twists up into a wrinkled mess. “Cooper.”
“That hard?”
“I can’t believe you have a pet skunk.”
“Many people have a pet skunk.” I scratch behind Cooper’s ears. “He’s like a cat.”
“I prefer what my sister called him.”
“You mean a scented bunny?” I hold my hands to his ears so he won’t hear me repeat that blasphemy.
“Yep, that’s the one.” His feet thud over the carpet as he marches toward the window that he pries open with a crowbar, no less.
I settle back on the bed, content to watch him, and wait for my aspirin to kick in before I go hunting for coffee. “What are you doing there?” Even Cooper looks at him with a cocked head, his little tail vibrating in interest. I know that will look like a threat to Arlo, so I pat the bed, drawing him closer.
“I told you, I’m making it up to him,” he rumbles as he wedges a two by two in the window. “This window needs to be replaced.”
“Looks like it.”
“It’s so old, all these windows need to be replaced.” He rummages in his tool belt, and I admit, I sigh a little at the sight.
It’s like my personal commercial ad for the working man. Now just to let the audience know, this is just my preference for a man. I know they come in all shapes and sizes, but Arlo? Yeah, the universe designed him specifically for me, with that red flannel armor and those jeans full of holes. Oh, I know they were perfect when he bought them, holeless and pristine, but I prefer them this way, giving me brief glimpses of those thighs under the material.
“Do you want me to dance?” he questions, drawing me to the present and away from his thighs.
“Will it cost me extra?”
