And then all the lights come on.
43
RYDER
Evie blinks as we’re blinded by the string lights that come to life overhead. There are numerous strands woven between the cabin and a few haphazardly planted fence posts, as well as the few trees on this side of the cabin. And they arebright.
PerhapsI overdid it a little bit, but in all fairness, nothing tonight has gone to plan.
In the best way possible.
She came from the wrong direction so I had no time to mentally prepare and nearly took her out by chucking my phone alarmingly close to her head. I had planned to start the generator long before asking what she wants her future house to look like because I laid out an entire damn blueprint in front of us. I wanted to tell her I loved herafterthe tour, while I pour her a glass of wine and we sit on that damn log that nearly killed me getting it in place and look out over Evie’s sunflower fields.
But this way is okay too. Evie is happy, and that’s exactly why I'm doing all this.
Her eyes are wide as I cross the lawn to take her hand and help her down. Her eyes rove around the ground, taking in the various smaller logs and branches that I’ve laid out to match the first draft the architect sent me of our house.
“Whatisall this?” she asks, following the grid of logs.
I pull her along, crossing over the first one. “This is the kitchen. Also a stellar view of the sunflower fields,” I say, picking up a plate off the ground that I used to mark the area. “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed this, but I was in a bit of a time crunch for making this all happen.”
She snorts, taking the plate from me. “This one can be your plate.”
“Deal,” I say, tugging her along to the next squared off area.
“Bathroom, I take it, if that hand towel is any indication?”
“You learn quick.”
“I do happen to know where I keep most things in my house, so it’s a pretty easy puzzle to solve.”
“Well, remind me to use things not from your house next time we do this.”
She laughs. “Next time? What next time?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe you’ll want a new house in the future and of course, this little layout is now a tradition so I’ll have to do it again for the next one.”
She beams at me, and I tuck her under my shoulder. “I like this tradition,” she says, turning her head so she can kiss my collarbone.
“Me too,” I say, hugging her close.
Her hand in mine, I lead her through each of the rooms of our future home. A mud room, family room, kitchen, garage, workshop, two offices.
When she notices the total lack of bedrooms, I lead her along the side of the cabin where I’ve laid out the second floor and point out each one, along with the bathrooms and closets.
And when she gets to the master bath, she turns to me, her eyes narrowed. “How did you know exactly what I was going to ask for?”
“You told me you moved heaven and earth to get that clawfoot tub into the barn. I’m not about to assume that’snota necessity.”
She grins at me, squeezing me lightly. “I can’t wait to see it.” She holds up one hand as we head back toward the front of the cabin. “Though I do have some changes to the final floor plan I’d like to make.”
I kiss her head. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
I lead her to where I spread an old tablecloth from her linen closet over a tree stump, and promptly pour her a glass of wine from the chilled bottle resting there.
We cheers, take a sip, and I can’t resist tugging her under my arm again because she finally feels likemine.
At first I thought my hesitation about telling her how I truly felt was some lingering fear based on the way I grew up.
