And I get a giddy feeling in my chest that this girl is repeatedly choosing me.
When we get inside, I find myself fascinated by the way she unzips her boots. The way she ties her hair up and throws her socks in the laundry basket by the door. The way her shoulders slump when she sits on the edge of her bed and I know in the way that she looks at me that she wants a smidge of help because she’s tired and just wants tosleep.
So I pull her dress up over her head and grab something for her to wear to bed from the drawer she directs me to.Once she’s dressed, I tuck her beneath the sheets and strip down to my underwear, climbing in bed next to her and pulling her tight to my chest. She turns toward me, pulling the sheets up over her shoulders as she buries her face in my neck.
There have been many times in my life where I’ve taken the opportunities I’ve been presented with based on logic, not feelings. I wrestled with taking over my dad’s business but did it anyway because it seemed like the right thing to do. I moved to Manhattan because that’s what every kid my age was doing when they got the chance and itmade senseconsidering my new responsibilities.
This… doesn’t necessarily make sense.
But when she sighs into my chest and curls into me, I’ve never been more sure that this is exactly where I need to be.
I wakein the early hours of the morning when there’s only a hint of dawn in the sky. Eve sleeps peacefully in front of me, her ass tucked into me like it was made to fit my body. I run my hand along her hip, delighted that I’m allowed to touch her like this now.
She stirs, turning to kiss my cheek before cuddling in close to me.
But I’m entirely too excited about her to fall back asleep. And she seems… very content with sleeping.
So instead, I push myself up against the headboard, making sure she’s still comfortable tucked into my side, and grab my phone.
In the hours between dawn and whatever hour it is that has the sun high in the sky and my stomach grumbling, Ischedule six local companies who specialize in historic building restoration. Three of which say they can handle a water wheel while the other three seem unsure what I was even talking about. I reply to every email Sana has sent me over the past few days that I marked as unread with the intention of replying later, and order a ridiculous breakfast to the house because I’m not certain Evie has any food to make.
When the knock at the door rouses her from her sleep, I throw my arms over my head to stretch as she mumbles about the farm being closed.
I push her toward the bathroom when she makes a beeline for the stairs. “I just ordered us breakfast. I’ll get it set up downstairs,” I tell her, leaving a kiss on her head.
“Oh, okay,” she mumbles, redirecting to the bathroom.
And the look on her face when she comes downstairs a few minutes later is absolutelyeverything. Her eyes go wide when she sees bacon—I make a mental note of that—and she pops a piece in her mouth. She does a little dance when she sees breakfast sausage and moans in pleasure when she bites into a buttered biscuit.
So apparently I have to pull out this kind of breakfast for her every day because Ilovethat she loves breakfast.
When she finally sits down and gathers a plate for herself, I push my phone across the table so she can see the schedule of quotes I set up.
“What’s all this?” she asks, clicking through the first link I added. “Is this… did you do this all this morning?”
I nod, happy that she seems pleasantly surprised. “Six different companies are coming to take a look. Normally I’d only pull in a couple, but I’m worried the water wheel is a bit toospecialtyto assume just anyone could take it on.”
She nods her enthusiastic agreement. “Yes, definitely.”
“So, two are coming today and the other four over the next three days,” I say, loading her plate with some eggs when I notice her eyeing them. “And that sets us up perfectly to take our favorite one to next week’s town council meeting.”
“Wow,” she says, taking a bite of her eggs. “You really did a lot this morning.”
I shrug. “I knew you’d wake up worried about it. Figured I’d nip it in the bud.”
She smiles, and a second later, her foot rubs along mine underneath the table. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, loading her up with more bacon. “But I haven’t even gotten to the best part.”
She raises an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“During the town council meeting, we’re going to go to dinner.”
“Is that the best part for you or me?”
I can’t help but grin. I love when she busts my balls.
“For you, obviously. Figured I’d throw you one.”
