“Why must you always do things the hard way?” Lizzie’s mom asks, shaking her head. There’s no missing the humor dancing in her green eyes.
“Because they’re both boneheads,” Lizzie announces as we’re carefully placing the couch on the floor. As soon as I stand, our eyes meet and it’s like a jolt of electricity through the air, a lightning strike you don’t see or hear, but you sure as hell feel it.
“Lizard, we can take this couch back downstairs,” the bigger of the two brothers announces.
If it’s intended to be a threat, she’s not scared. Lizzie rolls her eyes. “I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t make it out of the living room with it,” she sasses, hands on her hips and with a little splatter of paint streaked across her cheek.
She looks beautiful.
“Boys, stop fucking around,” Walker states, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at his sons.
They both just gape at him. “What? Lizzie is name-calling and not at all appreciative of our free manual labor.”
The corner of my mouth ticks up.
Yep, definitely a lot like my family.
Their dad doesn’t reply. He just stares at them.
“Come on, Waylon. Let’s go downstairs where we’re appreciated for our muscles and ingenuity.”
When the boys walk past, they snatch a pizza box off the counter and dive in to what’s left inside.
“Sorry about that,” Lizzie says, walking over to where I stand. “And thanks for your help.”
“No problem. They seemed to be struggling a little, so I thought I’d help before the couch took a tumble down the stairs,” I tell her.
She shakes her head. “I told them the couch came apart.”
I take a quick look around at the apartment above the bar. I’ve never witnessed someone living up here.
“It still needs a lot of work,” she says, following my line of sight and looking around. “New carpet and floors are first on the list, and then I’ll have to update the bathroom.”
I nod. “I came up here two or three times, but it was always in the kitchen.”
“Want a quick tour?”
“Sure,” I reply, feeling oddly anxious to spend a few extra minutes with her.
“We did a deep clean this afternoon, but it still needs so much work,” she informs me, moving toward the hallway. I dutifully follow, eager to see the rest of the building.
She opens a closed door and steps inside. “I was going to make this into a second office, but my aunt Lyndee talked me out of it. My work should stay there, and even though I technically live there too, she recommended I use it for something personal. If I need to get paperwork done, it isn’t that far to go to the office.”
I nod, understanding where her aunt is coming from. “What will you use it for?”
She grins slightly and looks at the empty, dark space. It definitely needs an overhaul, but it does have some potential.“Besides a small guest bedroom for my sister, I’m going to use it as a small library,” she starts, opening her mouth and closing it fast.
“And…”
Lizzie shakes her head and glances away, a rosy hue tinting her cheeks. “It’s silly.”
“Doubtful,” I find myself saying, hoping she’ll tell me the rest of her thought.
“I, uh, like to sew. So, I’ll set up a small desk for my sewing machine, but I want to bring in a comfy chair too where I can do other stuff.”
“Like?”
She meets my gaze and states, “I enjoy counted cross-stitch and have been learning to crochet.”
