“You’re radiating frantic energy right now.”
“You have your championship, and I have my projects.”
“Home renovation your thing?” He popped the trunk, and we each grabbed a box. He put the code in the garage pad, and the door opened. The smell of gasoline and grass filled the air.
“No, but I get excited about ideas and things. Daniella always said I was like a puppy with new assignments. They distract me for a white-hot minute, then I move onto something else.”
He paused, a deep wrinkle in his forehead. Then he shook his head and jutted his chin toward the door. “After you.”
Charlie’s house smelled like a home. Evergreen candles and coffee. I would never stereotype anyone, but I’d pictured his place as a bachelor pad. Cigarette trays. A beer sign. This was homey and nice and oh shit.
So many wooden corners. The table, the TV stand, the counter. Were four-year-olds able to navigate that? I wasn’t sure. The wooden figures that looked carved would be a problem though. She’d dive right for those. Unless she had her own space.
“We need a Lizzie area, or she’ll go into his stuff.” I nodded, already forming what it’d look like. An arts and crafts table, a little cabinet of fun supplies. A box of toys. “Right there.”
There was a spot between the TV and the front wall where we could easily move a fake tree and make it her space. Again, would never have guessed Charlie had a fake tree in his place. I loved it.
“I’ll trust your judgement.”
“As you should.” I winked at him, quickly looking away so I didn’t admire how his eyes lit up. I was a great winker. Did it all the time to people. But with him, it felt flirty. Dirty, even. It made me feel adventurous, like I was living my own romance heroine life. If I wasn’t careful, I’d start daydreaming again, and my thoughts would definitely take a filthy spin. I cleared my throat. “Okay, where’s her room? Do you know?”
“Upstairs, guest room. We might have to move stuff out.”
“Glad I brought these guns.” I flexed, earning a wicked Cal smile. Ugh, I loved it. It was probably for the best he didn’t grin all the time or I’d get nothing done and stare at him. The beautiful bastard. It made no sense to be drawn to him becausehe was so damn grumpy, but somehow, that turned his smiles into gifts. Precious ones that very few people saw andugh.My heart did a weird pang again. I rubbed my chest, willing it to go away, and it listened to methistime.
We treaded upstairs, and he headed to the first door on the right. It creaked when I nudged it with my foot, and a twin bed with boxes upon boxes greeted us. A lonely lamp on a black table. A stack of suitcases. Oh no, this wouldn’t do.
Channeling the ladies ofThe Home Edit,I set my box down. “We need to edit and by that, get rid of.”
“Charlie might not want the lamp thrown out.”
“Fine, then the garage. This isn’t staying in a little girl’s room. That’s for sure.” I eyed the boxes on the bed and sighed. Definitely wouldn’t be doing this in a day. I was due at the bar in two hours, and I knew my mind would be here the whole time. “Before we bring anything more in the room, let’s figure out where to put this stuff.”
“Okay.”
There were books and magazines and glasses in the boxes. Fishing gear. Old sweatshirts? “Charlie can go through all of this, but let’s move it to the garage for now, and we can sort later. What time can you meet up tomorrow? Like six?”
“Am?”
“I want to dive into this and get dirty. Yes, six am.”
“Ah, well, I can miss a workout I guess.”
“Or, drop me off here and go do your hockey thing. Mama will be just fine alone.”
“You’re a little frightening right now.”
I flashed him a grin. “Thank you, Callie-Boy. Now get to work. I want to play tomorrow.”
We worked for an hour straight, moving all the stuff from here to the garage. We could buy containers to sort through it later. We left the twin bed, and that was it. No sheets. We neededfun ones for her. “Could you text Charlie to ask what she likes? Shows or books or characters? We could get a comforter set for her.”
“Sure.” He got his phone out and texted. “Will let you know when he responds. Hey, let me carry everything else up. I can handle it. You…plot. Get lost in your head for a bit.”
The soft tone and gentle look in his eyes told me he wasn’t poking fun at me. He meant it, and for some reason, that got me all warm inside. “Could be awhile for me.”
He reached his hand out and squeezed my wrist for two seconds. “Take your time.”
Damn.He left me alone in the guest room, sweating from a little touch. His rough thumb pad trailing over the sensitive area was like a taser of attraction. I took a calming breath and sat on the end of the bed. He told me the plot. So, I did.
