Georgie laughed. “You’re panicking now, aren’t you? It’s the one labeled keepsakes. I was fairly certain your darling husband wouldn’t care to touch that one.”
“You’re a brat.”
“You raised me.”
I softened at that, smiling. “Yeah, I sure did. And I’m damn proud of you.”
“Proud of you too, sis. All right, I gotta go, but I love you. I’ll book flights for your birthday. Take care until then, okay? You’re in a new place. Maybe it could be a new start. You know?”
That question was alluding to everything we’d never speak about out loud. Georgie didn’t know everything about myrelationship with Nathan, but I was certain he saw the pattern — the same one he’d witnessed with our mother before she passed.
He worried about me, even if he didn’t have any proof or reason to.
He could tell just because he knew me better than anyone.
“I love you, too,” I answered.
“Go to the beach,” my little brother ordered, and then the call ended, and I was alone with the boxes once more.
When The Fray began to play, I swore I could smell that hoodie he’d teased me about.
The front door opened an hour later, the faint jingle of keys landing in the ceramic bowl by the entryway. I froze mid-movement, book in hand, pulse ticking in my throat.
Shit.
I’d meant to switch to unpacking the kitchen before he got home, but time had gotten away from me. I’d been lost in my thoughts, in the music, in the faint joy each book I unpacked brought me.
I was going to pay for it now.
“Smells like a hard day’s work,” Nathan called, his voice bright and booming.
I forced a smile before I turned. “Hey, you’re home early.”
He strode in still in his suit, jacket open, tie loosened. His grin was wide, almost boyish, as he crossed the room and caught my face in both hands, kissing me soundly before I could react.
“Big day,” he said against my lips, breath hot with adrenaline. “You’re looking at the man who just talked ownership into a full-staff restructure — mid-season. Can you believe that? They never do that. But I did it. I finally get to bring in my people. The ones I can trust.”
“That’s… amazing,” I managed, still caught between the press of his hands and the pounding in my chest. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? To switch everything up when you just got here?”
Nathan stilled. “I think I know how to run a team, and that you should focus on unpacking and leave business to me. Hmm?”
He pulled back with the passive-aggressive comment, eyes scanning the room. His smile slipped. “Speaking of which, not much done in here, huh?”
My stomach dropped. “I was— I’ve been unpacking the books. I thought I’d—”
“The books.” He looked past me toward the kitchen before walking over to the island. “You haven’t even started on the kitchen? Ariana…” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I’ll get it all done after dinner,” I offered quickly. “I was thinking we could order in, anyway. Try a local place in our new home?”
Nathan was silent for a long moment, his fingertips drumming on the island countertop. He eyed the one box I had unpacked — filled with glassware — and then suddenly, his hand struck the counter with a crack that made me flinch. A mug toppled from the stack beside him, shattering across the tile.
For a long moment, all I could hear was Nickelback humming softly in the background, and my own heart pounding in my ears.
Then, like a switch flipping, his shoulders slumped. “God, look at me,” he muttered. “Making a mess when you’re trying to get things sorted.”
He stepped forward, reaching out, and I instinctively stepped back.
His brow knit, wounded. “Sweetheart. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to— you know I just get worked up. We can order in. That’s fine. The unpacking will get done. I’m sorry.”
