I just hadn’t been all that motivated to get her done until now. I found myself wanting my place to be something I could be proud of, and that had everything to do with Presley. We’d been spending more and more time together, and we were slowly slipping into a routine that felt right in ways I never imagined.
I glanced over to the living room and spotted her sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Tallie. They were going through the various stacks of paint swatches, tile samples, and what looked like three different notebooks between them.
She wanted me to have options, and by God, there were plenty of them.
Hell, I’d never seen so many different shades of blue, and there were entirely too many options for flooring. It was ridiculous. Wood is wood. Blue was blue. But Presley’s eyes lit up any time she came across something she thought I might like.
What she didn’t know was I was more concerned about what she liked.
She was busy talking to Tallie, and she had that little crease between her brows, the one she got whenever she was really mulling things over. Unaware I was watching, she gestured toward the kitchen like she was planning a hostile takeover. “If he stays with the dark counters, the cabinets need to be lighter, or it will feel like a cave in there.”
“Caves can be nice,” Seven shouted back. “Dark and homey.”
“Caves are for bats,” Presley piped back.
Tallie snorted, and I felt my mouth pull into a grin. She wasn’t moving in. At least, not yet. We’d talked about it and decided to stick to the plan. We would take it slow and keep it honest. No rushing. No pretending that completing my remodel meant something it didn’t.
But watching her sit there, talking about colors and layouts like she had a stake in it did something to me. Memphis inched over to me and leaned in close as he asked, “You really going to let her redesign the whole house?”
“She’s not redesigning it.”
“Yeah, yeah. You can say that all you want. We know what’s going on.”
The room filled with laughter, and I took that as my cue to make my way into the living room. Presley looked up at me with bright eyes and a smile. “How’s it going in there?”
“It’s going.”
“It’d be going a lot better if you were in here helping,” Skid complained from the kitchen.
“I’m coming. I just have to check in with the drill sergeant first.”
“Hey, now,” Presley fussed. “Don’t go putting your slacking off on me.”
She was teasing, but I caught the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. She was checking herself, wondering if she was overstepping. I didn’t want her second-guessing, so I crouched down in front of her and smiled. “Not slacking. Just making sure you two are good in here.”
“I think so.” Her eyes dropped down to the swatches as she muttered, “I just don’t want you to think I’m trying to take over. This is your place, and you have to tell me when you don’t like something.”
“Yeah, I know, and I will.”
“You promise?”
“Absolutely. Just do your best to keep me out of debt.”
The words had just left my mouth when there was a crash loud enough to rattle the windows. “Too late.”
“Damnit.” I stood and started back into the kitchen. “What did you do now?”
“It’s fine,” Seven answered. “We’re just giving the place a little character.”
“A hole in the floor is not what I consider character, brother.”
Presley and Tallie laughed, and I couldn’t help but join in, too. And as I stood there in that room with my brothers and her, I felt complete in a way I never had before.
I wasn’t stupid.
I knew Presley had a big part to play in that.
We got back to work, and I was just about to take the stove and toss it on the back porch when Presley and Tallie came in the kitchen. “We’re going to the paint store. Do you guys need anything?”
