Walker moves with me down on the ground.
“Aye,” I say as I peer over the edge. “Go do vineyard boss stuff. We got this. I’ll let you know when there’s an update.”
“You sure you guys don’t need help?” Walker asks.
Ford snorts. “Unless you know how to swing a hammer, no.”
Walker raises his hands in surrender. “Kitchen called me a few minutes, anyway. Let me know what you find.”
I find another loose shingle and peer beneath it. “You know I will. Go. We’ve got this, Walk.”
Finally, the man gives in and turns, heading back toward the main house of the vineyard. I watch after him for a little while, shaking my head with a snicker. He’s such a worrywart underneath all of that bluster.
I crouch down, sliding my fingers beneath the shingle to see if the wood beneath it is soft.
It’s not.
“We’ll have to replace all of the shingles up here,” I say as I turn toward Ford. “They’re practically baking off this top.”
Ford’s already looking at me, though.
“What?” I ask.
His face falls flat. “Don’t ‘what’ me. All day, you look like you’ve swallowed the sun.”
I blink. Ford always has a weird way of putting things. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb,” he says as he takes a hammer off his belt and pries up a wet shingle. “You’ve been grinning like a fool all damn day.”
“And?”
Ford peeks over at me. “Congratulations.”
“For what?”
He snickers as he rips up another shingle. “Your family. It’s clear you’ve found your pack. Congratulations, man.”
Family.
My family.
My throat tightens a little. “Thanks.”
I glance toward Walker’s villa that I can see clearly from the rooftop and I can’t help but let the memories and sounds of that place wash over me.
Lia, with her gasps and her groans. Eli, with that sly grin of his. Walker, in command of the place. I bet Amber would love running up and down the vineyard rows with Pickles in tow on the weekends.
My chest swells with pride at the thought of my family.
My pack.
“Now, get over here and let’s see about this roof,” Ford says as he claps his hands together, “because you’re right about these shingles. Whatever we do with this corner roof rot, all of the shingles need to come up.”
“And ventilation needs to be put in,” I say as I turn toward my boss.
An hour later, we’ve not only got the measurements we need, but we’ve also got our supply list of things we need to order. I leave everything with Walker, including our quote for the work, before Ford and I head back into town.
The sky is beginning to turn orange with the late afternoon sun, and I’m stoked that my day is finally over. I’ve been aching to check on my family and see how the little one’s feeling.
