A far cry from the woman standing in Eddie’s kitchen, still wrecked from last night, and totally unapologetic about it.
Eddie pulls back, brushing a few errant strands from my face. “So, we’re doing this?”
“Damn straight we are.”
Another grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. “What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?”
“I don’t know. Spending it with you?”
Okay, that might have been too much, too soon.
Or… not too much at all.
He huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “That is such a good answer.”
“Two things.” I hold up my fingers. “First, I want my amazing breakfast and then I need a shower.”
His hands wrap around my hips, pulling me flush against him. “Can I join you?”
“Oh, yes, sir, you can absolutely join me, but only if you’re going to be an active participant in there.”
A sexy, borderline dangerous smirk crosses his face. “You don’t even know.”
Then he swings me over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and heads straight for the bedroom, shower and food long forgotten.
We have more important business to attend to, and it’s going to take all day.
Chapter 10
You Love Her
Eddie
Ionly knock once to announce my arrival before pushing the door open. “Hey, are you around?”
“In the greenhouse,” Deirdre calls.
I wind my way around the porch toward the back. I know every inch of this place. Hell, it was a wedding gift from her parents—an old farmhouse tucked next to pastureland. Gorgeous, but it needed a ton of work when we first got it. I was more than happy to dive into it, bringing it back to life piece by piece. There are a lot of wonderful memories tied to this house.
The irony is that the restoration lasted longer than our marriage.
But even though the marriage didn’t survive, our friendship did. People find it strange that Deirdre and I still get along, but to us, it makes perfect sense. We were friends first. There never seemed to be a good reason not to stay that way.
Rounding the corner, my gaze lands on the far section of the porch, where the rotted railing has finally given up the ghost and broken clean through. If only I’d mentioned that to Deirdre.
Oh, wait, I did. Repeatedly. But listening and follow-through have never been her strong suit.
With a sigh, I walk the length of the porch and step into the greenhouse. Most people use a greenhouse for plants, but Deirdre had a better idea. She crafted a personal hideaway, just steps from the back door, complete with an inflatable hot tub and picnic table.
Trust me, she hides in here plenty, and today is no exception.
She lifts her wineglass in a lazy salute when she sees me. “Howdy.”
“Hey. I saw the porch.”
She rolls her eyes and lets out a soft laugh. “Yeah, it happened a few days ago. I know, you told me it would, and I didn’t listen.”
“As usual,” I snort. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring my tools next week to fix it.”
