“Whatever you want, Trouble,” he says as he reaches over and twirls the end of my braid around his fingers.
“Fair warning, you may regret saying that.”
Grabbing the TV remote from the shelf beside the couch, I bring up the streaming service and scroll to find the show I was talking about.
“Do you enjoy living here?” he asks, shifting in his spot to look at me.
Pausing, I glance at him. “In Emerley?”
“No, in your Airstream.”
“Yes and no.”
“What are your favourite things?” he prompts me with a soft smile.
After thinking for a moment, I say, “I’m proud that it’s completely mine. With some help, I tore it apart and made it what it is now. Nobody questioned or judged my colour choices, the fabric I used, or how girly I made it.”
“It’s very cozy and inviting. That’s one of the first things I noticed the first time I was here. You did an amazing job.”
My heart swells with pride at his compliment. My parents would be appalled that I live here. Braden would hate everything about it.
“So, what do you wish was different?” he asks, watching me intently like my response is the most important thing in the world.
Without any hesitation, I answer, “The bathroom. I would love to have a shower large enough to turn around without bumping the sides. That night at the hotel was the first time I’vetruly enjoyed a shower in months. I would positively die to soak in a bathtub right now.”
He’s silent for a moment before saying, “I can make that happen.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you think you’re feeling well enough to come to my place? I have a soaker tub that doesn’t get much use that I think you’d enjoy. We can either stay there to watch your documentary or come back here. It’s up to you. What do you say?”
“Seriously?”
“Sure, why not? You said you would like to take a bath, and I have a bathtub right up the road. Unless that makes you uncomfortable, of course.”
“Are you kidding? That is an offer I can’t pass up.”
“Great.” He dips his chin and stands. “Pack a bag with a change of clothes and whatever else you think you’ll need,” he says, pulling me to my feet, “and then we will head out.”
“You don’t have to convince me. Let’s go.”
Nineteen
The drive from Beck’s Airstream to my house on Crystal Lake is short. She had been chatting about music ever since she got into the truck but fell completely silent when I pulled to a stop in the driveway in front of my house. Glancing over, I see her eyes have widened and her lips are parted.
“What?” I ask, looking from her to the house and back again.
“This is where you live?” Her words rush out as she stares out the windshield at my two-story log home.
“Yes,” I say slowly, trying to see what she does.
“Oh my God. It’s so beautiful,” she gushes as she opens the door and hops out.
After grabbing her bag from the back seat, I meet her in front of the truck.
“Thank you. I fell in love with it the first time I saw it.”
Before this place, I was renting a small house in the village. It was comfortable and close to work, but it never felt like mine. Then, this house hit the market. My real estate agent called and told me she had found exactly what I wanted. I was skeptical, but the moment I saw it, I knew. It reminds me of my grandfather’shouse and the comforting feeling of being there with him. Thirty days later, I took possession.
