Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
We reach the top of the stairs, and I turn to him, my mouth dropping in surprise. “I wasn’t—”
“Yeah, you were.” His mouth is set in grim lines as he watches me. “We both know it, Wildfire.”
I swallow hard. Is that what I was doing? Maybe, without realizing it.
“Okay, there are four bedrooms up here,” he says, and starts pointing them out. “One bathroom for the three smaller bedrooms to share. The primary bedroom has an en suite.”
I follow him through, poking my head into all of the rooms.
“They’re pretty small,” I murmur quietly, taking it all in. It’s true, the bedrooms are small. “But they’d be fine for kids’ rooms. Or an office. What about your home gym?”
“I have a garage out back,” he says with a shrug. “And I usually go to the firehouse to work out anyway. Bridger has given all of us access to the gym there. I don’t need a room in the house for that. We could share an office here, since we both have offices at our businesses.”
I’m nodding, feeling excitement bubble up in my stomach as I start to see it all in my head.
“I want to see the primary.”
“Right this way.” He gestures to the open door, and I walk past him, soaking up his warmth. This bedroom is at least twice the size of the others on this floor.
“I suspect that a previous owner opened a wall to another smaller room to make this bigger,” he says, as if he can read my mind. He’s leaning on the doorjamb as I walk around. His arms are folded, showing off his incredible biceps. “My eyes are up here, Wildfire.”
I smirk, then chuckle as I look around. “I like it. I’d paint it something soft, like a yellow or green. Pretty curtains on the windows. A rug in the middle of the floor, after said floors get refinished. It would be really pretty.”
“The bathroom’s through there.” He points at another doorway, and I step over and then freeze.
The ceiling has caved in over the clawfoot tub.
“Water damage,” he says behind me, taking my shoulders in his hands. “The leak has been fixed, but the bathroom needs to be gutted.”
“I see that. Fucking water damage is the bane of my existence.”
He wraps his arms around me from behind and lowers his lips to my ear. “What do you think? You don’t have to know today. This house isn’t going anywhere.”
I bite my lip, afraid to hope and trust that this could be real.
But he’s right here, behind me, holding me tight, and it is real.
“I love the house across the street.” I turn and loop my arms around his middle. “It’s a great house.”
“You’re right. It is a great house.” He kisses my forehead. “What’s going on in that gorgeous brain of yours?”
I work my lip through my teeth as I ponder this. “I’ll be perfectly happy living across the street while we fix this one up. It’s so handy that we’re right there. And then, later, we can decide if we want to keep it and rent it out or sell it. But I think I want to keep it. Because I’m greedy as fuck, Brooks.”
His lips spread into a smile as he takes my face in his hands and lowers his lips to mine.
“This sounds like an excellent plan. And I love that you’re saying we so much. It sounds fucking amazing.”
“Yeah, I like it, too. And Brooks?”
“Yes, baby?”
“That kitchen is the first thing to go.”
Chapter Eighteen
BROOKS
Ihaven’t felt this light, this optimistic in … ever? Maybe not ever. Juliet knows everything now, all the secrets I’ve carried around all these years, and we’re working our way through it. Everything that happened in the house just about ripped my heart out, but we’re okay.
We’re going to renovate our house together, and I’ll make sure it’s exactly what she wants. Hell, she could turn it into a bed-and-breakfast, and I’d go along with it.
We left through the back door, so we could check out the three-car garage, a little vegetable garden that hasn’t been tended to in years, and a shed, and now we’re circling around the side of the house toward the street just as a car pulls into my driveway.
“Who’s visiting?” Jules asks, frowning.
“I believe that’s Dani.” I kiss her cheek as we cross the street, and Birdie comes bounding out of the back seat of the SUV.
“Hi, Uncle Brooks!” She runs to me and leaps into my arms. “We’re here.”
“I see that, peanut. Do you remember our friend Juliet?”
“When are you opening your restaurant back up?” Birdie asks Jules, who smiles softly at my little niece.
“As soon as possible. I miss it, too. The construction people tell me about two weeks.”
“That’s so far away,” Birdie says, acting like her life is over.