Just Sign Here - Cara Dee Page 0,55

the toilet lid and loosened my tie, doing flight math and considering time zones. He should have landed, and it was three hours earlier…meaning he’d likely go straight to his hometown two hours north of Seattle. Or would he stay in his apartment and head up to his mother and sister tomorrow? Either way, I was texting him.

We’re home, and we miss you already. By the way, why didn’t you tell me my dining room table looks awful? I’m buying a new one. Unless you take charge, I’m thinking…gold table with furry seats.

I grinned when I saw the moving dots appear on the screen right away.

His reply popped up shortly after.

Edward!

I miss you too. Both of you.

But seriously, I don’t know if you’re joking about the table, given your history…

I chuckled. He’d taken the bait quickly.

So, I texted him a list of demands and gave him a budget. Only he could fix this mess. I was useless in that department, evidently. Deciding a theme for a hotel was much easier.

I finished with a mild threat.

If you don’t comply, (and throw in rush delivery), I will buy a gold table. Moreover, I will paint the brick walls neon green.

His attempt to sass me earned him a raised brow.

Maybe I’ll deny you dickpics.

I snorted and sent Julia a quick glance. She was playing with her ponies.

Dickpics…

You’ll do no such thing. I advise you to choose your next words wisely, pet.

That worked, and his response made me smile.

I’ll obey, Daddy.

Good boy. You have my details, and I trust you know our address.

That “our” was on purpose. It looked good.

Two sleeps later, Julia and I found ourselves eating milk and cereal at the kitchen island while two men assembled our new dining room table.

“What do you think?” I asked Julia.

She eyed the men and the table critically. “Peyton picked it?”

I nodded.

I liked the table. It was wood—or “heavy oak,” as per the description. And it fit in with the building better. It was more natural.

“Then I like it.” Julia filled her mouth with Froot Loops, milk dribbling down her chin. “There are so many boxes.”

Indeed. Peyton had gone nuts and ordered significantly more than I thought was possible on that budget. From textiles—throw pillows and blankets—and picture frames to new chairs and a coffee table. The hallway was filled with stacked boxes and furniture.

I supposed when you didn’t order through an interior design agency, you could get more for the same amount of money.

I was spoiled at times. Clueless at others.

Peyton would have to help me with the rest. I just wanted the table and chairs in place for dinner tonight.

It took the two men about half an hour to assemble the table, and by then, Julia was on the couch in the living room watching Netflix. I tipped the gentlemen and thanked them before showing them out.

After arranging the six chairs around the table, I snapped a photo and sent the result to Peyton.

You are hereby in charge of everything that concerns furniture and what our home looks like. Hope you slept well. Miss you.

It was highly possible he was still asleep.

The older I became, the earlier I woke up in the morning. Peyton could snooze forever.

I didn’t have much to do today, so after I’d tidied up in the living room and dining room area and I’d stacked the old chairs in the hallway, I called my cousin to ask what I could bring for the picnic tomorrow.

“I assume you’ll get the same answer as the previous years,” Trent said. “Hold on. Charlotte! Do you want Ed to bring anything?”

I trailed into the kitchen and poured myself another cup of coffee, sans hazelnut syrup. I’d put on a couple pounds in the Caribbean, and now was not the time to let myself go.

“Yeah, you’re not bringing anything,” Trent told me. “Unless you’re bringing your new guy. He’s invited, of course.”

I smiled. “I appreciate that, but he’s on the West Coast for the holiday,” I replied. “I don’t think he’ll ask me to come save him on a white horse.”

Trent laughed. “You never know. The magic words usually come at night. You remember college, don’t you? Charlotte made me miss all the fucking classes.”

Classes, yes. Not the fucking part. I believed that was the one thing he didn’t neglect when Charlotte called him from New York and said she missed him. My cousin would fly out to his car and drive all the way down to see her.

My phone vibrated, and I glanced