I ask. She seems nervous.
“Could I maybe just...use this room? Move my stuff up here? Then I wouldn’t have to take over your bed anymore and you could have the master bedroom back.”
I consider asking if she’d be more comfortable downstairs, where she’s been, but I don’t because I already know the answer. Her eyes are twinkling.
“Consider it done. If you think you’ll be more comfortable up here, then it’s where you belong.”
A weird second of doubt flicks through me.
Hell, I should be happy she’s moving out of my room, giving up my bed, but somehow, I’m just not feeling a reason to smile. It’s like a mad, screwed up part of me wants to keep her there, when I’ve got no damn right.
It’s too late, anyway.
She practically skips across the room, jumps up, and then throws her arms around my neck just like she did the other day while we were swimming. Except now, my hands grab her around the waist and wind around her hips, holding her up.
“Thank you!” she sputters. “It’s such a small thing, but it’s a shiny new room for my new brain. I guess I just...I’d feel more at home in a place where no one’s ever lived.”
“It’s fine. I’m here to help, and this home is yours too as long as you’re here.” Let’s be real. I hate the idea of her not being here.
My hands seem to know it better than any other part of me, sauntering lower, softly cupping her ass. The moment they do, it’s just like in the water, this electric charge between us.
Heat. Lust. Obsession.
No fucking chill whatsoever.
Val’s eyes widen, lock with mine, and there’s this full second where we both go breathless.
“Dad? Valerie?”
She gasps softly and releases my neck, stepping back.
“Up here!” I shout back to Bryce.
She spins around and walks over to the bench.
The thud of my son’s footsteps stop abruptly at the doorway.
“Whoa! Now I get why it took days to get it right. This looks awesome!” Bryce says, an excited laugh falling out of him. Spinning around, he shoots down the hall. “Gotta see the other room!”
She gives me an easy smile.
“See? Now you’ve got the approval from the real judge,” I tell her. “Bryce is a terrible liar when he hates something.”
“I’m glad. I feel like I’ve wanted to design a room like this for years,” she says quietly.
“Cross it off your bucket list, babe. It’s done,” I say.
Bryce darts back in the room a second later, talking a hundred miles per hour about how much he loves the new décor. He approves of sharing the upstairs bathroom after hearing she’s moving into this room.
We unwind in the sun that evening, then hit a gelato and smoothie place down the street for coconut-loaded everything. Val has an extra skip in her step that night as she heads off to her new room.
It’s harder than it should be to have my own bed back.
I spend a long night on the mattress, drunk and frustrated every time I smell her scent on the sheets, this soft fragrance like orchids and citrus that’s absolutely Val.
Fuck. I should be happy sprawling out on the cool sheets, especially considering how the leather sofa just brought nightmares.
But it’s no relief.
Instead, I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind every second she’s not lying next to me.
Decorating those rooms leaves a wild spark in her.
Over the next two days, she continues working her magic. With my okay, she moves things around in all of the rooms downstairs, redecorates using what I already had on hand, but somehow makes each area look more homey and less like a sleek cave for two men.
That’s what my mother called it. Cave, sweet home. Nice, but sterile.
As if thinking about Ma makes her reappear, Bryce hollers out to me while I’m outside. “Hey, Dad! Grandma’s here.”
Shit!
I look at Val, who’s busy clipping wilted flowers off the hibiscus bushes while I trim the grass. She’s even spruced things up out here, making it look brighter, more alive.
My mind snaps back to attention.
“Coming!” I shout at Bryce through the door.
“Your mother, huh? What’s she going to think of me staying here?” Val asks quietly. “Do you want me to say something?”
“Well, uh—” Double shit. I haven’t talked to my mother since she dropped Bryce off and left for Maui. “No, she just thinks we’re...”
Yeah. My brain must be up my ass. I can’t form words, much less lies.
Valerie’s eyes swell, big and gold and worried. “Oh,