Fragile Hearts (Poplar Falls #4) - Amber Kelly Page 0,52
stomps off to the door.
“I tried to warn you,” Walker yells after him.
We pack up and help Braxton get everything back into his truck.
“I’d leave this stuff here for you, but we need it over at Walk’s this week. I’ll bring it back next Sunday though to help you do the rest of the downstairs. If we have time, we’ll get to the second floor too,” Braxton says before shutting the tailgate.
“Can I pay you guys for your time?” I ask.
Braxton shakes his head. “No, pitching in is part of being neighbors and friends around here. I’m sure Sophie will want a studio or something eventually, and you can come to help me.”
“What about you, Walker? Need any help at your place this week?” I ask.
“I can always use an extra set of hands. We want to get that place done before Sophie bursts and Braxton is rendered useless for six weeks or longer,” he says.
“Then, I will be there after work tomorrow,” I tell him.
He claps me on the back. “Make it Tuesday or Wednesday, Doc. You’ll want to come here after work tomorrow to check out your new kitchen and enjoy it. The work will be there at my place all week long.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” I say. I thank them both again before they drive off.
I turn to look at the house. The white paint is chipping and peeling, and it needs a fresh coat, but I think I’m going to give it a bit of a face-lift and change it to a colonial blue with white trim and black shutters and doors. Still regal but more me.
It’s coming together nicely.
It’s becoming home.
Brandt
“Doc, are you in here?”
I’m upstairs, pulling up the carpet, when I hear her voice calling from below.
“Bellamy? I’m up here.”
The click of her boots on marble echoes in the hall as she climbs the steps.
She stops when she reaches the landing and watches me as I rip the last piece of carpet loose from the baseboard in the hallway leading to the spare rooms.
“The floors downstairs are gorgeous,” she says as she assesses the mess around me.
I stand in nothing but my jeans. I got hot up here and shed the shirt and boots about halfway through.
Her eyes travel from my shoulders, down my chest, and to my bare feet. Then, she looks around and turns toward the master bedroom.
I follow as she clicks on the light. A large California king-size bed stands against the far end of the room, and the wall between this room and the one beside it is gone. As is the one to the bath. She walks inside and spins.
“It feels so much larger in here already. Even with this monster of a bed.”
“The other furniture is in the bedroom down the hall until they get the closets framed in and the bath extended, but at least now, if I’m working here late and I’m too tired to drive back to the apartment, I have a place to crash.”
“Good thinking,” she approves.
“I didn’t know you were coming by,” I say as she sits on the end of the bed and bounces.
“Momma sent you some leftovers from supper. We thought you might have gotten too caught up on working to stop and eat anything today.”
She brings her eyes to mine.
“You look like you’re exhausted,” she observes.
I wipe the back of my neck with a towel I hung on the banister earlier.
“Just hot,” I complain. “The AC unit was installed, but they didn’t get the thermostat in, so it was a hundred degrees up here. I installed it myself about thirty minutes ago, but it’s going to take a while for it to catch up and get the house cooled down.”
She wrinkles her nose, and then her eyes start dancing as she says, “I have an idea.”
She leads me down to the back door.
“We can go for a swim to cool off,” she says as she kicks off her boots and starts for the woods.
I follow her toward the sound of the water.
Just as we make it into the tree line, the river comes into view. Water rushes down a wall of rocks and into a pool.
“I knew it. This is the cove we used to swim in all the time when we were kids. I thought it backed up to here,” she says.
She walks to the edge and toes the water.
“Perfect,” she breathes.
“It’s dirty,” is all I manage to choke out as I watch her reach up and remove