been mourning and figuring out who I was. I had noticed it all.
And now, he was mine.
I hadn’t told him what I was feeling because I still couldn’t process what I was going through. I was making it work.
Somehow, we were making it work.
“What’s this color again?” Brenna asked as she worked on the trim.
“Flannel gray. It doesn’t look too purple?” I asked.
“I don’t think so. It’s so hard to tell what grays are like, even with a patch test. The light hits it one way, and it turns blue or green or taupe or purple.”
“You just said this wasn’t purple,” I said with a laugh.
“Because it’s not.”
“Okay, whatever you say.” I moved.
“Hey, don’t get paint in your hair. After you’re done painting with Beckett today, you said you and he had a date.” She waggled her brows, and I laughed.
“Yes, a fun date.”
“I thought a fun date wouldn’t be out in public. I don’t really know what the two of you have going on.”
I looked at her then, and she smiled. I had once thought Brenna wanted Beckett in a way that went beyond friendship. I had been wrong. I hadn’t hurt her by falling for Beckett or being with him. If anything, it had made our relationship stronger because of their connection.
Something else was going on with Brenna. Something that made her a little hesitant to do certain things. It had nothing to do with Beckett or me. Hopefully, she would tell us one day. Until then, I would be her friend and do whatever she needed me to do.
I just hoped that she would tell us what was on her mind someday.
“Okay, that’s the last of this brush. I need to get the other one out.”
“We did sort of go a little rough on the brushes.”
“It’s the texture on the walls. They tend to do that. It’s a beautiful look.”
“Don’t comment on how the Montgomerys build their homes, considering they actually own this one.”
“True, but without the texture on the walls, the house would have lacked life, been too flat. It was a good choice. It just doesn’t like my paintbrush. Or maybe I’m being a little too rough.”
I gave her a look. “Something on your mind that you need to get out using a paintbrush?”
Brenna shook her head. “No. Everything’s fine.”
I gave her a look. “If you say so.”
She shook her head again. “Seriously. I’m good. Now, I’m going to get rid of this, and then I need to head out. Beckett will be here soon, right?”
“Yes. And then we can get the ceiling done, and then we’re going out for lunch. You’re coming too, right?” I asked.
“On your date?” She raised a brow. “Apparently, yes, I am.”
I laughed. “We’re just going down to Colton’s friend’s restaurant. Sitting out in the sun on the patio and enjoying ourselves. We told Paige we would.”
“Okay, I’ll be there. Are all of us going?”
“No, I think people are staggering their visits throughout the week, depending on their schedules.”
“Okay. I’ll be there later. Have fun.”
“I will.”
“And make sure you make Beckett do all the hard work.”
“Always.”
After I walked Brenna out, I cleaned up a few of the messes we had made and smiled as I heard the knock at the door. Beckett knew he was always welcome to just let himself in. After all, it was his sister’s home—my home. And he had a key. We liked our slight boundaries, whatever they were. I smiled at him as I opened the door.
“You look adorable. I didn’t know you owned overalls.”
I laughed and looked down at myself. “I look a little ridiculous. These are some of my paint-stained clothes.”
“With your work, I assumed most of your clothes would be paint-stained.”
“True, but these are my house-painting clothes. Sometimes, I unhook one of the straps and pretend I’m Tom Sawyer.”
“Meaning you get someone else to do the painting for you?”
“I have you here, don’t I?” I teased.
He laughed, leaned down, and kissed me. It was a deep one, no warm peck to say hello. I groaned, barely holding back a sigh.
“The bed was cold when you left it this morning.”
He smiled against my lips, his beard slightly rough in a way that sent shivers down my spine. “Well, somebody has to work. You were sleeping in lazily.”
I stretched. “It was comfortable. I wish you could have stayed.”
“You know you’re spending the night at my house, right?” he asked.
“Yes, because you promised me two dates today. Lunch and dinner.”
“And dessert, of course,” he said,