Leo is sitting on one of the beams, nothing in his hands, nothing to show what he’s doing here, like a creep, like a dang sociopath. He deadpans, “You having fun stroking my wood?”
I gasp, jaw unhinged.
“Sorry,” he says, a hand covering his face. “I couldn’t help it. The innuendo was right there.”
Ignoring him, I whisper-yell, “What the heck are you doing? You scared me.”
“Sorry,” he says again, then shrugs. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came out here. Didn’t know you were out here, too.” He stands up on the beam and leaps from one to the next, jumping off the edge and landing next to me. “You been out running?” he asks, pointing a finger down my length.
Suddenly, I’m aware of how I look and what I’m not covering. I nod, cross my arms over my bare abdomen revealed by the short crop top. I’m grateful that it’s dark, that he can’t see the stretch marks on my hips and stomach.
“You shouldn’t be running on your own at night.”
“And you shouldn’t be worrying about me.” I don’t know why I’m so combative, and sure, I could tell him that there’s a treadmill in the barn, but that space is my solace. My secret.
Leo’s heavy breath lands on the top of my head, and I’m about to make an excuse to leave when he asks, “Which one do you like?” He’s pointing to the three different samples of railing.
“I don’t know,” I murmur, inconspicuously looking up at the attic window that’s not visible from where we stand. I want to be there. I long to be there.
“Well, your grandpa’s going to ask you to choose tomorrow. That’s why I have them all laid out.”
“He wants me to pick?”
“Yep.” His voice carries through the air, through my lungs, as if I breathe in the sound. Inhale it like oxygen.
“I’m not sure,” I say, turning and looking up at him. He’s focused on the railings; his profile lit only by the moonlight. His jaw’s square, nose narrow, eyes hidden behind the brim of his cap. After a beat, I add, “Which would you choose?”
“For me?” he says and points to the one on the left. “I’d choose that one.”
I look at the one he’s pointing at. It’s the most basic one of all. It’s nothing but square edges and symmetry. “It’s so plain,” I tell him.
“That’s why I said I’d choose it for me. For you, though”—he points to the one on the right, the most intricate of them all—“I’d choose that one.”
My breaths become shallow, my nerves shot, and even though I know I’ll regret asking, I do it anyway. “Why that one?”
He’s still focused on the railings when he answers, “It’s the most complicated one. But it’s by far the most beautiful. And even though it’ll take me a lot more work and a lot more time…” I’m already watching him when he faces me, his head tilted forward to meet my eyes. “It’ll be worth it, Mia. For you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Leo
“I’ll come home next weekend,” I say into the phone, while simultaneously filling a glass from the tap. I’d just come back from my run a little later than usual, and as soon as I entered the house, my phone rang. It was Laney.
“You said that last weekend,” she says.
It’s true, I did, but I didn’t feel much like going home, so I told her I had shit to do. To my dad, I told the truth: that I just wasn’t ready.
Laney sighs. “Lachlan will want you there.”
By there, she means watching his baseball game. He already has Lucas and Logan, plus our brother-in-law, Cameron, running the team and highly doubt he’ll notice I’m not there.
“Plus, I miss you,” she adds, and there it is. I’d say that my friendship with Laney is complicated, but it really isn’t. Growing up, she was close with both Lucas and me, though it was apparent she saw him in a different light. Their connection was unbreakable, and ours was… convenient. She’d come to me whenever she needed advice, mainly about Lucas, and I’d go to her because—truthfully—she kind of reminded me of my mom, which means that I hated disappointing her.
“I…” I trail off because Mia’s just appeared from the stairs, and she’s in another dress. This one’s white, with light blue vertical stripes, buttons down the middle. It goes past her knees, the sleeves to the elbows, and there’s nothing at all revealing about it, but on her, it’s intoxicating. I’d never