Sienna joins me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “I told Graham I’m not coming back. Not for good, anyway.”
“Not for good?”
“I have to go back and visit them,” she laughs. “And they’d like to meet you.” The toe of her shoe kicks at a clod of dirt, breaking it apart. “Graham is going to free up some of my money so I can try to grow my business. I know a few people who have fashion lines coming out next year and I’ve been offered to submit some designs for them. There’s more to it than just sketching pretty dresses and I need money for that. Graham seems to think I can do it, which is nice.”
“That’s great,” I say, kissing her forehead. “And of course you can do it.”
“It’s exciting. There’s just one problem.”
Looking down at her, I take in her pinched nose. “What?”
“I don’t have anywhere to live. My lease is up next week and I’m kind of homeless.”
“Well,” I say, untangling her arms and taking her hand, “I might have an extra part of a bed.”
I guide her across the field, butterflies scattering as we pass.
“Part of a bed?” she asks.
“Yeah, you’ll have to sleep with me,” I tease. “Hope you can handle that.”
“What’s all this?” She points to the wood freshly bundled and marked with red flags so other driver’s didn’t run into it last night when Peck hauled it home for me.
“Wood.”
“No shit,” she laughs. “What’s it for?”
“Come on.” I tug her towards the trees. We step inside the little forest and follow a little path a few yards in. Then we stop.
I turn to watch her expression change as she realizes just what it is.
“Walker?”
“I just started on it this morning,” I tell her, my chest tightening. This was a risky idea, one I wasn’t sure she’d love, but I find myself rambling away while she decides what she thinks. “There will be a trap door like the one at Nana’s, but only two windows so you can hang stuff up and have some privacy on the other two sid—”
She silences me with a kiss. It’s her in control this time as she moves her mouth against mine, backing me up to the tree that will house her new treehouse.
“And I got you purple curtains,” I mutter against her lips.
She giggles, pulling away. “Walker Gibson, I love you.”
“It’s a good thing. Because I’m so fucking in love with you.”
A month later
“ANYONE WANT PIE?” NANA tosses her napkin onto the table next to her glass of tea. “I made chocolate, pecan, and coconut.”
“Coconut,” says Peck.
“Chocolate,” Machlan chimes in, shoving the last piece of meatloaf into his mouth.
Lance doesn’t bother to look up from his phone. “Chocolate.”
“Are your legs broken?” I ask from my perch on Walker’s knee. “At least get your butts up and bring the pies in here for her to cut.” I’m cinched closer to my man, his arms locked at my belly as the Gibson boys look at me like I just asked them to scale Mount Everest. “Did I stutter?”
“You go get them,” Lance chirps. “I’m busy.”
“Busy doing what?” Walker leans forward, taking me with him, as he tries to snatch Lance’s phone from his hand. “Whatcha doing there, bud?”
The grin on Lance’s face says it all. “Nothing I’m going to describe as we sit at our grandmother’s familial table.”
“Good boy,” Nana laughs, resting back in her chair. “But Sienna is right. You boys bring the pie in and I’ll cut it.”
“We had a good thing going until you showed up,” Machlan teases, sending a wink my way.
They get to their feet and traipse into the kitchen. I nestle back into Walker’s chest again, closing my eyes as the sunlight warms my face and his heartbeat warms my soul. The only imperfect thing about today is the little splinter in my pointer finger from helping with the treehouse last night.
I never thought, in a million years, that I would feel as comfortable with another family as I do my own. But I do. This crazy, foul-mouthed, not quite politically correct gaggle of boys and their Nana have changed my entire world.
Walker’s home is becoming mine as we paint the walls, strip the cabinets, and replace flooring. The only argument we really have is that I want to just pay for it all to be done now and he wants to wait and get it done as he can afford it. It drives me insane, but I respect it. He’s frugal, not so different than my brother Graham, really, except Walker is this way because he has to be. Graham watches the bottom line because he doesn’t want to ever have to worry about watching it. The two of them bonded over talk of savings accounts interest rates the other day.
The sound of a plate breaking in the kitchen is enough to get Nana to her feet. “Should’ve just done it myself.”