Two Family Home (17 page)

W
alker's front door opened as Lindsey climbed up the front porch steps.

“Oh, uh.”

She saw Jake Burdette start to back into the house. He, apparently, was stopped by Will Brakefield, who was right behind him, followed by Junk Store Josh.

“Hi, guys.” Great. Walker was having friends over. She should have friends over. Friends wouldn't mind if she wore sweatpants, would they?

“Hey, hi, Lindsey.” Will was acting awfully fidgety.

“Everything okay in there?”

“Yes! Everything is great, Lindsey!”

“Great. Why are you shouting, Jake?”

“No reason!” Jake shouted. “Gotta go!”

Then the three of them zoomed past her shoulder and were down the walkway and at their trucks before she could say “'Bye, weirdos.”

She shook her head—men were strange. Then she let herself into her apartment and headed straight for the sweatpants.

As usual, Booger had other ideas. Lindsey was surprised to see him inside her apartment. She figured if Walker was home, he would have commandeered the dog, like he usually did. God, he didn't even want her dog anymore.

Whatever they had, it was well and truly over.

“At least I've got you, buddy.” Booger tilted his head at her. “Yeah, I know. I don't make any sense to me, either.” She led him to the back door.

She was just going to let him out to do his business, but something in the yard caught her attention. Something big. Something . . .

It was Walker's tree. At least, she thought it was Walker's tree. She recognized the shape of the trunk and the movement of the branches. She had spent enough time looking at it while he was building it.

But something about it was not Walker's tree. It was . . . more.

She knew he was going to eventually cover the frame with something that looked like bark, but she had no idea it would look like this. Even the internet snooping she'd done when she first moved in had not prepared her for this.

The tree looked real. But at the same time, it was obvious that it was made of metal. The detail in the trunk and the . . . it had leaves now. Hundreds and hundreds of individual leaves attached to the branches. They moved with the wind and she thought they were made of paper or fabric, but as she got up close, she saw that they were all metal. Thin, detailed, individual leaves. No two were the same, and they seemed to be made out of different materials. How had he found time for that?

And the trunk. She had expected the trunk to look like, well, a dead tree trunk. She could see the detail in individual pieces of bark, solid and rough under her fingers. But he had draped something around the trunk that looked like a soft band of fabric. She ran her fingers over the band—it was smooth and cool. It ran around and around the tree until it blended up and became part of the branches.

She stood close to the trunk and looked up and just completely lost her breath. The sun shone through the leaves, catching the light and making it dance. It looked like what she imagined music would look like. When she'd seen the tree in progress, she was in awe, but this.
This is overwhelming,
she thought as she blinked back tears.
This is so much. This is Walker.

“Do you like it?”

She squeaked and quickly rubbed her eyes. Not quickly enough, because when she turned around, Walker was standing close enough to wipe the tears off her cheeks.

“Yeah.” She gave a watery laugh. “Yeah, I like it. God, Walker. It's amazing. I had no idea it would—” She flapped her hands uselessly. She had no idea it would anything. “How did you . . .” There were so many questions swirling around in her head that her tongue couldn't land on just one.

Walker helped her out. “The leaves are different kinds of scrap metal. So is this,” he said, running a hand over the fabric-like wrap.

“How did you get it out here?”

“Will and Jake. And Josh.”

“Ah. That explains why I ran into them at the door.”

“And that explains why Jake was shouting like a maniac.”

“Was this a surprise? For me?”

He nodded.

“What about the gallery?”

He shrugged. “The gallery will borrow it.”

“Walker, I can't let you do that. You need to sell this. Your dad took—”

“I've got it worked out. Don't worry.”

She looked back at the tree, taking it all in. “How are we going to get it back into the garage?”

“We're not.”

“It can't stay out here. It'll be ruined.”

“No, it's supposed to be outside. That's the idea I got from you.”

“From me?”

“Yeah. The leaves are all different kinds of metal. They're supposed to rust, and when they do, they'll change color.” He ran his fingers over one of the leaves and she could picture it dripping with red and gold and turquoise.

She smiled at the branches. “I always thought it could use a splash of color.”

“I'm hoping more for a riot of color. With the water and the air and the different ways things are layered, I don't really know how it's going to look.”

“A surprise.”

“A surprise,” he repeated.

He gently pushed her wrist toward the tree and guided her fingers to trace the folds of metal. He placed his hand over hers and walked her around the tree, guiding her over the roots. He stopped right before they made a full circle and she looked up at him, but he wasn't looking at her. She followed his gaze to back to the tree, where the fabric parted to reveal a patch of bark that looked like it had been carved. A heart, with the letters “WS loves LA.”

She let out a sob, or a laugh, or a sobby laugh. She had no idea what kind of sound she was making. It was the cheesiest thing she had ever seen, and the most beautiful. It was ridiculous, and it was perfect.

At least, she thought it was perfect.

“This means me, right? You and me?” she asked.

He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth, but he seemed to change his mind. He just smiled at her and nodded.

“You love me?”

He nodded again.

It was her turn for an eyebrow raise.

“You're gonna make me say it?” he asked.

“I'm not going to make you . . .” She shrugged, and started to turn away, but he caught her face in his hands.

“Lindsey Alford, I love you. I'm sorry for the crap I said when I was pissed at my father. I didn't mean it.”

“Yes, you did.”

He looked at her for a second, and she stood there, waiting.

“Yeah, I did. But only a little.”

“How, exactly, is this romantic?”

“I don't think you're naïve. That's not what I meant. I meant that I am a crabby bastard, and you force me to see the bright side of things.”

“And you don't always like it?”

“I can't promise I always will. I've been a crabby bastard for a long time. I'm used to it.”

She put her hand on his wrist and held on. “Good thing I like you, even when you're crabby.”

He rested his forehead on hers. “I need you, Lindsey.”

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. Her Walker. “Okay,” she said.
I need you, too,
she wanted to add, but then Walker had her around the waist and had his mouth on hers and she held on for dear life as he kissed and spun and kissed and nearly dropped her when he tripped over Booger.

“Okay,” she said, once her feet were on the ground. “Okay, I got it.” She kissed him again, just to make sure. “I love you, too.”

“Let's never fight again.”

She snorted at him. “How about, let's always have great make-up sex.” She was getting more realistic, but she could still look on the bright side.

“Perfect,” he said softly, and he kissed her.

 

That was it. There it was. Booger sniffed and walked around in a circle and then in another circle and lay down with his head on the roots of the tree.

 

Just because English professor Grace Williams is a woman whose
“new” house is crumbling around her doesn't mean she needs an
arrogant, condescending man's help, even if he does look gorgeous
in faded jeans and a tool belt. What she needs is a working
bathroom, not a ridiculous crush.

 

Jake Burdette has no use for the university types who stumble around Willow Springs, with their noses in the air whenever they're not in a book. He may not be a scholar, but he's proud of the hard, honest work he does—even if he would appreciate a little more of it. He doesn't need Grace's pity, even if he does wish she wasn't so adorably sexy.

 

They're all wrong for each other. But Grace's troublesome house
seems to feel differently . . .

 

“Sexy and made me laugh!”
—Smexy Books

 

“A fast-paced read that provided just as many smiles from the
humor as it did sizzles from the romance.”
—The Book Divas Reads

 

 

 

 

 

 

Librarian Maureen O'Connell might have predicted she'd find
herself crying into the ice cream case at the supermarket after a bad
breakup—but she definitely never imagined that a guy hot enough
to melt the Rocky Road would flirt with her right there in the freezer
aisle. Only Gavin Fraser isn't a fantasy, he's a mouth-watering new
flavor . . .

 

When a freak snowstorm strands Maureen at Gavin's after just one
date, it's a perfect excuse for something a lot steamier than hot
chocolate in front of the fire. It's definitely lust. Can it also be love?

Sarah Title has worked as a barista, a secretary, a furniture painter, and once managed a team of giant walking beans. She currently leads a much more normal life as a librarian in West Virginia.
Kentucky Home
is her first novel. You can visit her at
www.sarahtitle.com
.