Built

It annoyed me all day until she sent me a text in the afternoon asking me if I minded coming to get Hyde after work instead of her dropping him off.

I replied that was fine and asked her if everything was all right.

She sent back a message saying everything was fine, she wanted me to come inside the house and take a look at something.

When I asked her what she wanted me to look at, she didn’t respond. Needless to say, her silence and my curiosity made me hurry my ass up and had me hustling to get through the bathroom teardown I was working on. The guys were happy to call it a day a few hours early, so I texted her that I was on my way over and asked her if I needed any tools for what she needed me to fix.

She sent back a smiley face and the reply:

Just one tool.

Care to elaborate?

You’ll see when you get here.

I parked my Jeep behind her fancier one and practically jogged up the front steps. I didn’t have to knock because she was already at the door and pulled it open as soon as I lifted my hand.

She reached out and grabbed the front of my flannel shirt and hauled me inside, and before I could ask her what in the hell was going on, she pushed me back against the front door she had just closed behind us.

It had been so long since I tasted her, had her lips on mine, that my brain short-circuited. Her hands curled around my neck and she stood up on her tiptoes so that she could press into me. I wrapped an arm low around her waist and hauled her closer. I felt her breasts flatten against my chest and her knee work between my legs so that it rubbed against the erection that was stretching my jeans to extreme limits. She sighed against my mouth and twisted her tongue around mine until I pulled back with a gasp.

“My kid is walking around here somewhere, so unless you want to help me explain to him what the hell is going on . . . or maybe you want to explain it to both of us . . . What the hell, Say?” I gave her a little squeeze and set her away from me. She pushed the long, multicolored layers at the front of her hair back and smiled up at me.

I noticed she had on a sweater that looked really soft and kind of fuzzy in a bright coral color. She also had on teal pants that looked like they were painted on. It was a riot of color and it all looked really good on her, especially with the dreamy little smile toying with her now puffy lips.

“I took Hyde to your sister’s house an hour ago, and Poppy is with Salem and Rowdy for the rest of the weekend.”

I leaned back against the door. “Why? What’s going on, Sayer?”

She reached out a hand and waited patiently until I put my much larger and rougher one in it.

“I want to show you the surprise I’ve been working on. Come with me.”

I was hesitant and curious in equal measure. I’d been dying to know what she was up to, but that kiss had thrown me off stride. I jerked to a stop as soon as we entered the living room.

Gone were the sterile walls with no life or color. In their place was a pretty mossy green that was covered with bright and lively artwork. The ugly couch was gone as well and replaced with an oversize sectional that looked inviting and perfect for curling up on. It didn’t look like the dentist’s office anymore. It looked like a home. It looked comfortable. It looked loved.

I didn’t say anything as she took me into her office, which was now a pale lilac. I looked at her and then at the space and then back at her again. “Is that a Buffy the Vampire Slayer poster behind your desk?” I couldn’t keep the humor and stunned shock out of my voice.

She laughed and pulled me toward the kitchen. “Team Spike forever.”

The kitchen hadn’t changed much; there was still the poppy-colored wall, but on the big blank wall there were black vinyl decals of giant poppies that gave the room more movement and warmth. She had been busy. Every room was a different color and decorated in a haphazard way. There was no order. There was no rhyme or reason to any of it and I could tell she loved it. She had gone out and found things she liked, things that spoke to her, and made the space her own.

One of the bigger spare rooms was painted in train conductor stripes and the door was covered in a million handprints. All small and going every which way. Obviously that had been my son’s contribution to the project. It was sweet and I wanted to ask her if she made room for my boy not only in her home but in her heart as well.

The last stop on the tour was her bedroom. Finally, I found the source of the blue paint that had been all over Hyde and in her hair a few weeks ago. The room had been transformed from a tranquil oasis to a Caribbean villa. It was the ocean and so much more. It was her eyes and her heart all tangled up and put on the walls.

“Blue is your favorite and you’re my favorite, so I wanted them in the same place.” I turned around to look at her, not sure what to say. She shifted on her feet and reached into her pocket and pulled out something. When she opened her hand I noticed it was a house key. I jerked my eyes back to hers and blew out a deep breath.

“Sayer . . .”

She stepped closer and grabbed my hand and put the key in it before curling my fingers around the metal object. I held it so tightly that the teeth bit painfully into my skin.

“You made this house, Zeb. You’re everywhere in it. I feel you in every room. You belong here just as much as I do.” She stepped closer to me and put a hand in the center of my chest. “You were the first man I ever kissed, do you know that?”

I grunted. “You were engaged, Sayer.”

She curled around my waist and leaned her head under my chin. I wanted to hold her, but my head was still spinning. “I know, but he kissed me. I never kissed him. I wanted to kiss you, Zeb. I wanted to have sex with you. I wanted to love you. I wanted to be with you just for me, not for anyone else. Not because it was right or wrong but because it felt inevitable. It felt important and right. I wanted to be with you because I felt it . . . still feel it . . . everywhere.”