Come to Me Softly (Closer to You #2)(44)
Author: A.L. Jackson

Couldn’t help it, and there was no chance I could stop it.

These two were the only things I did worry about.

Obviously Aly caught my thoughts, and she huffed out a little breath. “You’re kind of ridiculous, Jared.”

I cocked my head. “And you’re kind of stubborn.”

From the other side of the room, Christopher laughed, all raucous and like the ass**le he was.

Fucker was a disaster, paint all over his shirt and splattered in his hair. A river of it coated his pant leg where he’d spilled the can. The drips that hadn’t clung to his clothes dotted the cement floor.

Thank God the new carpet didn’t go in until tomorrow.

Christopher dunked his roller into the tray, sloshing paint over the side. “I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with you, little sister. You have a perfectly good excuse to cop out on all this work, and here you are, making arguments to be a part of it.”

Aly pointed her roller at him. “That’s because I’m not a lazy-ass like you.”

Wounded, Christopher smacked his hand over his heart. “Are you really calling me lazy when I got up at the butt crack of dawn on a Saturday to come and help turn this dump into something halfway decent?”

“And it had nothing to do with me bribing you with free beer?” I asked, teasing, unable to stop from jumping in with my girl.

“Oh, I’d make bets that has a whole lot to do with it.” Megan didn’t even look over her shoulder, just kept her body rocking with the motion of her roller.

“Fuck you, guys,” Christopher said, laughing under his breath. “This was one hundred percent out of the goodness of my giving heart. This shithole would be nothing without all my selfless efforts. But since we’re talking about beer . . .” He dropped his roller to the tray. Kicking off his paint-laden shoes, he headed toward the kitchen in his socks, dodging droplets of wet paint.

I laughed, outright and loud, and Aly giggled, watching her brother with all that affection pouring from her, that goodness radiating from her as she looked around the room that was taking shape, this slow transformation turning this shack into a home.

When I first brought Aly over to see the little house, my nerves had wound me tight. I had wanted her to see what I saw when I first walked through the door, the pure potential that lay in wait.

I had seen a home.

Dread had struck me hard when I first pulled up in front of it with her and realized she might not. I couldn’t stomach the idea of letting her down. All I wanted was to provide for her and the baby. To give them something good when I didn’t have all that much to offer.

But I should have known better, should have known she would see what was buried beneath the rubble. And I thought maybe Aly had seen even more than I had. Deeper, further and farther into the future, imagining the things that were still so hard for me to see.

Hope. It’d shown prominently in her eyes.

She’d been the only one who’d ever been able to give that to me.

Now the place was hardly recognizable.

My crew had worked their asses off the past two weeks, heading over in between jobs, tearing shit out and installing new. We hit the kitchen first, knocking out all the old cupboards and countertops while we waited for the new ones to be delivered.

Aly had picked out almost black wooden cabinets. And damn, if my girl didn’t have good taste, a natural eye for beauty, for flow and continuity.

I had been right about the mis-cut granite. It had fit perfectly and looked even better. Pair that with the brand-new appliances and the kitchen had turned into some kind of gourmet’s retreat or some shit.

Aly had actually cried when she saw it. She blamed it on hormones, but I knew her better than that. She was just f**king thankful and overwhelmed by the drastic change in everything.

Slowly everything had begun to come together. There was still a lot of stuff to do. The carpet was being installed tomorrow, thank God. The huge task of laying tile in the kitchen and bathrooms awaited me. But mostly I was itching to sink my fingers into the finishing details, things that would make the home unique, adding the depth and character and beauty it’d lacked when we started.

But other than that?

Pride simmered around the edges of my consciousness as I took a glance around the little house that was becoming our home.

Yeah. The place was turning out better than I ever could have imagined.

We hadn’t really meant to, but Aly and I had moved in. I’d been here working so late every night that one night a week ago, Aly had shown up with an air mattress. She pumped it up in our bedroom and we’d slept on it ever since. She said she couldn’t stand falling asleep without me, couldn’t take one more night of me crawling into bed with her not long before dawn, exhausted after I’d spent hours getting this house ready for my family.

I didn’t even try to dispute it. I’d missed her like crazy, all those nights here alone, without her. Still, I’d been all too happy to sacrifice that time, knowing what I was working toward.

Turned out I’d just accomplished getting Aly into the new house a little earlier than I anticipated.

Christopher ducked his head into the brand-new fridge.

“Bring me one of those,” Megan called, ticking up the music a little louder.

“Grab one for me, too.” I knelt down and saturated my roller.

“What do I look like, a f**king maid?” Glass clanked as he dug around, pulling out three beers.

“What you look like is a f**king disaster,” I tossed back, laughing under my breath.

“Ha! Have you looked at yourself, lately? Pretty sure you have zero room to talk, my friend. I don’t know how my sister can even stand looking at you.”

“Oh, I have no problem looking at him.” Aly’s voice was all tease, dripping with innuendo.

Somewhere along the way, making her brother uncomfortable had become Aly’s favorite game.

“So gross,” Christopher muttered. But he was all grins when he sauntered back into the family room. He divvied out the beers before he slid down to the floor, leaning against the front door. He twisted the cap, drained half his beer while he surveyed the room. “Not half bad,” he said in slow appreciation, turning to meet my eye, like maybe he got just how much fixing up this place meant to me.

I looked around the room.

No, not half bad at all.

• • •

Two hours later, Aly and I walked Megan and Christopher to the door.

Christopher clapped me on the shoulder. “Take care, man. I’ll come by tomorrow after class and help you get the furniture moved in.”