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“Would you rather I go out there? You look like you might trip in those boots.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine.”
He pulls the door open and I walk out. About three feet out the door, I biff it face-first into the snow. Strong arms pull me up and I come up sputtering.
“You were right about the boots,” I say, swiping snow off of my face and shivering.
“Let me help,” he says.
“Okay.”
He puts his arm around my waist and holds out his other hand, which I gladly take. Before I know it, we’re moving and my feet barely touch the ground. When we reach the door to Jolene, he opens it for me and my feet slide out of the boots before I step inside. I look back at him—he’s standing on the ground, hands on his hips waiting to see what I’m about to do next.
“Come on in,” I say.
He hesitates and undoes his boots, stepping into Jolene. The space shrinks with him inside, but he looks good in here. He glances around, quietly taking it in.
“What do you think?” I can’t resist asking.
“Classy,” he says without hesitation.
A grin takes over my face, and I pat the counter proudly. “Isn’t she? Jolene’s come a long way.”
“Jolene…”
“That’s her name.”
“Ah,” he mumbles.
His fingers brush over the woodwork and I get the strong sense that he approves.
“You live in this?” he asks.
“I think I do now. Long term, it was supposed to be my office, but looks like it’s going to be a lot more than that. Well, as long as it’s safe. Did it seem like there were any leaks or anything?”
“Not from what I could tell.”
“Thank goodness. I don’t mean this in the ungrateful way it sounds, but…I wish I’d gotten pictures of her in the snowbank.”
I’m sure I’ll need them for insurance, but also, all the TikTok followers who have been with me on Jolene’srenovating journey will want to see what she’s going through now.
“I took a couple with my phone.”
“No way!” I turn to him in surprise. “Brilliant! Thank you.”
He rolls his eyes. “It was nothing. They’re probably not any good. It was still dark out and it was lodged in a weird angle. The pictures helped me zoom in to see how to best get it out.”
I put my hand on his arm and squeeze. “You’re the best.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he stares at me and then looks away, his cheeks turning ruddy. I drop my hand and feel my own cheeks heat. I go to the closet and pull out a bag, stuffing it with a pair of jeans, leggings, a shirt and sweater, socks, underwear, and my boots. In the bathroom, I grab my cosmetic bag and toss in a few other necessities, and I add it to the bag.
When I walk back toward Callum, he’s looking at the books I have tucked into a basket.
“Do you like thrillers?” I ask.
He nods. “I do.”
“Take any of those you haven’t read. The one on top is a recent favorite.”
