Rosie
Tell me something else?
Will we ever be able to move on with anyone else?
I don’t know
Rosie
Goodnight Beck
Goodnight Rosie
But it’s not going to be a good night. Because after a text exchange like that, there’s no way sleep is happening tonight.
Milo beats me to the job site, which is unusual. I bring him a coffee from Seashell Bookshop as a peace offering. Not that I need it. Milo is habitually late. Or cuts out early. Must be nice to have your big brother as your boss. If he were any other employee, his ass would’ve been fired long ago.
I park my truck in front of the peach-colored cottage off Oceanview Blvd. A painting crew is already here doing finishing touches on the exterior trim around the windows. I hop out and retrieve the to-go cups, bumping the door closed with my hip.
Typically, working on a jobsite with another crew irritates the hell out of me, but Jessie and his guys work hard and stay out of my way, so I don’t mind. Jessie pokes his head out of the back of his van and flashes me a peace sign as I pass. I lift my chin in greeting as I make my way around the front of the cottage. The power saw screams, but it’s music to my ears. It means Milo is actually working instead of on his phone networking with music professionals.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m his biggest fan. But for now, this is the job that pays his bills. His time is coming though, talent like his shouldn’t be wasted on construction. Lucky for me, wood working and building houses are both my passion and my talent. I’ve been doing it since I was sixteen and started my own business sometime after Rosie left. My life was spinning out of control, but Jack came along with his nest egg from tradingstocks and loaned me the money to get started. If it weren’t for him, I probably never would’ve done it.
Milo is on the porch, cutting pieces for the island we’re building and adding to the existing kitchen. The cottage is small but with the L-shaped kitchen that opens to a dining room, it has adequate room for an island.
He finishes the cut and glances up at me. “Look who decided to show up for work. Please tell me you finally got laid.” He glances at me with a smirk, brows raised.
I shove the coffee at his chest. “Haha,” I say sarcastically. “I brought coffee.”
Clutching it in his hand, his eyes meet mine, but I tear mine away and face the ocean. “What happened to you? You look like shit.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” I groan and chug my coffee while attempting to focus on the distant waves despite the thick morning fog. “Didn’t sleep much.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Nope,” I grunt, turning back around. “I want to work.”
Milo shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee before setting it on the porch rail. “I just cut the last piece for the build-out.” He picks up the wood. “The quartz countertop slab got delivered a few minutes ago. I had them put it in the garage.”
I’m only half processing what Milo is saying. Rosie’s words are still swishing around in my brain, along with what I’m going to do about them. If anything.
“So last night Rosie told me she still loves me,” I blurt over the rim of my paper cup.
Milo freezes before he reaches the back door with the cut piece of wood in his grip. “So you do want to talk about it,” he snarks over his shoulder, a smirk on his lips.
“She was drunk texting me,” I continue, still not fazed by his words. Typically I’d call him out on his smart-assery.
But he groans and that rattles me.
“Let me get this straight. She told you she still loves you, over text, and while she was drunk?”
I tilt my head, giving a limp shrug. “Yeah.”
“How is it that you’re the married one but I’m the brother who has more experience with women?”
“Pfft.” I narrow my eyes at him.
“Right.” He drags out the word. “Don’t answer that. I get it, you’re married. But I mean, I hate to say it…”
