Page 40 of Stuck with the Hero Next Door

I glanced at her, and a smile stretched across my face.

“They will,” I said. “This is just how they say welcome.”

She didn’t speak again until we pulled into the driveway. The cottage ahead caught the last gold light of the afternoon.

“You sure this is all going to fit?” she asked, climbing out and squinting at the mess.

I grinned. “Nope. But we’ll make it work.”

The back of the truck looked like a yard sale caught in a windstorm—boxes stacked half-crooked, a mop dangling like it was trying to escape, and a laundry basket full of cleaning supplies wedged under a rolled-up rug. Cassie stood next to it with her hands on her hips, surveying the chaos with narrowed eyes. Rolling her sleeves up, she hoisted a box labeled “KITCHEN?” and started toward the porch.

I chuckled, shifting the rug and a floor lamp to one arm to open the creaky screen door. “We’ll call that one a mystery box.” I nodded at the box she was wrestling with. “Adds excitement.”

Inside, the cottage still smelled faintly of dust and old cedar, but with the sun streaming through the windows and Cassie’s energy bouncing off the walls, it was already starting to feel less abandoned. She moved through the space in shock.

“Your mom and the yarn cult cleaned all this?” Cassie’s eyes were a little misty.

“Yep.” I balanced a box on my hip. “Where do you want this?” I asked, holding up a box marked “BOOKS.”

She paused, biting her lip. “Living room, I guess. I don’t even know where I’ll put a bookshelf.”

I set the box down gently, giving her a moment to look around. Her eyes scanned the room, pausing at the fireplace, the sunlit corners, and the worn floors that still had charm beneath the scuff marks.

“You know,” I said, “it doesn’t all have to be perfect today.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I just want it to feel like mine.”

“It will,” I said. “Give it time.”

We worked in near silence for the next hour. Every so often, she’d mutter something about missing dish towels or how she had a coffeemaker but no coffee, then jot it down on a receipt she pulled from her purse—a notepad taking first place on the list. I offered to make a hardware store run, but she waved me off. She wanted to pick out what she needed on her own. I got that.

As the last box landed with a thud on the kitchen floor, Cassie leaned back against the counter and blew a strand of hair from her face. “Okay,” she said, breathless but smiling. “This is officially real.”

I nodded, shifting my weight and tucking my hands into my back pockets. “Yep. No turning back now.”

I spotted the crooked cabinet door again, the one begging for a screwdriver and five quiet minutes. Grabbing the screwdriver from my back pocket, I headed straight for the cupboard. I’d already fixed the stuck window by scraping away a little paint. I filled the wood for the fireplace and de-winterized the house.

“You ready to head back to Janet’s? Grab your truck, maybe say a dramatic goodbye to that floral wallpaper?”

“Mmm.” She glanced at the light switch and flicked it. The bulb above us blinked on with a soft hum. “Well, would you look at that? We have electricity.”

“Everwood grapevine’s faster than Wi-Fi,” I said, stepping out onto the porch. “By now, the whole town knows you’ve moved in, and someone’s probably already baking you a welcome pie.”

She followed me to the truck, pausing at the bottom step. “So... would you like to join me for dinner, my first real meal in the house?” Her eyebrow lifted, half-smirk, half-question.

“I’d love to, but first, I need to stop off at the ranch and pick up a pair of pliers that didn’t make it back into the bag.”

“Does that mean I finally get to see where you live? Or are you some mysterious woodsman who survives entirely on campfires, beans, and moonlight?”

I rubbed the back of my neck, wincing slightly. “Yeah, about that.”

She gave me a look—amused but waiting.

“I don’t just live nearby. I’m right next door,” I admitted, nodding toward the break in the trees separating the two properties. “The raccoons I warned you about? I’m close enough to scare them off with a broom. Or a really stern look.”

Cassie blinked once, then tilted her head with a grin. “Let me get this straight—you moved me in without telling me you’d be my neighbor?”

“I didn’t want it to feel like... a setup,” I said. “The cottage was available. And perfect. I figured you’d want to decide for yourself.”