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Liam quirked a brow, silently agreeing with Brock’s concern.
Zach shrugged. “About as much as you know about living with an adult who cares for you, but I’m damn well going to try my best and not let anyone hurt you again. Besides, I could use help with work.”
“There are child labor laws.”
Zach laughed. “You’re of age to work, and I think once we hone your electrician skills, you’ll come in handy.”
For the first time since Zach first spotted Brock in the basement, Zach saw hope. No matter what, he planned to deliver on his promise to keep Brock safe. He hadn’t intended to keep the boy, but he’d damn well settled in with the idea the second he said it.
Chapter Nineteen
Sophie sanded in the bathroom around the vanity. The new layout was going to be gorgeous, especially if Zach opted for the paint color Chelsea had in her notes.
But paint, renovations, and Chelsea’s binders were the last thing on her mind. Zach, Liam, and Brock had been gone well over an hour. The sun was starting to set and she was getting worried. She knew they’d found Brock, Liam had texted her, but she was still worried. That poor boy. What all had he endured? He was tough, though. He’d get through this, and with help from the stubborn, hardheaded Monroe boys, Brock had no choice but to head in the right direction.
“As much as I love watching you work, I think you should go home and rest.”
Sophie glanced over her shoulder. Zach stood in the doorway with a smirk on his face. “I’m not tired,” she told him, laying the sandpaper down and turning to face him fully. She swiped her hands together, ridding herself of the drywall dust. “How’s Brock?”
“Right now? He’s okay. Overall?” Zach sighed and shook his head. “He’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Why do you want me to go?” she asked.
“I don’t want you to go. But Braxton is on his way and—”
“Ah, I see. Some testosterone-filled evening of working, burping, and farting? The male bonding ritual?”
Zach grinned. “Something like that.”
Knowing they needed some time
to get Brock used to them and hopefully earn more trust, Sophie nodded. “If you need anything at all, call me. Promise?”
“We’ll be fine.”
She knew he’d never call, but that was fine. Zach didn’t need a sitter and he didn’t need her hovering. Besides, she had work to do.
Once she said bye to the other guys, she headed home. A couple new listings had come through and she was hoping one of them would suit the doctor who was moving to town, because she was not about to show Zach’s house. He was keeping it.
Sophie found herself smiling hours later as she sat in her favorite floral chair, Flynn purring beside her as she sketched some of the rooms in the Sunset Lake house. These sketches were visions of what she thought the rooms once looked like in their grandest of times. Most likely the first-floor parlor had housed ladies with skirts swishing about as they had afternoon tea while the gentlemen in the study drank whiskey and discussed ways to end the war and solve the world’s problems.
She couldn’t wait to do the various exterior images with the old mossy oak trees, the porch stretching across the house. The entire property was absolutely breathtaking, and once word got out about the resort, women would come from all over the country for a relaxing getaway, whether alone or for a girls’ retreat. Sophie might even check in herself.
Her pencil slid easily over the paper as she shifted her bare feet beneath her, careful not to disrupt her sleeping feline. She added curtains to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the parlor. Sophie just knew they would’ve been made of thick velvet, probably in dark green or sapphire. A rich shade held back by gold tassels.
Once her parlor and study images were done, Sophie’s hand was cramping. She wanted to draw that grand staircase, but that would require a good amount of time and dedication. Yawning, she set her tablet on the coffee table, laid her pencil on top, and had just put her feet on the floor when her doorbell rang. The chime pulled Flynn from his sleep. He stretched back, then arched up on his paws before prancing from the room, as if he didn’t have time for visitors.
Sophie had lost track of time, but when she glanced at the antique clock on her small corner desk, she saw it was nearing ten. She wasn’t a bit surprised she’d been at it for nearly four hours.
At first glance through her etched-glass door, Sophie knew the shape of those shoulders. A thrill shot through her that he’d want to see her at the end of his day. She hated setting her hopes so deep into him, into whatever this was between them, but she couldn’t help herself. She’d been denied for so long.
With a flick of the dead bolt, she tugged open the heavy oak door. The porch light lit up one side of his face and the dark of night shadowed the other. That image right there summed up her Zach in the proverbial nutshell.
Wait . . . her Zach? Yes, he was hers. Always had been, if she was honest with herself.
His eyes raked over her body and Sophie resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself. She’d shucked her bra when she’d changed, and now she wore a black tank and old gray cotton shorts. Had she known she’d have company . . . nah, she still would’ve chosen comfort.
“Your light was on,” he stated.
