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Brock nodded. “We’ve been working on the house. You should come see it.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for that.” Sophie still wanted to know what part Brock was playing in all of this. Zach wasn’t one to play games. “Who brought you here?”
“Zach.”
Sophie straightened. “Is he waiting in the car?” Was he afraid to come in? What on earth was going on?
“No, he ran to Knobs and Knockers. He said he’d be back out front in ten minutes.”
“Am I supposed to deliver this folder then?”
Brock shrugged. “He didn’t tell me that.”
Sophie couldn’t help but laugh . . . she was either going to laugh or cry, because she was so confused right now she didn’t even know what to feel.
“You can wait in the lobby for Zach, and when he gets here, you tell him he’ll get his sketches when I’m ready to give them back.”
Brock’s eyes widened. “He won’t like that. I think he was hoping for today.”
“Was he now?” And why was that? Did he have something planned? She knew for a fact they weren’t near ready to hang the sketches, and she still had more to work on. “He’ll have to get over it.”
“How long are you guys going to fight?” Brock asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. He glanced down at his new shoes. “Sorry. That’s not my business. It’s just, you look like you’ve been crying, Braxton is mad at Zach, and Zach hates the world right now. Liam went back to Savannah, but he was pissed at Zach when he left, too.”
“I haven’t cried for a few hours, actually. I just didn’t bother with much makeup today. As for the rest of it, sounds pretty normal for the Monroe boys.”
“Are you really planning on moving?” he asked. He stared at her as if he were afraid of the answer.
Sophie tipped her head and weighed her answer, editing it in her own mind. “It’s been a thought. But I’ve not decided anything. Why? Who told you I was?”
“Braxton mentioned it to Zach the other day and then they were trying hard not to hit each other.”
Sophie was impressed they’d had any self-control. They really cared about Brock, to keep their fists to themselves.
Brock turned to head out the door. “I’ll go wait on Zach and I’ll give him your message.”
Sophie crossed the room. “I’m glad you stopped by, even if you were playing the middleman. You look great.”
A smile tipped Brock’s lips. “Thanks. It’s been a good week, all things considered. And Zach might even let me keep one of the puppies.”
“Just one?” Sophie quirked a brow.
Brock laughed. “I’m still working on the others. He talks to them like babies. He’s pretty ridiculous. I don’t think when the time comes he’ll be able to get rid of them.”
Sophie knew he wouldn’t. She’d seen how he cared for the dogs, even if he pretended to still be a badass. He bottle fed one, had kept vigil during the night of the birth like some nervous father, and he was talking to them like children. The man had seriously grown attached to those pups.
“I better go wait on him,” Brock stated. “You promise you’ll bring those back. Right?”
“Promise,” she said with a smile. She didn’t have to say when.
Once Brock was gone, she waited another twenty minutes before she went to turn her sign to CLOSED. She was done with this day. She sank back into her office chair and flipped the folder open once more.
Flipping through each sketch, she froze when she found an extra paper at the end. Another drawing. It was terrible, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of it.
It was a drawing of Zach’s house with a man and a woman in the front yard. Stick people, actually, but one of them had on a triangle “dress” and there was another boy off to the side.
At the bottom, in Zach’s scratchy handwriting, it said: WHAT FAMILY LOOKS LIKE TO ME.
