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“When I was little, I wanted to be a soldier. When we were in high school, Brendan and I even went and talked to a recruiter. They wanted to sign me up in their officer training program. But with Brendan’s grades, he would have gone in enlisted. He’s just as smart as I am, don’t get me wrong. School was just never his thing.” I squeeze her tighter, trying to force the emotion out of my voice. “I was all set with being an officer. But nine-eleven had just occurred a few years before. I couldn’t let them send Brendan overseas, not knowing if he’d come back. So, we chose something else.”
“I think you made the right decision.” She reaches up and squeezes my arm.
In that moment, I know I did. I wasn’t made to be a war hero. I wasn’t put here simply to care for my brother. Every step of my life has led me here, to her, made me the person capable of carrying her weight when it gets too much.
“Come on, Sweetheart,” I kiss the top of her head after my ass has gotten too sore from sitting on the hard subfloor, “let’s finish this room before our brushes dry out.”
We pry ourselves from the floor, then get right back to painting. While working, we try to keep the conversation lighter. We spend an hour discussing books in hopes of finding ones we’ve both read. But, we give up when that total comes to a whole whopping two, both by Stone Ryder.
It doesn’t take long to finish the room after that. Then we head out to the living room. Asra grabs the blue and green, immediately starting on the accent wall while I take the tan bucket of paint and start cutting the doorframe. I get one doorframe done when the back door crashes open.
“Honey, I’m –”
“Yep, you’re home,” I finish for him, “we’re in here.”
A moment later, Brendan strolls through the kitchen and into the middle of the room. He looks at me and nods.
Yep. It’s been a busy day. No, I didn’t stay in bed sleeping with our girl all day.I nod back.
He glances at her and busts out laughing. “Damn, baby girl, did pretty boy have you doing all the work today?”
She laughs. “I volunteered to help.”
He eyes her up and down. “Did you manage to get any paint on the wall?”
“A little,” she bats her long eyelashes at him, “but it was hard to get much on there being tangled together most of the day.”
I laugh. It’s nice to see that she can give it to him just as much as he dishes it out.
“I might buy that,” he takes a step closer, whispering in her ear loud enough for me to hear, “if he hadn’t already told me you two didn’t do the dirty yet today.”
Her eyes jerk to mine. I shrug and keep painting.
“What do you say,” he continues, “if we get you out of these dirty clothes and let him wash them for you. Then you can demonstrate just how you imagined being tangled around someone all day.”
I stop painting, all my attention on Asra as her mouth falls open.
“No more sassy words for me?”
Across the room, I watch as her chest heaves.
Brendan leans down and kisses her. Her paintbrush falls to the floor, splattering blue paint on their calves as her arms wrap around his neck.
It’s possessive. I’m surprised he doesn’t pick her up and carry her away.
“Missed you, Prude,” he says when he finally releases her.
“Missed you, too, Asshole.”
“Speaking of assholes, how’s yours doing?” He glances around her at her rear. “‘Cause I’d really like to –”
“Grab a brush and help and you can find out sooner,” I interrupt as I continue with my painting.
He gives me a look that I know means fuck off. But then, he glances over at Asra. “What do you need me to do?”
“Grab some tan and help cut the walls.”
“On it.” He nods and pours some paint into a bucket. Grabbing a paintbrush, he starts cutting the corner connecting to Asra’s accent wall.
