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Sebastian looked surprised, but graciously didn’t ask any questions. He simply nodded. “You got it.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Carly sent a grateful look and waved as she left the office and continued on to the post office.
HENEEDEDTOmake things right.
Over the last few weeks, his emotions had been a whirlwind, but the one constant was how he felt about Carly. Even when he was conflicted, wondering if it was too soon or whether he was truly ready to move forward with her in a new capacity, there had always been that love. Deep, burning, passionate and real.
Pushing her away had been a natural, automatic defense mechanism out of hurt and disappointment, but he knew it hadn’t been the right thing to do. Carly had always been a rock for him, a shoulder to cry on, someone to make him laugh and the only person in the world he trusted, but it had been unfair of him to expect her to always agree or go along with what he wanted. That wasn’t a relationship, and if he wanted to be with her—which he so desperately did—then he needed to learn to compromise, to open his mind and heart to the new proposal, and figure out how they moved forwardtogether-together. As a team.
He hadn’t heard from her in days. She was giving him and Tess space, but he sensed it was more than that. She was pulling away. He deserved it. He’d been so hot and cold, so selfish and careless with her emotions, with her heart. She’d never been anything but a support system for him and Tess and he’d taken advantage of that. Then he’d opened up to her, starting to give her hope of a future together, then shut back down again.
He needed to fix things and fast.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t just go and apologize to her. Carly deserved more than that. Saying sorry wasn’t enough after all the years she’d patiently waited for him to realize what she had to offer—that they were perfect together. He needed to do something, show her how he felt. Demonstrate the depth of his feelings.
And he may have figured out the perfect way.
Heading into the shed, he retrieved the extra buckets of paint left over from the float. The main portion was dry and covered and waiting for the event the next day, but there was something he wanted to add.
Opening the lids on the darkest blue and several lighter shades, along with the white, he stirred the colors and poured them into separate paint trays. Dipping the roller into the darkest one, he took a deep breath before rolling it along the frame of his favorite, reliable pickup truck. He just hoped he could pull this off without making a mess of things.
And he meant more than just the truck’s paint job.
The next day, he paced the kitchen, a nervous wreck as he waited. The sound of a vehicle pulling into the lot had his heart pounding in his chest and his palms sweating.
“Is that Carly?” Tess’s eyes lit up from where she sat eating breakfast. She’d barely slept the night before; she was so excited about the parade that day. It was a highlight of the summer for her, and this year, it held more stakes for Oliver as well.
“I think so,” he said, taking her empty cereal bowl from Ginger (the name they’d decided to keep), who was lapping up the remaining milk, and placing it in the dishwasher. He needed a moment. He needed to try to figure out the emotions raging within him before he could say anything.
He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her he was sorry and that he loved her and that the last few days had really had him spiraling with indecision, but things were clearer now—or at least getting there. He wanted to continue what they had started, building a life together, a love together...
The closure had been tough to receive, but now as the shock of the news faded, he realized it was what he’d needed to fully move on.
He wiped his palms against his jeans as he headed outside to the shed. He had the flatbed already hooked up to the truck for her and the parade float was ready to go.
He paused, hearing voices in the shed. Tess’s. Carly’s. And...Sebastian’s?
What the hell was the other man doing there?
Sweat pooled on Oliver’s back as he entered the shed.
“Hey,” Carly said awkwardly, sending him a quick glance before continuing to inspect the float.
“Hey,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. She looked so pretty in a blue flowing skirt and white tank top, her long dark hair curled and hanging loose around her shoulders. He had to resist the urge to touch her, reach out to hold her, kiss her, confess his undying love.
None of that would happen now with Sebastian there.
All he could do was stand there and hope they got another chance to talk soon.
Carly’s eyes widened when she noticed the truck. “Oh my God. You painted your truck?” She trailed a hand over the finished design.
“Like it?” he asked, nervously. The dark blue paint with the waves and bubbles had taken him hours, but he’d wanted to surprise her.
“Like it?” she asked. “It’s so beautiful!” She continued to stare at it. “I can’t believe you did this.”
He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets, despite the happiness he felt at her approval. “We really only use this truck for the parade anyway,” he said and immediately regretted downplaying the act when her face fell slightly.
What he’d meant to say—what he’d wanted to say—was that he’d done this for her because she deserved the most fantastic float ever. That he’d done it to apologize for his mood and actions the last few days, and mostly, he’d done it because he loved her and he wanted to make her happy. But the words refused to surface.
