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“Can I have one, Uncle Tully?”
Everyone whipped around and looked at Tully. He simply smirked. “You get shapes in your pancakes, sweetie. Trust me when I say you’re not getting this for a few years.”
“Or ever,” Linc growled.
Mitchell put the ham back in the oven and ruffled Greer’s hair. “Don’t mind Uncle Tully, sweetie. He has to play with his food. Sometimes it’s the only way he gets things the size he wants.”
“Dawson, defend my honor.”
“You are on your own, Tully. I’m not getting in the middle of your squabbles with the boys.”
“They’re about to make a mess, aren’t they, Mama?”
Emma covered the soup and lowered the heat. “Yes, baby. I think they are. Let’s leave them to it.”
The first bit of dough flew through the air as the women exited the kitchen.
…
Hope bit back her yawn. She would have no problem falling asleep right here. She and Mitchell sat before the burning fire pit as fat snowflakes fell down upon them, sharing a section of the outdoor seating where they were wrapped in a warm blanket. The footrest was up and they lay in it as if it was a recliner. The deck area was stunning, a large flat section with couchlike seating around the large pit in the center.
“I made this pit with Tully and Linc,” he murmured against her temple. “One of the first things I did with this house after I bought it. I took them with me to go shopping for the stone. And the couches.” His chest moved with his chuckle. “It was hard, making a decision like that. So many options and they, well, they weren’t any help. More like a hindrance.”
“But they’re your problem children.”
“I know, I know.” His statement was overdramatic. “I keep trying to take them over the river, like you do mice so they don’t come back, but somehow they always find their way home.”
She laughed. “You love them.”
“God, please don’t tell them that.”
She snuggled against him, loving how secure his arms felt around her. Like he had zero intention of letting her go. For the first time in her life, she didn’t want to be released. She longed to keep this, whatever it was she had right now. What would it be like to have him to come home to after a work trip?
Her ex had made her want this before but with him, she’d been hesitant. And for good reason, it turned out. He’d only wanted her in order to boost his career. A black woman with not one but three doctorates. When she’d overheard him telling his sidepiece that he would send them away if she wanted to keep the baby but he had to be with Hope because it would be a boost for him in the eyes of certain people and that he was willing to overlook her size because of that, she’d walked away from him and the future they were supposed to have.
She needed to change her train of thought, cut the rope to the anchor pulling her down into the darkness.
“Why this house?”
He was silent for a moment. “After I divorced my ex-wife, I wanted to start over. Needed something to fix up for myself that didn’t have her taint on it. Something to cleanse me, if that makes sense.”
It did. Purging the negativity.
“And do you want to be a carpenter in your next life? Is that why you’re doing the work or is that part of the cleansing you spoke about? Because I’m guessing you could have had some company come in and do it all for you.”
“I wanted to do it. To be able to look at it and say, mistakes or not, imperfections or not, I did this.”
“No imperfections from what I can see.”
“I’ve done three rooms. Still a long way to go.” He tipped her chin up to press a tender kiss there.
Her insides melted. How was this man so fucking perfect?
Determined not to fall further for this man who was undoing her with one word and one action after another, she tried for levity. “Fine then, these three are fantastic. I hope and pray you don’t fuck it up with the rest.”
His chuckle moved through her, and she smiled while she settled against his chest. Even the flakes which hit her skin didn’t make her want to run inside and get away from it all. It was beautiful out here. The flames offered the only light. Nothing came from the inside. If they wanted, there was a switch somewhere to turn on the solar lights that were placed strategically around the patio area.
“Tell me about you, Hope. You don’t talk about yourself.”
She didn’t. And she didn’t want to. Right now, the pain of losing her mentor was still too fresh in her mind.
“Not much to tell about me. Only child. I grew up in foster care. A few homes tried me out but it wasn’t a good fit. I spent most of my years in a state home. They kicked me out at eighteen.”
