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It was my turn to be quiet and search for the right words. I snuck a quick glance at him from the corner of my eye and saw him studying me with those navy eyes.
“You don’t approve?” he asked, coming to a stop so he could turn fully toward me. We stood facing each other in the narrow hallway, and I was suddenly aware of how much physical space Holden St. James took up. He was a St. James, and St. James men took up space in any room just by virtue ofbeinga St. James. But Holden was still somehow...more. It was like his mere presence in a room sucked up all the air until there was nothing left but him. I couldn’t even imagine what he was like in the courtroom. I would absolutely love to imagine him in a well-tailored suit, though.Focus, Sutton, you pervert,I mentally chastised myself.
“No. I mean yes — yes, I approve of that plan. Not that you need my approval, of course. It’s your house. I’m just surprised, I guess.”
“Why are you surprised?”
Honestly, the most surprising thing to me right now was that he was not only asking my opinion but seemed genuinely interested in my response.
“Well, you’ve gutted most of the house down to the bones, so it seems odd to find this one room left untouched.”
“I hadn’t necessarily planned on gutting the house originally, but your father kept finding structural issues that had to be repaired. The roof was leaking badly, so there was a lot of water damage. A lot more than was visible.”
I nodded sympathetically. It really was the hidden damage that ended up pushing budgets and plans straight over the edge. Daddy always told clients to make a list of needs vs. wants, and to expect to be very flexible with the wants.
“That happens fairly often with renovations on old houses. Most of the problems aren’t visible.” My phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw who the message was from and smiled. It was a selfie from Maxine with Philomena smooshed up against her face. Maxine was trying to make the same facial expression as Philly.
“Boyfriend?” Holden asked as I slipped the phone back into my pocket, planning to read her message later. His assessing gaze was focused on my mouth, which was still in the shape of a grin. Normally, I would have found this question odd, but Holden was...well, Holden: entitled and observant. And we were going to be family. Well, sort of.
“No, just my friend Max. She’s taking care of my apartment for me while I’m here.”
“How long are you planning on staying?”
“I don’t have any concrete plans yet.” I stalled, not wanting to reveal that I hadn’t been aware that Sissy was engaged, and therefore had no idea what was expected of me regarding wedding stuff. “I’ll stay as long as I’m needed.”
I took another chug of coffee, mentally patting myself on the back for that generic response. Holden nodded, those alarmingly observant eyes boring into me like if he just focused enough, he could see right past my bright yellow exterior to all my secrets. It was making me nervous.
“You know, I’m not sure how things will go with Daddy’s leg or what Sissy might need help with for the wedding. Knowing Sissy, it’ll be a lot.”
I tried for a casual laugh, but it came out sounding more like a turkey being strangled. Holden just continued to stare at me thoughtfully. His eyes narrowed slightly, almost like he was trying to decide on something.
“Your sister — ”
“Everything okay?” Daddy’s voice rang out, cutting Holden off.
I waited a few seconds to see if he would finish his sentence, but it became obvious that whatever moment we’d been having had passed.
I spoke, trying to force a levity I didn’t feel. “We should get going before he tries to operate heavy machinery.”
Holden just gave me another small nod and turned to walk toward the kitchen.
Did I hang back for a minute so I could watch his perfect butt walking away? Yes — yes, I did. And I would do it again.
9
The smell of coffee broke through the final haze of sleep still clinging to me. I sighed, blinking against the bright sunlight filling the room through a crack in the blinds.
“I hate sunshine,” I grumbled, throwing the covers back and letting my feet hit the floor. “It’s always so pushy.”
With a lot more grumbling, I shuffled my way out of my room and toward the smell of coffee. As I neared the kitchen, my shuffling slowed at the sound of Sissy’s shrill voice, and I hated,hated, that I looked down at my old worn flannel sleep shorts and black tank top and wished I had worn something nicer.
“You are not that person,” I whispered, hoping that if I said the words out loud it would give them more power. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Sutton? Sweetie, is that you?” Mama called out, forcing me out of hiding.
“It’s me,” I answered, stepping into the kitchen.
Sissy was sitting across the table from Mama, her hairstyle a bit extreme for breakfast with the family, even for her. Her platinum locks were pulled back into a very puffy half ponytail, held back with two elaborate braids while the rest of it flowed down in immaculately styled waves.
