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It wasn’t dread on her face. Or frustration.
She was smiling.
Then she quickly looked in the rearview mirror to fix her hair.
What the fuck was happening?
Someone had flipped a light switch between us, and I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around how suddenly it had happened.
When she got out of the car and walked swiftly to the door, I leaned back against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest.
Just waiting.
Her eyes found mine as soon as she walked through the door, and she smiled.
The kind of smile where you’re trying to keep it small and polite, but the edges of your lips can’t quite stay contained.
“Look who’s back.”
I hummed. Her gaze moved over my arms and chest, then back up to my face.
“You didn’t tell anyone you were coming.” She kicked off her sandals and dropped her keys into the yellow ceramic bowl. How was that sound so familiar already? “I didn’t peg you for a dramatic-entrance guy.”
“It was a last-minute decision,” I said. “Over at your aunt’s?”
She shook her head. “We made dinner for the workers over at William’s cousin’s house.”
I nodded. “When you saywe...”
Charlotte laughed. “Richard made dinner for the workers, and I went back for thirds, which is more than any of those guys.”
My eyes tracked over her frame. She was wearing a pretty green dress with thin straps and a ruffled hem that floated around her tan thighs.
“Nice dress,” I said, my voice level and low.
She swallowed. “Thank you.”
“Wanna show me the house before it gets dark?”
Her smile widened. “Yes.”
We walked slowly, her shoulder brushing against my upper arm as we ascended the perfectly built new steps leading up to the front door. It had been sanded down and was ready for a fresh coat of paint.
They’d added a stoop above the landing at the entrance—one of the things they’d called me about while I was gone—and I glanced at the new columns appreciatively. “I like it.”
Charlotte entered the house before me, pointing out all the things they’d accomplished in my absence.
It was still a mess, but it was a different kind of mess now.
Tools and sawhorses littered the rooms. We walked cautiously around extension cords, and I carefully placed my hand under her elbow so she didn’t trip over someone’s tool belt leaning up against the wall.
Where there used to be gaping holes in the plaster, there were now solid walls.
Lights turned on as we moved through the house, and she explained all the things she’d sent me pictures of.
Broken tiles had been removed from around fireplaces; ruined floors had been ripped up and replaced with strong subfloors.
In the new kitchen, they were almost done framing out the cabinets, and I walked the perimeter of the island with a growing sense of satisfaction.
