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Equity? “What do you mean? You’re still working for your brothers?”
He approaches me slowly, a crowbar resting on his shoulder. Harley is covered in sweat and grime. “Yep. It means I’m staying with Wood Brothers Construction for now.”
I cover my cheeks with both hands in a full-onHome Aloneexpression. “Why would you do that? I thought branching out on your own was your dream?”
Harley shrugs. “My dream is to be able to provide for a family. I can’t do that if I’m starting out a business. It’s more secure this way. I’ll stay a little longer and do more houses like this one. Pay off the mortgage and fix my credit so I’m good enough for you.”
My heart plummets. I step forward and cup his cheek. Harley is so pure and good and patient.
“Harley. I don’t care about any stupid fucking credit score.”
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
“You don’t care about that? I thought you would. Seeing as you’re, like, super successful and stuff.”
“No. Why would I?”
I shake my head in wonder. “I don’t know. But hey, let me have that list.”
“What list?”
“That list of contingencies. I’ll take care of all of it for you. The kitchen cabinets, the paint in the hallway. I’ll even rip out the built-in shelves.”
I tilt my head to examine him for signs of a concussion.
“Um, baby? I don’t know if you know this, but the house is yours. You don’t have to do anything with the contingencies.”
Harley’s stare is deadly serious.
“Correction. The house is ours. And I’m gonna fix it up. Starting by ripping out the garden tub and putting in this one.”
He gestures with his chin toward the primary bathroom, and I nervously peek around the corner, bracing for what this unbelievably sweet lunatic has done now.
The most gorgeous deep soak tub I’ve ever seen is in the middle of the room.
“Harley. What do you mean it’s ours?”
“Yours and mine. Together. If you want it.”
I need a minute to think. I need a minute to breathe.
No one has ever wanted me this much, this soon, with this much dedication. I thought there was something wrong with me, but…
I drop my bag on the bathroom tile and slowly rest my hands on the edge, bracing myself as I swing one leg in, then the other.
“Baby? Are you okay? It’s not hooked up, and it’s dusty in there. You’re wearing your nice work clothes…”
I say nothing at first, then I squat down and sit my butt down. Then, I lean back against the slanted porcelain, resting my head. I close my eyes. I can hear Harley breathing. This isn’t about the fact that he chose me.
I don’t love a man just because he chose me.
I love the way he cares about me. He would rip this gorgeous house apart if I asked him to.
I don’t want that, but I just want that energy in my life. His soul, his thoughtfulness, his kindness.
I want Harley.
Finally, I open my eyes to find Harley standing over me with an expression that’s a mix of amusement and worry.
