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“Does Caleb know?” Liam asks.
“Yeah, he’s in on it. And he’snotgood at secrets, so I didn’t tell him until today, and I’m sticking close to him, just in case.”
“Come on, you guys,” Caleb calls out. “We cut the cake.”
After another hour, and an entire chocolate cake, the guys leave, and I stand in front of a mountain of boxes with London at my side.
Caleb abandoned us to play video games.
“This is going to take some time.” I glance down at her. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess.”
“It’s not a mess. It’s just boxes. We’ll get it figured out. I see this one is marked linens. What kind of linens?”
“Sheets, towels, kitchen towels. Stuff like that.”
“Uh, Drew?”
“Yeah, babe.”
“Have you ever lived with a woman before?”
“Aside from my sisters and mom? No, ma’am.”
“Well, how this works is,Ipick that stuff out. Yes, this isourhouse, but when it comes to décor or linens, that’s my department.”
“And I’ll happily let you have that department, but I couldn’t leave it with Lucy. She wants her own stuff, too.”
“Oh, good point. Well, do you mind if we donate it?”
“You don’t even want to look through it to see if there’s something you want to keep?”
She just stares at me, blinking slowly.
“I’m going to take that as a no.” With a laugh, I kiss the top of her head and then lift the box. “Where do I put the donation pile?”
“In the garage,” she says, pointing to the back of the house, and I carry it out there, setting it in a corner.
“One box down,” I say when I return.
“This one is labeled office,” she says.
“Yeah, it’s office stuff. You don’t happen to have a spare room in this house that could be my office, do you?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she says and crooks her finger for me to follow her through the kitchen and living area, to a small room that faces the backyard. “I didn’t know what to use this room for. It’s small, but it’s definitely big enough for a desk.”
“It’s actually perfect. I won’t have to use it every day, but it’s great for the times I’ll need it.”
“I’m going to start a list of the things we need,” she says, taking out her phone. “First on the list is a desk and chair.”
“And a lamp.”
She makes the note. “We’re pretty good at this wholeworking as a teamthing.”
I grin, relieved that she thinks so, because if all goes as planned, she’ll be my fiancée by midnight.
Within an hour, we have a plan for all the boxes—some of them are put away, and others are added to the donation pile.
“Okay, I feel better about this.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “It’s organized chaos now.”
