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We both head back towards the guest room, ready to tackle the remaining tasks. It might be a long night, but at least I have my sister by my side.
***
Several hours later, after countless debates over color palettes and pattern clashes, Rachel and I finally manage to get the guest bedroom fixed up. Sure, it's still eclectic, but it's subdued enough so that our Mom won't completely freak out.
I step back, admiring our handiwork.
The sun is setting, casting a fading amber light through the window, and my stomach rumbles, reminding me that it's dinner time.
Just as I'm about to suggest we call it a night, the sudden chime of the doorbell echoes throughout the house.
"Were you expecting company?" I ask, glancing towards the door.
Rachel shakes her head. "No, I don't think so. Maybe it's a neighbor?"
We both make our way to the door, curiosity piqued. Rachel opens the front door, and my eyes widen in surprise as I take in the tall figure standing on our doorstep.
It's Dean.
His dark jeans cling to his muscular legs, accentuating his strong, masculine build. A snug Fit Mountain Fire sweatshirt stretches over his broad shoulders, peeking out from beneath a winter jacket. His hair, usually a tumbled mass of waves, is swept back off his forehead, revealing piercing blue eyes that have always made my heart flutter.
My surprise bubbles up, escaping in the form of an incredulous, "What are you doing here?"
"I thought I'd take Ava to Chocolate Moose for dinner. She's waiting in the car," he says. Then he clears his throat. "Thought we'd swing by and pick you up on the way."
His words send a tingle of pleasure through me.
Dean isn't usually sentimental. He's more of a 'do what needs to be done' kind of man. But the fact that he thought of me, that he wanted me there, makes my heart do a little somersault.
For a moment, I'm rendered speechless. Then, I manage to find my voice.
"Sure," I say, trying to control the excitement in my voice, "Let me grab my purse."
As I turn to leave, Rachel lets out a high-pitched squeal that has me laughing. She follows me into the bedroom and gives me a knowing look.
"You little liar," she laughs as she pinches me in the side. "I thought you said nothing was going on between the two of you."
"Nope, not a thing," I reply, grinning as I grab my purse. Her excitement is infectious, and I can't help but feel a bubble of anticipation in my chest. We both know how significant this is.
Walking back to the front door, my heart races. Dean straightens as I approach, and I can't help but feel a flutter of nerves.
"I'm ready to go," I tell him, offering a shy smile. His eyes soften for a moment, and then he nods, opening the door wider to let me pass.
But as I approach the door, Dean quirks an eyebrow at me. "Where's your coat?"
"Oh," I blink at him. "I... I got in the car so fast, I forgot it."
He shakes his head. "Come here."
I step closer, confused.
Dean shrugs off his jacket, the one he's been wearing over his sweatshirt. Then, he wraps his arms around me and gently drapes it over my shoulders.
"Don't want you getting sick."
His coat is heavy and warm, smelling distinctly of him - a mix of pine and fire.
As he pulls my ponytail out from under the collar, his fingers brush against the nape of my neck. They're rough and calloused, but the warmth of his touch sends a shiver down my spine.
