Evolve Series Box Set (73 page)

“Thank you. Now, I bought some paint for the room I’m doing. Do I have time to get started on that or do we have plans?” I ask, my tone warmer.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to hire—”

“We have to do it ourselves, remember? That was part of the bet,” I interrupt him. “I mean, if you want to send someone in to paint your room, be my guest. Just let me know when our date is,” I tease him.

“No, no, I remember now. I’ll paint mine, you go ahead and start painting yours. Go wild, baby, I have several conference calls and a late meeting. I’ll call or text you an ETA when I have an idea when I’ll be done.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you then. Love you.”

“I love you, Laney Jo,” he answers, somewhat solemnly, “but I’m still winning the bet.”

“Puhleeese.” I giggle before hanging up.

***

Despite jamming to “Stereo Hearts” by GCH while I paint like the natural Picasso that I am, I hear my phone ding and jump off my stepstool, wiping my sweaty brow, to check it.

Bennett: Where r u?

Laney: At the duplex painting. U?

Bennett: Lol, next door. That must be your music, thought it was guy out back. Almost done?

Laney: I could be. Y r we still texting? Walk over here.

I chuckle to myself, setting down my phone and walking over to turn off the music.

“Yoo hoo!” she calls out.

“Hey, girl, back here!”

“Heyyyy,” she lets out a long whistle, “looking good in here. I love the purple!” She claps her hands and bounces in place. “Isn’t it fun, fixing up your own personal dollhouse?”

“Yeah.” I laugh, pulling in her in for a quick hug. She’s like walking sunshine, you just can’t help but wanna hug her. “But it’s not purple,” I waggle my finger at her, wanting to clear up this terrible misconception, “it’s called Champagne Elegance and it’s a silkier version of -lilac.” I perfectly mimic the way-too-excited-to-sell-paint-for-a-living saleswoman who basically chastised me where I stood for using “ugly, mundane words” like purple, yellow and—gasp—red.

“Don’t tell Dane you got a sneak peek. You’re one of the judges and shouldn’t know which room I did, okay? You were never here.” I use my best mobster voice, brushing my knuckles under my chin like a boss. “And not to sway your vote, but the fridge came today and there’s a bottle of wine in it that I’d love to share with you, Votie Voterson.”

“Yay! Tate’s working and our furniture,” she looks pointedly around at my barren space, “is already in. Let’s do girls’ night at my place! Can we?” Her face is hopeful. “I miss my Laney time.” She pooches out her bottom lip and gives me irresistible puppy dog eyes.

“I can hang ‘til Dane’s done at work. Can I shower there?”

“Of course you can.” She wrinkles her nose and lets her eyes drift in the area of my pits. “Please do.” She giggles. “I’ll grab the wine, just head over when you’ve wrapped up here.”

I nod, heading to the sink to rinse my paintbrushes. As I watch the swirls of muted purple spin around and disappear down the drain, I lift my chin and smile. This bet with Dane is gonna be like taking candy from a baby. He’s been too busy to even start on his room, and I’ve been working like a dog, almost done with the second coat of paint in mine. The curtains are on the rod and new switch plates and outlet covers have been purchased, both ready to go up as soon as the paint’s dry. I’d decided against the softball theme and am going with a tranquil space, different hues of light purples, sage greens and lots of candles. It’s gonna be great!

Finished up with the rinsing, I do a quick walk-through, flipping off the lights and locking the door behind me. I turn to walk the whole ten steps to Bennett’s, letting out a screamed “Oh!” as I catch myself with one hand on the bricks, looking down to see what I’ve tripped over. Looking right back up at me is one very miserable, very pregnant dog. Bassett hound? Beagle? I don’t know, but she’s definitely in no mood to move, belly dragging the ground.

“Are you lost, sweetie?” I bend down, gently petting her head. “Huh? You have a collar, somebody must be missing you.”

“Charlie!” The yell is followed by a sharp whistle. “Charlie, come ‘ere, girl!” rings through the evening air.

Charlie? This dog is most definitely female.

“Over here!” I yell.

“Oh, hi,” says a man whose good looks even the enclosing darkness can’t hide. “Charlie,” he too squats down closer to the hound, “girl, how’d you get out? You can’t have those puppies on a stranger’s porch.” He chuckles lightly, giving Charlie a scratch behind the ears, her tail wagging slightly.

I giggle at the poor dog’s obvious discomfort at something as simple as a flick of the tail and the man looks up at me.

“I’m sorry,” he shakes his head, embarrassed. “I’m Tucker Lucas, I live next door there.” He points to the right with a shift of his head and offers me his hand. “Did you just move in?”

“Yeah, well, almost,” I babble. “I mean yes, I’m moving in, getting things ready. I’m Laney Walker.” I extend my hand to his. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” He smiles, his white teeth glowing in the dusk. “Sorry about Charlie here. She’s getting stir crazy waiting for the puppies.”

“What kind of dog is she?”

“She’s a beagle. Although she’s not too miniature right now,” he laughs.

“She’s precious, but miserable I’m sure.” I stand, glancing around awkwardly and running my hands down my pant legs, out of things to say.

“Um, so very nice to meet you, Laney, and welcome to the neighborhood. You’ll love it here, everyone’s real friendly. Come on, Charlie,” he hoists the grunting dog into his arms, “say goodbye to Laney.”

“Bye, Charlie.” I grin at the sweet animal and rub her head. “Night, Tucker.”

“Night, neighbor.”

I watch him walk away, smirking as he lugs the mama across the lawn, then turn and head to Bennett’s door. “Knock knock!” I call out as I open the door.

“Hey!” Bennett pops in front of me, her face concerned. “What took you so long?”

“I met our neighbor. His pregnant dog wandered up on my porch.”

“His?” She wiggles her eyebrows and grins.

“Yeah?” I give her a questioning look, not quite catching what she’s throwing.

“Describe.” She rolls her fingertips together, a curious smile twisting her mouth.

“I don’t know, short, bald, probably seventy, seventy-five. Why?”

“Oh.” Her shoulders slump and she frowns.

Seriously? Has she seen her boyfriend lately? He’s almost as hot as his little brother, thus the reason I could care less that our neighbor is, in fact, very easy on the eyes. And when I say easy on the eyes, I mean God was good to him, but he’s got nothing on the youngest Kendrick man.

“I’m kidding you, Ben. He’s cute, probably thirty, blond hair. Seemed very nice.” I shrug, heading to the kitchen in search of the wine I had planned. “Why do you care anyway? You and Tate okay?”

“Of course we are—perfect. I was just curious. I’d simply rather have some eye candy in the hood than,” she contemplates, “well, than not.”

“Slut,” I cough into my hand, trying not to laugh.

“Only a look slut, I never touch. I love my Taterbear.”

“Taterbear?” I snort, slamming the fridge door shut and bugging my eyes out at her. “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. How am I supposed to look at him now?”

“Oh, hush.” She pushes on my shoulder, her cheeks now the color of her hair. “Don’t you and Dane have bedroom names?”

“Oh my God, Bennett! You call him that in the bedroom?” I’m nearly shouting now, bent over with my hands on my knees, bracing my body’s full-gut laughter. “Please stop talking, my ears are bleeding!”

“You’re so mean, Laney,” she whines, “I’m never telling you anything ever again.”

“Thank God!” I wheeze out, still hee-hawing at her.

“Come on, bitch, grab your glass and I’ll give you the grand tour. If you can compose yourself long enough,” she says haughtily, and I think I hear a muttered “skank” as she leads us down the hall.

“So you just saw the kitchen, and this is the hall,” she gestures with her hand, “and the spare bedroom.” She opens the door, to a fully-furnished, painted, room.

“How the hell did you get everything painted so fast?” I ask, it only now registering that her kitchen and hall have a fresh shine as well.

“Tate hired painters.” She shrugs a shoulder, looking at me like I’m crazy.

Maybe I am; her side is organized and beautiful, while mine looks like the do-it-yourself project that it is.

“And this,” her smile grows wide and her eyes twinkle, “is the master.” She opens the door with grandeur, stepping aside to give me room to see.

Oh, it’s something all right. The walls are a deep red, the bed a dark brown and prominent…but not as much as the pictures on the walls.

“Wow, Ben,” I look at the ground, my cheeks heating, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What, the pictures? Do you like them? They were Tate’s Valentine’s Day present. He had them blown up when we got this place.”

“They’re very, um,” I stammer, searching for the right word, but all that’s coming to mind is revealing. I mean, I literally see nipple from here. What if her parents want a tour one day? “They’re… You’re… I mean, they’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

“Thanks,” she chirps happily, “Paul down at MK did them.”

“Halo” by Beyonce sounds from my pocket and interrupts us, which tells me it’s my love calling. And thank God for his timing.

“Hello?” I quickly answer, stepping back into the hallway.

“Where are you?” He cuts right to the chase, as always.

“At Bennett’s, where are you?”

“At the door.”

I hear the knock, and go answer it, only just realizing I can hang up the phone now. “Hey, you.” I smile when I open it and see him on the porch in a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dark slacks and shiny silver belt buckle. Yummy. The pink tie around his neck is very nicely loosened, and just like that, he takes my breath. Every. Single. Time.

“Baby,” he sighs heavily, wrapping me tightly in his arms, his face finding the crook of my neck. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“It’s okay, I needed to catch up with my girl anyway. Do you want to come in for a minute, say hi to Bennett?”

“Just for a sec,” he whispers in my ear. “I wanna shower, change, eat and make love to you in that order, and sooner rather than later.”

I pull back and place a soft kiss to his lips, more than game with his plan. “Then what are you waiting for? Go give her a hug and get me home. But make sure she meets you in the hall.” I smirk, half-thinking I shouldn’t have warned him.

CHAPTER 4

***Dane***

“Laney?”

“Back here!” she shouts from the bedroom, then appears, hurrying out to meet me in the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her.

“Hey,” I greet her with a deep, slow kiss. “Whatcha hiding?” I glance to the closed door behind us when we break apart, much too soon for my liking.

“My room makeover. You think I’m gonna let you steal all my great ideas?”

“I bet I can guess what color you’re painting it,” I grin, picking up a strand of her paint-splattered hair and rubbing it between my fingers. “I’m glad you changed your mind on the softball yellow. It wouldn’t go with your eyes.”

“Hmpf.” She pushes playfully on my chest. “Are you just here to spy? I thought you had a meeting.”

“I did, but I’d had enough today. I thought I’d come take you furniture shopping. We can start filling the living room, the kitchen,” I shrug, “whatever.”

She slides her arms around my waist and tucks her hands into my back pockets, squeezing my ass. “I was thinking about hitting some garage sales this weekend first. You can get some great deals at them. That’s how I had filled the house for Daddy and me, living on a fixed income. He never knew, really.  He’d come home to a nice new shirt, or pair of shoes, or boots, or work gloves, and go on and on like I’d spent way too much on “such a fine present,” and I’d spent a dollar.”

The story is sweet, and so is Laney, taking care of others any way she can…but I can give her better. I can take care of her in the finest ways possible. And what good is money if not to spend it on the woman you love? 

“W-we are not getting your furniture at a garage sale,” I sputter like there’s a bad taste in my mouth.

“Don’t be such a snob, Richie Rich,” she rolls her eyes, “lots of stuff you find is very nice. And it’ll save money. You’ve already spent so much. You bought me a house, for crying out loud. I just want to cut costs when possible.”

I take my time, running both my hands through my hair, then down my face, planning my next sentence. “Baby,” I begin, deceptively calm as I let out a deep breath, “who better to spend money on than my favorite person in the world? It makes me happy to do things for you. Please don’t fight me, just let me.”

Relationships are about compromise, I know this. Love is patient, love is kind, blah, blah, blah, but this woman is literally gonna turn me into a saint…or kill me. I’m not sure which will come first.

“Dane,” she purrs, closing the practically nonexistent gap between our bodies and running her hands up my chest, “how about we see what we can find at sales first and then we can buy the rest?”

Ah, she, too, was calculating a compromise.

“I’ll think about it,” I grumble. “I’m starving anyway. Go get cleaned up and we’ll go eat instead.” I pause to slap her butt. “We can sleep at my house tonight since you have no bed.”

“Let’s just go to your house now. I’ll clean up there and cook for you,” she offers.

“I swear, you’d argue with a fence post. Fine, let’s go.” My voice chastises, but I wink, letting her know that I really can’t wait to have her in my space, all to myself.

***

“Baby, leave the dishes and come to me.” I push back the chair and pat my lap. “Helen can get those tomorrow. I wanna hold you.”