Page 87 of Until Then

Sucking in a breath, she cocks her head and assesses me. “They don’t know?”

“No.”

“Who does?”

“Only Brooks. He’s the one who found the land for me. And… now, you.”

Her dumbfounded expression has me looking at the ground, toeing the edge of my boot into the dirt.

“Derrick?”

“Hmm?” I hum, still focused on the ground beneath me.

“Look at me.” It’s the pleading in her tone that has me looking up. “Why haven’t you told anyone else?”

I shove my hands into my pockets and find a coin I’d forgotten about in one. I rub my thumb and forefinger over the warm metal, grounding myself.

“It was easier to keep it a secret. That way, if I never moved forward with it, I wouldn’t let anyone down.”

Her feet crunch over the dead leaves littering the ground from winters gone by as she closes the small distance between us. She stands beside me now, looking out at the lake. “What do you think now?”

I envision myself pulling up the driveway to a finished house. A deck where I can sit and drink my morning coffee and converse with the squirrels. The lake to boat in. And maybe, if things go right, this woman at my side.

“I think it’s time.”

25

IZZY

I stretch,searching for warm skin, but all I find are cool sheets. We haven’t slept in the same bed every night, but most nights, and I find that I sleep better with Derrick.

I sit up and squint at the clock on the bedside table. A little after two.

Wonton cracks an eye open, watching me with disdain for disturbing his beauty sleep.

With a groan, I slip out of bed and slide my feet into my slippers.

Wonton huffs with annoyance and shuffles up the bed to plop on the pillow I last saw Derrick sleeping on.

Down the hall, I peek into his room but find his bed undisturbed.

Interesting.

I carefully make my way down thestairs, and when I hit the landing, I find the kitchen aglow. “Hey,” I croak. “What are you up to?”

Derrick turns to me, his eyes heavy. “What time is it?” he asks, stifling a yawn.

“A little after two.” I pour myself a glass of water, then join him at the table, eyeing the papers spread out in front of him. Sketches of floor plans and room designs. There’s a schematic of a fireplace with stone and built-in shelves near his right elbow. The design is similar to what he has here. “Feeling inspired?”

He lowers his head and scans the mess of papers, then, noticing the graphite smeared on the side of his left hand, he rubs it against his shorts. “Yeah.” A tired half smile graces his lips. “I am. I felt silly holding on to the land like that, but selling it never sat right with me. It’ll take a while, years probably, to get it done, but it’ll be worth it in the end.”

My chest warms with affection. “I’m glad you’re going for it. You’re clearly happy there.”

He shuffles the papers into a pile and slides them to the right side. “What are you doing up?”

“My bed was cold.”

“I’m sorry.” Frowning, he scoots his chair back and opens his arms. “C’mere, baby.”

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