Page 27 of The Plan

Snarly snarled right back. “Herbrother, actually. Officer Murdoch Lake, TSP out of Wichita Falls. And I don’t like the tone you just used with my baby sister. You are?”

“None of your fucking business. I ain’t done nothing wrong.”

“Maybe not, but your words sure sounded like a threat to me. Might want to work on that.” Snarly turned to his sister as Junior slithered off. “I came to get you. Take you home with me tonight.”

“I am being railroaded into going to Georgie’s for dinner tonight. He has promised me real food. I’m…apparently reallyeasy…that way.” She shot George a look out of those beautiful eyes. One filled with concern. “Tolben is really angry with you.”

“I shouldn’t have lost his father’s case; Judge Felner was wrong. On all counts. He knew it, too. He would barely look at me today. And every argument Atkins brought up was weak—but Felner agreed.”

“I’m sorry.” She pressed a hand to his chest, then rested her forehead against his heart. Snarly snarled. “You’ll figure it out, Georgie. I know you will.”

“Just not tonight.” He turned to her brother. “Good to see you again, but I am making your sister dinner tonight and we are going to discuss the baby. Otherwise I would invite you to come over, see the house I’m remodeling for her. I’m sure you understand.”

Please go back under the rock you have crawled out from, Uncle Snarly.That was what George wanted to say. But his mother had raised him better than that. He just waited.

If Veronica wanted to—she could walk right out of this store with Snarly. And there was nothing George could do to stop her. Maybe. He needed to plan. Fast.

He was not letting his woman get away from him tonight.

19

He’d successfully thwartedMurdoch Michael. Ronnie was still in shock he’d managed it. That was how he’d gotten her into his truck again. Shock.

Ronnie stared up at the house looming before her, its weathered grandeur both impressive and slightly intimidating. Okay, more than slightly. "George, this house is... enormous."

Why did one man need such a monstrosity? She had walked by his house a few times before—they weren’t that far from her apartment—but never had she really looked at it.

What had he been thinking?

The porch steps shouted in protest under their feet as George guided her up with one hand at the small of her back. His touch sent little shivers of awareness through her that she desperately tried to ignore. The man had commandeered her just that morning—and he hadn’t given her back yet.

Even though Murdoch had demanded he do just that. Only Ronnie telling her brother that they had some baby daddy details to work out and she would text him that she was okay later had kept her brother from cleaning his clock.

Murdoch was seriously becoming a bit too cranky lately.

He needed a good woman. She was going to have to find him one soon. Besides, her alien-baby would need cousins to play with, after all.

"It's a work in progress. And I’m doing the work when I can—I’ve just been busy, and the practice was more of a priority. But I’ll get the house finished as soon as I can—before the baby.” The lock stuck twice before finally giving way. "Watch your step. The entryway's a bit... rough."

Rough was an understatement. The foyer's hardwood floors were freshly sanded and smelled slightly of oak. They would be beautiful—when he was finished with them. A massive chandelier hung overhead, its crystals catching the light and throwing rainbow shadows across walls that couldn't seem to decide if they were cream or... was that avocado green?

"When was the last time this place was renovated?" Ronnie was seriously trying not to laugh at his expression right now. George in lawyer mode was very forceful and intimidating—and sexy, no denying that. Georgie surrounded by home renovation chaos was... a bit too adorable for her to think about. Sexy she could probably deal with, but adorable? Yikes.

"Parts of it? 1972. I’m sure of it. Some of it might be older. But it’s sound. Passed all inspections. Grady—one of the twins—is helping me when he can. I’ll get all of them out here this weekend to do the major projects. We are good at that kind of stuff. The kitchen's new, though. Come on."

She followed him through an archway, noting the careful restoration work on the wooden details. Someone—George?—had stripped away decades of paint to reveal the original craftsmanship on one side. The other side was still painted. She looked closer—those were height marks right there with long-ago names like Ruth, and Hester, and Wilbur. It was beautiful, even half-finished. This house had been filled with a family before. With children. It was the only thing that made sense.

She could just imagine little Ruth and Hester and Wilbur running around in vintage clothing, playing here, safe and sound and loved.

The idea was completely beautiful.

The kitchen, true to his word, was stunning. Gleaming stainless-steel appliances and granite countertops created a jarring contrast with the vintage charm of the rest of the house. And the tile work was beautiful. "This is... unexpected."

"A man has to have priorities." He opened the massive refrigerator, which looked like it belonged in a restaurant. "I thought you might be hungry. The baby?—"

A ripping sound stopped him. Ronnie turned. As a chunk of wallpaper as tall and wide as she was drifted down to the floor of what she suspected was a dining room nearby, but now had... file boxes piled everywhere. That man… one of a kind.

"Not again. I swear I put that back last week." He just looked so disgruntled.

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