Page 18 of To Hold and Protect

“You’re leaving?”

“As soon as the house is sold, and that won’t happen in the condition it’s in.”

His gaze scanned the room. “You need a contractor.”

“Got one. Buddy Napier.”

“He’s good.”

“That’s what Skylar said, but I’m doing as much of it myself as possible, so it’ll take a little longer. I’m demolishing the kitchen right now, and that’s not as easy as they make it look on those DIY shows. Then I have to do the bathrooms.” Turning away from her, he strode into the kitchen, and she followed him.

“Haven’t gotten much done, yeah?”

She put her hands on her hips. “These cabinets don’t come down easily.”

“That’s because they’re thick oak, not like the flimsy cabinets they’re putting in houses today.” He picked up the sledgehammer she’d left on the floor, lifted it over his head, and with one downward sling, took down the cabinet next to the one that her muscles still hurt from demolishing.

“Um...feel free to keep going.” There was that almost twitch of his lips again. One day she was going to make that mouth full-on twitch. She stood to the side, amazed at how fast he demolished the rest of the cabinets, and as he did, the muscles in his back, shoulders, and arms expanded and flexed. She brushed her fingers across her mouth to make sure she wasn’t drooling.

As soon as he finished, he dropped the sledgehammer. “Gotta go.” He looked down at the floor, then lifted his gaze to somewhere over her shoulder. “You can come back over if you want. You should.”

Oh, she did want, but she wanted him to meet her conditions even more. “So, my conditions?”

“Agreed to. After she gets home from school, Andrew will bring her over and stay while she’s here.”

“Andrew’s welcome to stay.” He didn’t really know her, and she respected that he wouldn’t just agree to send Everly over without someone he trusted.

“No on seeing my paintings, but I’ll give you a tour of our house.”

“Nope, I want all my conditions met.” She hadn’t had this much fun since...she wasn’t even sure since when. He’d never admit it, but she sensed that he was enjoying their sparring as much as she was. “Forget it. I’ll come back with you. When I left, they were talking about the bomb you dropped that your aunt was an artist. What was that about?”

Chapter Nine

“It was about nothing,” Parker said, and even to his own ears, it sounded like he’d growled the words. This woman with her questions and conditions. And why was he even negotiating with her? Well, why was he even asking that question, because he did know the answer. Going toe to toe with her stirred his blood.

She made him say things he’d never intended to say. Not that it was exactly her fault that he’d let that little nugget about his aunt slip out, but it wouldn’t have if they hadn’t been having that creative minds conversation, which had happened because of her. That was a secret he’d kept all these years, even though his aunt demanding he not tell his brothers about the time he spent with her had forced him to divide his loyalty between her and them. It was one reason he’d stopped talking for years unless he had to...too afraid the secret would slip out.

He’d wanted to tell his brothers their aunt wasn’t as bad as they thought in some ways and worse than they could imagine in others. She’d been so mean and spiteful to them, that no matter what he said, they’d always hate her. He didn’t blame them.

As an adult he could look back and see how their aunt had manipulated him, and now he wished he’d told them everything. They’d deserved his loyalty, not her. That was something he still felt guilty about, and one of the reasons he’d fled to France as soon as he graduated. He’d been drowning under the press of her thumb and her secrets, secrets that left him feeling dirty.

She’d died three years after he’d left home, and even though he’d shared a love of art with Aunt Francine, all he’d felt was relief that she was gone. All the lies and secrets would be buried with her. His brothers had arranged a funeral but only because the town expected it. Left to them, there would have been no mention of her passing, no pretending she was going to be missed. As for him, he’d refused to come home for the service.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” His gaze roamed over her face. He’d gotten her freckles wrong on his painting. He needed to go to his studio.

“My conditions. Are we agreed? And why are you staring at my nose?”

“I wasn’t.” He totally was, but he wasn’t about to admit he was counting and memorizing the placement of her freckles. “Fine, I agree.” He’d only said that to distract her from his staring at her, but he should have negotiated. Only agreed to Everly spending time with her and a tour of the house.

He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want her in his studio, other than it seemed too personal. That didn’t make a lot of sense. He wasn’t an artist who had to work in secret, and he let his family, including Skylar and Harper, in anytime they wanted.

“When?” she asked.

“Your tour of the house?”

“And your studio.”

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