Page 130 of The Things That Hold Us

“Logan?” I call out.

I have no clue what the layout of this house is like, so he could be anywhere.

“I’m down here.” he yells back.

I roll my eyes, because ‘down here’ could be anywhere for all I know.

I get to the bottom of the stairs, and my eyes go wide at what I see.

The layout is an open floor plan, with the same huge windows as upstairs, everywhere. The natural lighting in here is incredible.

I spot Logan in the kitchen, and make my way over to him.

He pulls me into him, and gives me a soft kiss, then he picks me up and sets me on the counter next to the stove.

I squeal.

“You enjoy picking me up, don't you?” I ask him teasingly.

He smiles, “I really do.”

“Did you change the sheets on the bed before we went to sleep?” I ask him, draping my arms over his shoulders.

“I did.” he smiles, “If you would have seen what was there before you would have refused to sleep here. Even though you were completely knocked out.”

I giggle, then look around. He’s in the kitchen, but there's no food cooking.

“What are you doing in here?” I ask him.

Logan scratches the back of his neck, “Uh, I was going to make you breakfast. But there's no food. Or electricity.”

I throw my head back laughing. Of course he would bring me to a house with no power and no food.

Hopping off the counter, I grab his hand.

“Come on; let's go find food. I’m starving.”

Chapter Twenty Eight

pinky promise

Over the course of the next few days, I spend every second I can in Logan's arms, never wanting to be without them.

We work on getting my shop put together. Logan installed all the shelving and cases, and even built a few extra pieces for me that turned out absolutely beautiful.

Cassie and I went shopping for knick knacks to decorate with, like rugs, plants, and vintage lamps.

Everything is coming together.

It has a vintage/grunge vibe, and I’m here for it.

The rug I picked is full of rustic reds, oranges, and tans, with little tassels hanging off of the edges, and fits perfectly in the center of the shop.

There's plants hanging from the ceiling and sitting on shelves, and string lights lining the ceiling as well.

We’re almost done for the day, when Cassie walks up to me, and everyone stops what they're doing to come over.

“Here.” Cassie says, holding out a wrapped box for me to take.

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