Page 45 of Where Sea Meets Sky

“I didn’t want to waste the paint,” she said in a small voice.

He laughed and pulled her gently to her feet, kissing her forehead. “Go lie down in the bedroom, sweetheart. You’re clearly very tired and you should rest. I’ll be in in a minute.”

“Okay.” She felt a surge of gratitude that he was there to take care of her and gave him a tight hug before going upstairs to their bedroom. She took a quick shower to wash off all of the paint that had gotten on her body during the course of the day and then got into a pair of soft pajamas and climbed into bed.

She could hardly believe how tired she was. She felt as if her bones were made out of lead, and she sank down into the mattress as if it was a cloud. Her fatigue was no doubt from all of the nesting—not only the physical work, but also the emotional rollercoaster of going from manic excitement to disappointment and frustration so quickly.

Before long, she was sound asleep, dreaming contentedly of her and Grayson’s kitchen being fully painted and looking chic and cozy.

“Hey, sweetheart.” It was Grayson, shaking her gently awake. “It’s time for dinner.”

Her eyelids fluttered open. “Hi. Dinner? But how are we going to cook when the—” Her voice trailed off as she began to smell the wonderful aromas of garlic and Italian seasoning. And tomato sauce. And meatballs. And bread.

She sat up eagerly, taking another inhale. “What am I smelling?”

“Come with me,” he said, grabbing her favorite soft bathrobe from where it was lying on the back of an armchair and holding it out to her. “I have a surprise for you.”

Curious, she slipped out of bed and put on her bathrobe. He led her around the side of the bed to where a soft blanket was lying on the floor, along with lit candles, plates, pillows, and a bag of takeout.

“A picnic!” she cried eagerly. “Oh, Grayson, this is so romantic of you.”

She saw the logo on the side of the takeout bag and realized that the food was from her favorite Italian place. She suddenly felt a voracious craving for breadsticks which she couldn’t wait to satisfy.

He helped her sit down comfortably on the floor, supported by pillows and the bed frame, and then he started to dish out the food.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She smiled at him as he piled spaghetti, juicy meatballs, and a cheesy garlic breadstick onto her plate. “This smells incredible.”

“I know it’s your favorite place,” he told her. “I thought you needed a little pick-me-up after how stressful your day was.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “It wasn’t really stressful until the end. I got in over my head. It was foolish of me, and I wish I’d slowed down and made myself think it all through. It’s not like the paint was going to expire in a week or something!”

He chuckled. “You got excited and you wanted to realize your vision right away. You’ve been so squirrelly about this living room getting done, I can understand how you didn’t want to wait to paint the kitchen.”

“But I should have asked you how you felt about it,” she groaned. “And now we’ve got two rooms we can’t really use. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things inconvenient for you. I love that you bought my favorite takeout, but I know it’s because you can’t use our kitchen to cook.”

He kissed her forehead. “It’s okay. I think those cupboards are going to look very nice—eventually. But I think both our lives will be a lot easier if you slow down on your projects. Just a little bit at a time, okay? I want to make sure you’re getting in enough rest before the baby is born.”

“And I want to make sure you stay sane.” She laughed and twirled her fork in her spaghetti. “Don’t worry, I think I’ve finally gotten all my nesting urges out of my system. I want to just rest and relax and enjoy the house.”

“Our very clean, very organized, mostly repainted house.” He kissed her, grinning.

“Exactly.”

They shared a warm smile and began to eat their food together. Alexis felt sleepy and contented, as if she’d just finished running a long race and it was now time to lie down and rest.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Ryan sat back in an armchair in his father’s living room, staring at the screen of his phone. The screen was dark, but he was looking at it as intently as if it was covered with words or pictures.

It was Sunday, and he hadn’t called or texted Faith since their date on Friday night. He’d kept wanting to the day before, and he’d had to stop himself multiple times. He didn’t want to bombard her with his interest, and he was determined to play it cool and not come off as clingy.

This has definitely been long enough, though,he thought with a smile.

His heart beat faster in his chest when he thought about calling her. He wondered what she was up to, and how she was feeling. Did she want to go out on another date as much as he did?

He dialed her number and listened to it ring twice. Then she answered the phone.

“Hey, Ryan!”

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