Page 20 of Sunny Skies Ahead
This time, I was going there for myself.
I’d double checked my laptop bag before I left, making sure I had all of my sticky notes, notebooks, laptop and charger, the pencil for my tablet—everything a brand new administrative assistant could need.
As I pulled up to the charming white farmhouse, I let out a small gasp at the view beyond.
I’d been too distracted in the few times I’d been here, including the wedding, to really take in the scenery. I was certain I’d never seen a farm as gorgeous as this one. The lush pasture stretched out into the valley, the Washington mountains in the backdrop. I knew the barn was just down the hill opposite the pasture, and that it overlooked a gap in the forest that showed the mountain passage in all its glory. The three therapy horses—Memphis, Chesty, and Reckless—were grazing in the pasture nearest the farmhouse.
I slowly got out of my car, transfixed on the horizon beyond. To my right, the chickens squawked merrily in their fenced-off area.
Watford was gorgeous, but in some ways, it had nothing on Winding Road. How Kameron was able to snag this perfect piece of land would remain a mystery.
“You made it!”
I whirled around to see Kameron descending the steps of the farmhouse.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
Kameron was wearing his classic jeans and t-shirt pairing, but I’d either forgotten how good he looked in green, or simply hadn’t prepared myself for what the sight of him was going to do to me. I looked down at my denim overalls and white t-shirt, feeling slightly overdressed.
Couple his incredible physique with the excited grin on his face, and I was really about to lose it.
I didn’t know how I’d convinced myself doing an overnight here would be fine.
With Kameron looking like that, and my head a jumbled mess of feelings I couldn’t untangle, the night was sure to be a disaster.
“Hi,” I said, smiling back at him. “Thanks for letting me come by for a few days.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Kam said. “It’ll be good for you to see everything before you work remotely most of the week.”
I smiled and adjusted the strap of my bag over my shoulder, hitting the lock button on my keys.
“So, am I sleeping in the farmhouse?” I said, gesturing to my bag.
“About that,” Kameron said sheepishly. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I might have made another small infrastructure investment.”
“An infrastructure investment?” I repeated. Kameron nodded, gesturing for us to turn around. There was a small natural incline built into the hill that descended past the chicken coop.
“Trust me,” Kam said, heading down what felt like a natural staircase leading down the hill. It was only a few more steps before the tiny house appeared. My jaw hit the floor as I took in the structure and I whirled towards Kameron, who was blushing.
“You built a tiny house?” I practically squealed. Before leaving Watford, and before I knew my Nana had left her land to me, including the farmhouse, I’d dreamed about building a tiny house in my Nana’s backyard. I loved the appeal of living in a small, minimalist space where every design feature, every nook and cranny, had a purpose.
“Ta-da,” Kam said weakly, pulling a small key out of his pocket. I took it from him, my face still shell-shocked as we walked towards the front door. The house had wooden paneling with black accents, a small front porch, a black door, and several windows, including what looked to be a skylight on the far side. I opened the front door and gasped.
The interior was something out of a Pinterest dream. We entered the kitchen, which was surprisingly spacious for a tiny home. A lofted bed rose above the living room seating area with a built-in desk along the far wall. There was a smallcouch, and just off the kitchen was the bathroom, complete with a small shower.
And, to top it all off, the small wall behind the small vertical fridge boasted a built-in book shelf. I walked over to it, my eyes immediately scanning the titles.
“I originally had the idea to install a tiny house when Abbie and Connor got back together,” Kameron’s voice brought me back to the present moment.
“I figured they might want more privacy than the farmhouse can provide. So, I reached out to a local builder, and now we have this guy,” he said, knocking his knuckles against the wooden shelves. “The idea was to rent it out as an Airbnb eventually, but right now, it’s yours.”
“What?” I said, still running my fingers along the wooden bookshelves built into the wall of the home.
“You can spend the night here, as opposed to the farmhouse, if you’d like.”
“It’s. . . Kameron, this is beautiful.”
Kameron stood against the wall, leaning his full weight into it.
