Page 11 of In Love with Lewis Prescott
Lewis’s gaze turns thoughtful as he looks at me. “I get it. I promise, if you let me do this renovation, I’ll bust my ass to make it exactly how you want it. I’ll run every single detail by you, no matter how small. No complaints whatsoever. You say jump, my response will always be, ‘how high?’”
I’m heartened at the confidence and conviction in his tone. Combined with his unwavering eye contact, it comes off so intense, so sincere. I believe him completely.
A few quiet moments pass as I cross my arms and gaze around the space. If I say yes to Lewis’s offer to fix up the house, I’ll be saved. I won’t have to shell out tens of thousands to fix Vlad’s mistakes and hire a new crew. Lewis will do it all for free, and the renovation will turn out exactly how I want it.
This time the wordyesdances on my tongue, but before I can say it, he speaks.
“If you say yes, I’m gonna need to give you something for letting me stay. You’re letting me hide out for the next three months, which is a million times better than that roach motel I was planning to hunker down in.”
I open my mouth to object, but he shakes his head.
“You’re saving me, Harper. I’m not going to let you do that for nothing.”
“Lewis, I’m not accepting money from you. You offering to fix and finish this renovation for free is payment enough.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and takes a step toward me, closing the space between us to just a couple of feet. It would be intimidating if he didn’t have the most playful smile on his face, like he’s more amused than frustrated at my stubbornness.
As we stand and stare at each other, I can’t help but chuckle at this stalemate.
Suddenly an idea pops in my head. “Okay, wait. There’s no way I’m taking your money, but if you’re hell-bent on giving away your cash, there’s this amazing nonprofit that I volunteer for. They’re grossly underfunded and always in need of donations.”
I tell Lewis about Glad You’re Here, how I started volunteering there in college and whenever I had free time at my old job, and how I’m planning to volunteer there more now that I’m not working.
“They provide services for immigrant and refugee families here in the Bay Area. They have a small office between Half Moon Bay and San Francisco. You can donate the money you wanted to give to me to them instead. Then we’ll have a deal.”
Lewis beams and steps closer before sticking his hand out. I shake it, relishing the warm feel of his hand, how his skin is somehow soft and firm at once.
“It’s a deal.”
“So we’re really doing this?” I say, my hand stilling in his.
“Yup. Just one thing—you can’t tell anyone I’m staying with you.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Of course I won’t.”
“I don’t plan on leaving the house much,” he says. “I don’t want to draw any attention to myself. I know that’ll make for us spending a lot of time together...”
“Well, whenever you annoy me, I’ll just head to San Francisco to check on my family,” I tease.
“I guess you’ll be spending a lot of time with them, then,” he jokes back. “Hey, would it be weird if I made another request?”
“Such as?”
“No one other than you and me can be in the house while I’m here. I just can’t risk someone recognizing me and giving away my hideout.”
“That’s completely reasonable. I promise that for the next three months, the only two people who will ever know that you’re staying in these luxury accommodations will be you and me.”
He visibly relaxes.
“You sure you’ll be okay hiding out here? It’s nowhere near as nice as your palace in LA,” I tease.
“This house is beautiful, Harper. Don’t sell it short.”
There’s a sincerity in his tone that softens me. It’s then that I notice our hands are still joined in the handshake.
One of his eyebrows quirks up along with the corner of his mouth. “Excited to move in with you, roomie.”
“Just don’t leave the toilet seat up and we’ll be fine,” I joke. But when we release our hands, I realize that I’m a little more excited than I should be.
