Page 30 of Sweet Trouble
Her earlier worries faded as excitement began to build in her chest.
“What about this nook?” she asked, heading toward a spot in the eaves they hadn’t looked at yet. “Do you think we could get a reading chair in?—?”
“—Jillian, wait,” Tripp yelled, moving lightning-fast across the attic.
The next thing she knew, his big arms were wrapped around her, and he was lifting her into the air.
Tripp’s embrace was so warm, and his arms were corded with thick muscle. It was no wonder that he’d been able to lift her like she was nothing.
But when the heat of his breath tickled her neck as he exhaled in relief, and the spicy scent of his aftershave surrounded her, Jillian stopped noticing everything else.
“Sorry,” he half-growled into her hair. “I didn’t mean to scare you. There’s nothing under that insulation but the plaster ceiling. You would have gone rightthrough it.”
“Oh,” she said, her addled mind taking a moment to catch up. “Um, thank you.”
He lowered her back to her feet, but his hands lingered on her arms for a moment.
“Last thing you want is another ceiling to repair,” he joked lightly.
But his blue eyes were so intense as he leaned toward her just the tiniest bit, almost like he wanted to kiss her.
A shiver of electricity shot through her, and it was all she could do not to wrap herself in his arms all over again. For a moment, her knees felt a little wobbly, and she leaned into him for support, her face turning up to his like a flower seeking the sun.
“Mama, Mama, Mama,” Posey’s little voice rose from the stairwell, accompanied by light footsteps.“Did you tell him our room is going to be pink?”
Tripp’s hands jerked from her arms like she was on fire, and Jillian took a quick step back, steadying herself with a hand on one of the rafters.
Thank goodness for Posey,she thought to herself, running a quick hand through her hair as her daughter scrambled up the last few steps.
ButI wouldn’t really have let him kiss me. Would I?
“Whoa,” Posey said, as she took in the attic. “It’s big up here.”
“Isn’t it?” Jillian asked her, relieved when her voice came out sounding pretty normal. “Tripp was just telling me that he thinks we can fit everything we want up here.”
“It’s kind of dark,” Posey said uncertainly.
“Oh, that’s easy to fix,” Tripp told her. “We’ll put insome ceiling lights and some spots, and you’ll be able to light the whole place up like a Christmas tree.”
Posey laughed and headed past her mother to Tripp, like a little moon being drawn into the Earth’s orbit.
“Can you make it pink?” Posey asked him, frowning.
“The light?” he asked.
“No, no, my room,” she said. “And Mari’s. We want our room to be pink.”
Tripp looked to Jillian for approval, and she nodded to him.
“I think we could make that happen,” he told Posey.
“Okay,” she said brightly. “Then this is good.”
Jillian felt a little more of the tension she’d been holding release.
“Are we ready to go downstairs and make a plan of action?” Tripp asked Jillian.
She nodded without meeting his eyes. The last thing she needed was for her knees to go weak again.
