Page 111 of Make It Last

“And I love you,” she interjected softly.

“I’m a commitment guy. It’s just my personality.” She nodded, almost solemnly. “So I don’t see any reason to put it off. You’re staying in Willow Brook, and your parents need your rental over the holidays.”

A smile broke across her face, her eyes bright. “You’re right.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Sure as the sun rises,” she said. “I know I love you, and I want this.” She clapped her hands once. “I need to look around. I’ve seen it, but now I’m moving in.”

“Did you build this?” she asked as we began to meander through.

I chuckled. “I did a lot of the finish work. It was a project somebody else started and then ran out of funding for. I bought it from Tate.”

“He’s a little wheeler and dealer, isn’t he?” she teased.

“He’s savvy. Let’s put it that way.”

The exterior had already been finished when I bought it. Inside, the sheetrock and paint were done, but I installed the kitchen cabinets and the flooring. Hardwood ran through the majority of the house, with tile in the kitchen, bathrooms, and the combination laundry room and mudroom.

Downstairs was an open living and kitchen area with windows facing the mountains. On clear days, when the light hit just so, you could even catch a glimpse of Cook Inlet in the distance. Off the side of the kitchen sat the laundry room, which doubled as a mudroom with its own side entrance, and a bathroom tucked beside it. Mudrooms, usually a side or back entrance where outdoor gear was stored, were basically a requirement in Alaska if you valued your sanity. Snow and mud had a way of following you inside.

Upstairs were two bedrooms, including the main suite. It faced the same mountain view. The bathroom was generous. Tate had teased me about that when he saw it. At the time, I had just recovered from a dislocated shoulder I’d gotten on a not-so-serious fall while firefighting, and I had developed a deep appreciation for hot water and long soaks in a tub.

“This is awesome,” Ava said. “I can take a bath now.”

“You couldn’t take a bath?”

“Not while I was waiting for my stitches to heal. It was tragic.” She planted her hands on her hips. “A very big deal. Where did you put the litter box for Growly?”

“Laundry room.”

“Perfect.” She paused and looked at me carefully. “Are you going to be territorial about your space?” She started moving toward the stairs, intent on checking on Growly.

“Ava.” She stopped and turned to face me. “I like my house, but I like you more. You can do whatever you want here. I know people say my house is yours and so on and maybe don’t really mean it.” I brushed my thumb along her jaw. “In this case, I mean it. I’m not being casual.”

This woman, who I had once carried down a mountain on my back, stared up at me with her sparkling gaze. Just then, Growly let out one of his gravelly little meows from downstairs. Ava leaned up to give me a quick kiss before hurrying downstairs. She scooped the cat up, launching into a full house tour with him in her arms. I leaned back against the sectional, my hips resting against the cushion.

My heart felt so full it was almost uncomfortable. This was home. Not the place or the view. Ava.

A little while later, after she finally finished putting away her belongings, I reached for her hand. “Come here, sweetheart.”

She stepped closer. Her ponytail was half falling down, strands of hair escaping everywhere. I smoothed her messy hair back from her face. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I am too.” As she looked up at me, her brows arched, and a slow, sly smile curled at the corners of her mouth. “Should we… I don’t know… christen something?” She gestured toward the kitchen counter. “That seems like a starting point.”

I chuckled and tugged her into my arms. “Oh, sweetheart,” I murmured. “We can christen whatever you want.”

Chapter Fifty-Four

Ava

Or every room

Tanner did, in fact, go along with my request, and we christened the kitchen counter. When I asked him if we needed to christen every room to banish any ghosts, he pointed out that no one had ever lived here but him.

Somehow, I liked that this place had only been his. Not because I needed it to be mine and only mine, but because of what Tanner had said. He was a commitment kind of guy, and I was a commitment kind of girl.

This space would hold that love for us. Growly determined within the first few hours that the front window was the best spot in the house. It stretched all the way to the floor, and he could sit there watching the birds, premium entertainment for him. He was entranced.