Page 149 of Now and Then

I pause, taking him in. A chenille blanket barely covers his frame. His hand hangs off the couch, fingers curled like maybe he fell asleep mid-thought.

The urge to wake him and send him off to our bed is at the very tips of my fingers. Quietly, I cross the room and lift the blanket tighter over his shoulders, smoothing it where it’s bunched near his ribs. I’ll let him be, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him freeze. His brow softens, like even fast asleep, he knows I’m here.

I set my keys down and slip into the kitchen, putting water on for tea. Easton says he isn’t a fan of coffee, but I remember he mentioned loving peppermint tea. Clearly, the man hasn’t visited Ground Up and had one of Navy’s drinks. She’ll change any coffee loather into a coffee lover with one sip.

The kettle warms, humming low, when tires crunch on the gravel. I inhale and open the door. Easton stands there mid-knock, the breeze pushing at his hair. “Hey,” he says, “thanks for letting me swing by.”

“Of course. Come in.” I step aside. “Hunter’s asleep on the couch, so try to be quiet-ish.”

He nods, glancing toward the living room. “I won’t stay long. Just wanted to run something by you.”

The kettle whistles behind me. Hunter shifts in his sleep. I dash to the kitchen to remove the water before it wakes the entire town. Easton follows, and I carefully pour water into mismatching mugs.

I mentally add ‘buy kitchen shit’ to my list. Along with ‘pick up table.’ After the events of yesterday, I’d done something I’ve never done—missed my delivery appointment for the new kitchen table.

Easton settles at the island in one of three stools. He sets a folder between us. I slide his mug over, the steam rolling from the top.

He studies me for a second, and his expression shifts. “You doing okay?”

I shrug. “Trying to be.”

He glances toward Hunter. “You two have a lot going on.”

I nod. “We do.”

He taps the counter with the folder. “But the house is looking good. You ready for the big reveal?”

“I am,” I say. “Aside from things like a kitchen table and actual dishware, the house is ready.”

“Is there a reason the curtains are all closed?” Easton gestures toward the back of the house. “The view is one thing I love about this place.”

I stifle a laugh. “You’d have to ask Hunter. He’s banned me from the backyard because of some secret project. I hoped it would be done before the open house, but it’s okay.”

“That’s alright. Yards rarely get completed at the same time as the house. Didn’t you mention the Weeks stopping by the party to check out your work? Something about a future project?”

My gut swirls. I’m hopeful they’ll like what they see, because I’m also hoping they’ll hire me to remodel their bookshop. If I can land that project, it would be something the whole town would see, which would help my business gain more traction. I take a few minutes and fill Easton in on the possible future of the Bradley Team Interior Design.

“You know,” he says, “Torn Pages could be a really great opportunity for you. Interior design for businesses is an untapped market in this area. It may not be what you imagined doing, but it’s something to think about. And I know that sometimes, what I plan on doing and what ends up happening can be drastically different. I learned quickly to go with it.”

“I keep hearing that lately.” I laugh. “It’s out of your control. Go with the flow. Let go.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

“Mmm . . . it’s a process, but I’ll get there. One step at a time, right? So . . .” I say, “not that I don’t love catching up, but if you don’t tell me what you really need soon, I might actually have a panic attack.”

This gets a full rumbling belly laugh out of him.

“I’ve decided to move to Suncrest Valley permanently and establish my roots.”

“Roots, huh? Meet someone new?” I ask.

“Nope.” He runs his hand across his jaw. “Unfortunately, dating and I are not on good terms. I’m beginning to think maybe the whole Fall in love, get married, and start a family has done passed me by.”

“That’s depressing and a load of bullshit.” I cross my arms and rest them on the counter. “It’s never too late to have the life you want.”

He smiles, eyes crinkling on his weatherworn face. “Maybe, but I’m so tired of being burned. It’s a wonder why I even bother anymore.”

“Maybe you should . . . go with the flow? You know, wear your heart on your sleeve even if it means it gets crushed another ten times. Because maybe it’s on the eleventh try that you’ll find your forever.”