Page 80 of Now and Then

I clap Easton on the shoulder. “Good thing you’ve got a week to figure it out, bro.” He’s really got no say in it once Sutton’s decided.

“Alright,” Easton says, “send me the information.”

Easton exits the house, and Sutton smiles at me. “I was just getting ready to go pick up lunch and bring it to you,” she says.

I wrap my hand around her back and pull her in for a kiss. Her lips taste like sugar. Most likely sour gummy worms, if I know my girl.

“It’s all good. I stopped by Ground Up to grab lunch for us and intercepted your order.”

There’s no real furniture in the house, so we pull out a ratty blanket and create a makeshift picnic right there in the middle of the living room.

She takes a bite of her grilled cheese. “This is so good.”

It’s then I notice the pink paint smudges on her chin, arm, and fronts of her leggings. “Did you lose a battle with the paintbrush today or what?”

She snorts, shoveling in another bite. “Something like that.”

“So, the pink wasn’t an accident, huh?” I raise both eyebrows.

She shakes her head. “It’s not pink. It’s blush.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” She mentioned it once, painting the bedroom pink. Most wouldn’t have believed her, but I’ve known Sutton long enough to know she hardly ever bullshit’s you—at least when there aren’t cards involved.

We eat quietly. Not hard to do with how little time to breathe she gives herself between bites. That’s one thing I love about Sutton—she’s always so put together and classy, but put food in front of her, and her inner trash raccoon comes out.

After lunch, we make our way into the bedroom. She’s so giddy to show me the color, and shockingly, I don’t hate it. “Wow, babe,” I say. “This looks great.”

She beams at my praise.

“And I admit it’s more a pinkish-tan than pink.”

Sutton rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the smile she’s trying to contain either. “Want to see the furniture I ordered?” she asks.

We lay out another blanket in the middle of the bedroom floor, and she shows me all the furniture she’s picked out on her laptop. It’s the perfect mixture of my rustic style and her modern romantic style, a lot of raw wood tones, mixed metals, and soft colors. I can’t contain my smile picturing how it’ll all come together.

“What’s that grin for?”

“Nothing.”

She doesn’t need to know exactly the life I’m picturing for us in this house. The life I’ve always pictured and one that seems like it’s finally coming true.

“Let’s talk about the rest of the house. Okay?” She pulls out her sketchbook.

She talks a mile a minute over the next hour, showing me her drawings for the other rooms. I love watching her in her element. She’s a damn good realtor, but it’s clear as day interior designing is where she really shines.

I stretch out on the blanket, head braced in my hand, watching her talk. Like a moth to a flame, I can’t resist reaching out and caressing her exposed ankle. She’s wearing a long sweater, checkered leggings, hair tied back in a wild ponytail, and a bare face.

“C’mere,” I say, unable to resist any longer.

“What?” She furrows her brow.

“It’s been too damn long since I’ve kissed you.”

Sutton tucks her bottom lip between her teeth. She scoots closer, mirroring my position.

“Still too far.” I wrap my arm around her and pull her to me. She yelps and has no choice but to throw her leg over my hip.

“That’s better.”