Accidental Shield (Marriage Mistake #6)(69)

“It’s everything you drew, and then some,” I say, amazed she could teleport the image in her head so clearly to my house. “I liked it then. Like it even more in the flesh.”

She grimaces slightly. “The other room isn’t exactly like I drew it. I took some liberties there. Come on.”

Val leads the way out of the room and down the hall. I follow, stepping around her as she opens the door.

I mentally prepare myself. This could be the overdone one.

I truly hadn’t paid that much attention to everything she’d picked out.

“Let’s see it,” I tell her.

“Okay. Take a deep breath.”

I fill my lungs and puff up my cheeks with this big, exaggerated breath so she laughs, then step into the room.

The air I’d been holding releases as I take it in. “Shit. I’m impressed.”

“You mean it?” she asks.

“Damn right I do.” My eyes trace over everything she’s done, clearly more eclectic and intensive than the first room.

The poster bed has white sheer curtains tied back on each post, and the bedding is white, with coral and pale-blue throw pillows. The pictures on the walls are ocean landscapes. The lamps beside the bed have tin shades, with seashell shapes cut out around the base.

Again, she’s outdone herself, making the room come alive in this quiet subtlety that hits you between the eyes when you focus.

The palm plants in the corners, the wicker trunk at the foot of the bed, a bench beneath one window, with a bookcase beside it...seems like it belongs here. Every last bit of it, and it’s a kinder, more thoughtful touch than anything I could’ve dreamed up in a thousand years.

Along the other wall, there’s even a white dresser with an oval mirror that has faint starfish etched around the edges. “I can see why this room’s your favorite. Looks like a nice place for an artist to unwind.”

“Well, as soon as I saw this poster bed, I knew I had to change up my picture.”

“Whatever, Miss Modesty. You’re talented as hell. I’m just glad I got the works.” Smiling, I walk over, smoothing my hand over the plush, smooth comforter. “Drawing, design, and decorating. Couldn’t have done better if I’d hired a pro.”

When I look up, she’s flushed.

Her cheeks glow rosy pink, just like the day we shared that kiss. It almost stings to stick my hands in my pockets, trying to hide the insta-wood I get just seeing her. Especially when she’s at her sweetest and shyest.

“You did good, Val. Did me right.” Yeah, this is where I need to shut my fool mouth.

“Actually, I do have one small favor to ask,” she says, standing next to the trunk near our knees.

“What’s up?” I ask. She seems nervous.

“Could I maybe just...use this room? Move my stuff up here? Then I wouldn’t have to take over your bed anymore and you could have the master bedroom back.”

I consider asking if she’d be more comfortable downstairs, where she’s been, but I don’t because I already know the answer. Her eyes are twinkling.

“Consider it done. If you think you’ll be more comfortable up here, then it’s where you belong.”

A weird second of doubt flicks through me.

Hell, I should be happy she’s moving out of my room, giving up my bed, but somehow, I’m just not feeling a reason to smile. It’s like a mad, screwed up part of me wants to keep her there, when I’ve got no damn right.

It’s too late, anyway.

She practically skips across the room, jumps up, and then throws her arms around my neck just like she did the other day while we were swimming. Except now, my hands grab her around the waist and wind around her hips, holding her up.

“Thank you!” she sputters. “It’s such a small thing, but it’s a shiny new room for my new brain. I guess I just...I’d feel more at home in a place where no one’s ever lived.”

“It’s fine. I’m here to help, and this home is yours too as long as you’re here.” Let’s be real. I hate the idea of her not being here.

My hands seem to know it better than any other part of me, sauntering lower, softly cupping her ass. The moment they do, it’s just like in the water, this electric charge between us.

Heat. Lust. Obsession.

No fucking chill whatsoever.

Val’s eyes widen, lock with mine, and there’s this full second where we both go breathless.

“Dad? Valerie?”

She gasps softly and releases my neck, stepping back.

“Up here!” I shout back to Bryce.

She spins around and walks over to the bench.

The thud of my son’s footsteps stop abruptly at the doorway.

“Whoa! Now I get why it took days to get it right. This looks awesome!” Bryce says, an excited laugh falling out of him. Spinning around, he shoots down the hall. “Gotta see the other room!”

She gives me an easy smile.

“See? Now you’ve got the approval from the real judge,” I tell her. “Bryce is a terrible liar when he hates something.”

“I’m glad. I feel like I’ve wanted to design a room like this for years,” she says quietly.

“Cross it off your bucket list, babe. It’s done,” I say.

Bryce darts back in the room a second later, talking a hundred miles per hour about how much he loves the new décor. He approves of sharing the upstairs bathroom after hearing she’s moving into this room.