Power Drilled (Roommates, #8)(36)

“I still think it should be a kid’s room.” I shrugged when they all looked at me. “I know I don’t get a vote, but I think it would be so much fun for a kid to have his own space up there. There could be a little table up against the wall where he could do art or homework. And shelves for his books and toys along one of the sloping walls. And that back wall, with all that white space, would be perfect for a mural with dragons or trains or something. Oh! A loft bed would give him more room to play.”

“A loft in a loft?” Jackson asked, and I nodded. “When we’re done with breakfast, why don’t you draw your vision for that space so we can see what you mean.”

“Me?” I didn’t know anything about interior design.

“Jackson said you’re good at drawing,” Reid said, and I blushed. I sincerely hoped that Reid didn’t know what Jackson had seen me draw.

I looked down at my nearly empty plate when I answered. “Okay, I’ll sketch it, but I’m no architect.”

“Neither are we,” Reid said. “The bottom line is that we’ve spent a lot of money to create that loft, so we need a good return on our investment. But we’ll take a look at your design.”

I gulped, hoping that I could show them what I envisioned in my head.



“Darn.” I tore a sheet out of Jackson’s sketch pad and crumpled it up. I was in the kitchen, using Reid’s makeshift desk. Jackson was doing something to prepare to hang the new cabinets that would arrive later today.

“At this rate, I won’t have any paper left,” he observed. “And did you just say darn?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m the freak of nature who doesn’t cuss.” My voice was pretty grumpy.

“I think it’s cute, actually,” Jackson said. “And I’m not like Hunter. I won’t press you about it.”

“Thanks.”

He was silent for a few minutes while I kept drawing. Finally, he spoke again. “I’m tired. After this house is done, I need a vacation.”

“I don’t blame you,” I said absently as I sketched what the mural on the back wall might look like. “You guys deserve some time off.”

“Not just time off, a real vacation. Like maybe Las Vegas. I haven’t been there in forever.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It is. And we could take a drive up to Lake Mead. Ever been there? And there’s that huge structure that holds back the water, but I can’t think of the name of it…”

“Hoover Dam,” I supplied automatically. When I was met with silence, I looked up. “That’s what it’s called.”

He grinned. “I know. I just wanted to make you say damn.”

Dang it, I’d walked right into that one. “I said D-A-M, not D-A-M-N.”

“Still sounds the same.” He had such a smug look on his face that I picked up one of my crumpled sketches and threw it at him. “Can you say it again?”

“No.” I tried not to dignify his little trick with much of a reaction, but it was hard not to laugh.

“Could you say it again if I get donuts tomorrow?”

“No.”

“The kind with custard in the middle?”

Ooo, that was tempting. “Okay.”

He pumped his fist triumphantly. “Let’s hear you say it.”

“Hoover Dam,” I said instantly.

He rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Garrison Dam. Oroville Dam. Monroe Dam. Cincinnati Dam.” Okay, I was making a few of those up, but it was fun to tease him.

Jackson just shook his head sadly. “You sure do know a lot of damn things.”

I just grinned. “I do indeed.”





14





PENNY





“Aunt Penny!”

A whole gaggle of kids surrounded me as I walked through the hotel lobby later that day. Most of them seemed to be my second cousin Betty’s kids—she had seven. Then cousin Dave’s twins were there, too. Evidently, Wednesday was the day the families with kids were checking in.

“Are you going to be the flower girl, Aunt Penny?”

I crouched down and addressed an adorable little girl who was clutching a toy rabbit. “It’s actually called a bridesmaid, Jenny.”

“Will you hold Bun-Bun?”

“Sure.” I took the ragged rabbit from her. “Good to see you, Bun-Bun.”

Jenny giggled, as did the other kids gathering around. “Not now. At the wedding.”

I shook my head sadly. “I think I’ll be holding flowers then.”

“Because you’re the flower girl?” Jenny’s brother Brandon asked.

“Nope, still a bridesmaid.”

“Will you look pretty in your dress?” Jenny wanted to know.

“I hope so.” I smiled at her when I answered, but as I straightened up, I realized it was actually true. I wanted to look pretty not so that Jeff would see me and realize what he’d lost, but for the triplets. Or at least for whichever triplet would accompany me to the wedding.

“Uncle Martin!” The kids spotted another one of my second cousins and ran off to greet him. Technically he wasn’t an uncle and I wasn’t an aunt, but in our family, that was what the youngest generation called cousins in the older ones.