Until You (The Redemption, #1)(13)

But it didn’t hurt to stay. At first it was out of obligation and then . . . then that atrocious lasagna and the aftermath made it worth it. And God, had it been good to laugh like that—snorting in front of a stranger and all. I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve felt that carefree.

As if Crew can read my thoughts, he shifts in his chair and looks at me. “I’m sorry. They have . . . wild imaginations.” His smile is disarming in a way that makes me want to shift farther away from him in my seat because Jesus, is he good-looking.

I take him in, much like I did that first day when I saw him lifting wood. But this time I do it with the knowledge of what his voice sounds like, what his laugh feels like, and the love that floods his eyes when he talks about his girls.

His dark brown hair is a mass of messiness, slight waves that look like his hand has permanently been running through it. His light gray eyes are observant, watching, and taking everything in, but even when he’s smiling, there’s a sense of something that I can’t quite put my finger on. Sadness? Loneliness? Discord? I don’t know, but it does nothing to lessen his attractiveness.

Because if I learned one thing tonight, it’s that the appeal I thought he had that first day I saw him has only grown after getting to know him just this little bit.

“Wild imaginations aren’t always a bad thing,” I say. “They’re sweethearts.”

“At times. And others, they’re more than a handful.”

“I can imagine. Double trouble, no doubt. But the fact they are best friends had to have helped them accept you coming out here for the summer.”

“Should I assume they complained to you then?” He chuckles.

“Not at all. There is a dance studio in town if that’s something you want to look into for Addy.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to her about it.” He takes a bite of an Oreo. “Should I worry about what else they said to you while they were at your place? I know my girls, and they definitely don’t have a filter.” I twist my lips and chuckle. He winces in reaction. “Do I even want to know?”

“I believe there was a mention about your uncle’s tenant being a pain in the you-know-what,” I say playfully, loving that I can give it back to him.

“And the night gets even better.” He sinks down in his chair and groans. “I promise it wasn’t meant—”

“I don’t care.” I wave a hand his way. “Tenants usually are nightmares. I get it. But I promise, I’m not one.” I put my hands under my chin and bat my lashes at him.

His laugh is full and rich. “I sense a but coming here.”

“Maybe more of a while.” I take an Oreo of my own and screw the top off. “Meaning, while I promise I’m not one, the cottage might have issues that are.”

“He didn’t fix anything on those requests you sent, did he?” Crew asks, and I assume the he he is referring to is his Uncle Ian.

“There were a lot of notes sent, so I’m not sure which ones you’re referring to, but probably yes, to some of them.”

“I apologize on his behalf. I was told everything was taken care of, but considering he’s starting to struggle with his memory, I should have checked in sooner with you.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t. My excuse is lame. I figured once the girls met whoever lived in your place, they’d never leave you alone. They’re kind of in your face like that, in case you haven’t noticed. That and, I figured if your issues weren’t fixed, you’d seek me out.”

I’ve never been more grateful for a darkened patio before as my cheeks flush from the images of him sweaty and shirtless flashing through my mind.

“I thought about it, but I figured I’d give you some time to settle before I became a pain in the you-know-what,” I say in the girls’ sing-song tone.

“I’m not going to live that down, am I?”

I lick the center of my Oreo. “Nope. I hold horrible grudges that include toilet-papering houses and forking lawns.”

“Forking lawns?” he asks through a laugh.

“How do I know that and you don’t?”

“We lived in Chicago. High-rises and no lawns, I guess?” He tops off both of our glasses. “What in the hell is forking lawns?”

“Well, you take plastic forks and stick them all over someone’s lawn.” I shrug. “Redemption Falls’ rival football team did it to the high school principal’s house before the big homecoming game last year. Something like five hundred forks. It was big news around here because it was a slow news day. Then again, all days around here are slow news days.”

“I’m sure that was fun to pick up.” He cringes. “Scratch that, because that makes me sound really old, doesn’t it?”

We both laugh, and ours is echoed by the girls inside laughing at something. He pauses to listen to the sound of them. The way his expression softens and his smile curves is seriously adorable.

“They’re welcome at my place anytime, Crew.”

He eyes me warily as if I don’t know what I’m committing to. “Be careful what you wish for.”

“Hey, so long as they think I have better breath than Ginny, I’m good.”

This time his laugh echoes around the covered patio. “Oh, God. They knew you a whole thirty minutes, and they actually went there?”