Page 24

I find Bryan in the kitchen, forearms coated with sawdust, sleeves rolled up as he sands down a wooden shelf. Pausing in the doorway, I watch him for a moment before I clear my throat.
"Found something interesting."
He doesn’t glance up. "Good for you."
"It’s about the house." That gets his attention. He slows his movements, gaze flicking toward me.
I lift the binder. "Grandma’s renovation plans."
His brows pull together slightly as he wipes his hands on a rag. "Oh." His eyes drop to the binder, and for a second, he just stares at it. Then, finally, he nods toward it. "What’s in there?"
I step closer, flipping it open, angling it toward him so he can see. "Ideas. Sketches. She wanted to fix up the porch. Repaint the place. Make the backyard more inviting."
His jaw shifts, something flickering behind his eyes. I press on. "We could do it. Together."
That gets a reaction. His brows lift, a slow, sceptical tilt of his head. "We?"
I roll my eyes. "Yes, Bryan. We."
His lips twitch, not quite a smirk, but close. Then he leans back against the counter, crossing his arms. "And why exactly would I do that?"
I blink at him. "Because it was important to her."
Something shifts in his gaze, but he doesn’t look away. I force myself to hold it.
Then, after a beat, he exhales through his nose. "You really want to do this?"
"I do."
Another pause. Then, finally, he nods. "Fine."
I blink. "Fine?"
He shrugs, like it’s no big deal, like I didn’t just expect an argument. "For her," he says simply.
Something warm unfurls in my chest. I wasn’t expecting him to agree. At least, not this easily.
I glance down at the page we’re both looking at, pointing at one of the sketches. "She had some interesting ideas."
He tilts his head. "Like?"
I smirk. "She wanted to paint the shutters bright blue."
His brows shoot up. "Seriously?"
I laugh. "She called it ‘coastal charm.’"
Bryan shakes his head. "That’s... bold."
"You hate it already, don’t you?"
His lips press together, trying not to smirk. "I hate that I can already see you fighting me on it."
I grin. "Maybe."
His gaze lingers on me for a second longer before he shakes his head and turns back to his shelf.
I watch him for a beat before I exhale, tucking the binder against my chest. Maybe. Maybe is enough for now.