Page 36 of Gracie Harris Is Under Construction

I keep waiting for this whole arrangement between Josh and me to go sideways, but it hasn’t yet. In fact, in the week since our first kiss on the front porch, things have only gotten better and hotter. Much hotter.

To keep things from getting too intense, Josh goes home every other night to his house.

This has the intended effect that we both get alone time and, in my case, the ability to process the significance of what’s happening.

It also has the effect of making us really happy to see each other in the morning.

Whether I wake up with him in bed next to me or not, the last seven days have all gone a bit like this:

Step one: ridiculously good sex in the morning.

Step two: write for three to four hours at The Drip (this must be done out of the house, or we revert right back to step one).

Step three: lunch together at the house and interviews with either Josh or journalists.

Step four: lazy afternoons spent reading while Josh finishes projects.

Step five: dinner, maybe a little TV, and then more sex.

Most of all, this new routine of ours feels so natural . Nothing in or about the last year has been easy for me. Everything has been a slog at some point, but not this. Whatever this is with Josh feels familiar and organic. Are we in the honeymoon phase? Absolutely. And I like it.

Somehow, my writing schedule hasn’t been disrupted by all of the distractions from Josh—the opposite, actually.

My mornings at The Drip have become my most productive hours of writing ever.

I’m starting to wonder if my frustrations with intimacy were making it hard for me to think clearly.

Because right now, I’m writing at a blistering pace that has me set to finish the first draft in less than ten days.

I’ve begun editing the first fifty pages to perfection to show Felicity.

The nature of Josh’s interview questions has changed, too.

We mostly spend our interview time together trying to get some of the standard get-to-know-you things taken care of.

Josh and I jumped into serious questions early on, so it feels a bit like we’re starting all over again.

It’s all far less one-sided now, too, with me trying to learn more about him.

Yesterday’s questions were a particularly fun attempt by us both to figure out each other’s weird quirks.

“Finish this sentence,” Josh said. “You can’t really know someone until…”

“You see them load a dishwasher,” I replied without a moment of hesitation.

“Really? That’s your answer?”

“It can be a scary look inside someone’s brain, Josh. What’s your answer?”

“You meet their family.”

“If you were invisible for one day, what would you do?” I asked.

“Probably go hang out with a bunch of wild animals up close. You?”

“My answer is in the future: watch people read my book.”

“What is your biggest pet peeve?” he asked.

“People who read their phones at the dinner table.”

“A hundred percent the same. One of the first things I noticed about you is how you would go for a long period of time without looking at your phone. You also misplace it more than anyone I’ve ever known.”

Car keys. Phone. Credit cards. If it’s small enough to fit in my cross-body purse, I will absolutely lose track of it a few times a day. He got me on that one. I decided to be bold with my next question.

“What is one thing you’ve thought about with us that hasn’t happened yet?”

He got off his stool, walked over, and said in the sexiest whisper I have ever heard, “Would you like me to tell you or show you?”

I will never look at the living room furniture the same way again.

I also know that this new routine of ours has an expiration date. The last week has somehow felt like forever and no time at all. At some point, the summer will end, and I will go back to work and Chapel Hill, and Josh will return to his company in some capacity.

A few days ago, I thought about spilling the details to my friends via the group text, but they would be blindsided by the development and ask a gazillion well-intentioned questions.

Jenny did get a cryptic note telling her to expect more details when I’m ready.

No surprise, she responded with an eggplant emoji.

For now, I just let this be my and Josh’s thing. For the first time in my life, I’m allowing myself to be in the moment and not worry about what’s down the road. Maybe that’s why it feels so damn good.

—

When I open the door and see Kendell coming up the sidewalk, I rush to give her a big hug. We’ve never met before, but I feel like I know her. Multiple people in town have told me they started reading my column because of her.

Her long blond hair is swept into a low ponytail, and her kind eyes only underscore her loud declaration of “I’m so glad to finally meet you in real life!”

James walks up behind her, and it’s hard to believe that I haven’t seen him since the day I arrived in town.

I suspect he had a sense to hang back—to give me time to settle in and to give this whole brother-as-handyman arrangement time to work out as well.

Whatever the reason, it was the right call.

“Obviously, Josh decided about twenty minutes ago that he had enough time to install a faucet in the upstairs bathroom before you arrived,” I say. “He’ll be down in a minute, I’m sure,” I say overly loudly so that he can hear us.

When James walks through the door, there is an unexpected exclamation of “Holy shit.” Granted we haven’t spent a lot of time together, but I’ve never heard the man curse.

He doesn’t strike me as someone who has profanity in his vocabulary.

It hits me that he hasn’t seen the house in five weeks.

Come to think of it, I’d probably say the same thing.

“You guys have transformed this place,” he says in total astonishment. “I didn’t expect this much progress.”

Kendell is equally mesmerized, moving swiftly from room to room in disbelief.

She runs her hand along the living room shelving that Josh installed.

Not only are many of the first-floor repairs complete, but there are now area rugs and furniture and even some frames on the walls.

The one hundred books I bought from Canopy Books are neatly placed on the shelves.

I stand off to the side of the living room, watching them admire all of this.

It really does look like a home. Almost. It won’t truly feel like home until my kids are running through the hallways, yelling for snacks, and hanging out on the porch with me.

“I appreciate you giving me some credit, James, but I’ve had very little to do with this—it’s all Josh,” I say. “I owe you big-time, on a few levels.”

As if on cue, Josh comes down the stairs, and my heart feels a quiet flutter. He gets to Kendell first and gives her a big hug, then follows that up with a bro hug for James. He comes over to me and wraps his hand around my waist.

“I told you that wouldn’t take too long,” he says with a smile.

Immediately, I can sense that we’re being watched. This thing between Josh and me feels normal to us, but I realize that James and Kendell haven’t seen us together before. The new inside of the house, me and Josh together—it must feel surreal to them.

“We should eat,” I say, and we all move into the dining room.

Tonight’s meal is a mix of fancy takeout from a French bistro in town with a few homemade appetizers that Josh and I managed to concoct in the kitchen.

Our culinary teamwork mostly consisted of Josh doing the labor while I occasionally chopped a vegetable and read out the recipe instructions.

I did take the lead on the Caesar salad.

My homemade dressing is famous among my friends.

The conversation flows easily as we set the table and grab drinks. As soon as we sit down, it’s apparent that Kendell is bursting at the seams.

“I really like the two of you together,” she says before dipping a piece of toasted baguette into the spinach dip. “James knew what he was doing.”

I cock my head to the side and look at James with inquiring eyes. He knew what he was doing?

“I’m sorry, James—did you set us up? Was this a long con all along?” I ask, pointing my salad fork at him accusingly.

“It’s not like that,” he says as his cheeks turn a shade of pink to indicate it is definitely like that . He rushes to fill the space before I can tease him more.

“Listen. You needed help with your house. Josh desperately needed something to do so he wouldn’t be tempted back to work. I knew you would get along, and I thought maybe there was a small chance you’d really hit it off.”

Kendell is staring at him with the look of a wife who wants to scream Bullshit! at her husband but ultimately decides watching him squirm is more fun.

“Are you serious right now?” Josh asks with fake incredulity.

I know Josh well enough at this point to know he is equal parts amused and annoyed. One more thing his big brother got right. As an only child, I can’t relate, but I’ve watched my own kids over the years and learned that your sibling being right about something is one of life’s great tragedies.

“You don’t get to be mad—even fake mad—at me,” James says in a paternal tone. “You might end the summer with lower blood pressure and a girlfriend, thanks to me.”

This makes us all chuckle, and when I turn to look at Josh a moment later, I see an expression on his face as he looks at James that makes me feel instantly warm.

It’s a look of gratitude, and his eyes are almost glassy.

Josh was not happy to be forced by James into his summer sabbatical, and yet it’s turning into something no one imagined was possible.

Well, except maybe James, as it turns out.

“How’s your book coming along?” Kendell asks me.

“Really good,” I reply with a huge smile of relief. “I only have about a week of writing left, max, and then I’ll edit for a little bit before it’s turned in to my publisher.”