Page 45 of Take This Heart (Windy Harbor #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

PAINT HER DREAMS

MILO

The last time we slept at my place was a few weeks ago, when Goldie got drunk at The Cozy Palette. I’m still laughing about how freaking funny and adorable she was.

Every night since, we’ve stayed at her place.

It’s a huge house, and once Everett let me know he wasn’t oblivious to me sneaking in and out and that I was more than welcome to stay, I’ve done just that.

I love being with her dad and grandmas. Camden’s moved in now too, so it’s the most people I’ve lived with.

I love Goldie’s family and enjoy being in the big, fat middle of them, but I’m starting to wish we had our own place.

I think about it all the way to Minneapolis.

That night, the bed is too big without her.

My penthouse has never been what I’d call cozy, but now it feels cold and sterile. The sheets don’t smell like Goldie’s shampoo, and she’s not curled against my side, her leg draped over my thigh.

I glower at the ceiling, arm heavy over my forehead, and sigh.

Who knew one night apart could suck this bad?

I check the time on my phone. 10:40 p.m. I should’ve called her an hour ago, but my meetings went late. I do it anyway.

“Hey, Mildie,” she answers, her voice like honey.

My chest loosens and I grin into my dark room. “Hey, Golo. You sound good. You in bed?”

“Yes, missing you.”

“Same. Guilty.”

Her voice is soft. “Are you still coming home tomorrow?”

I shift on the bed. “Yes, and it can’t be soon enough. Without you here, everything feels both too loud and too empty. I’m missing my home…which is where you are.”

“Milo,” she says sweetly. “I know what you mean. It’s been the longest day here without you.” Her voice drifts.

I wait until her breathing evens out, and I lie there for a few minutes, listening to her breathe and thinking about how hard she works before I hang up.

Frankly, I’m shocked that she’s not thrilled to have a night to herself. She’s gotta be exhausted.

The pavilion is finally done. It is stunning. I’m proud of how it turned out, but I’ve gotten the most joy watching Goldie fall in love with it.

I’m happy that the pavilion will be more her baby.

Because even after endless days of wrangling contractors, finalizing herb garden placements, and hanging mirrors just so in the restaurant bathrooms, or any other list of never-ending projects she has to do, she climbs into bed beside me like I’m the one she’s been waiting for all day.

I can’t wait to build her art studio, a mini replica of the pavilion, that can be all hers.

The restaurant opens next week. When Goldie’s not racing around putting the final touches on the restaurant with Camden, she’s working on the area surrounding the pavilion.

Tully has worked alongside her, building a winding brick pathway, and she’s planted an array of bushes, perennials, and bulbs that will be magnificent next spring.

She has a bottomless well of energy that is addictive to watch, and it’s impossible to not be inspired by her.

I get back to Windy Harbor the next evening around seven. The air is crisp today. Yesterday was eighty degrees and today it’s fifty. You never know if you’ll have summer or fall or even winter this time of year. All I want to do is find Goldie.

When I find her, she’s crouched by the edge of the dock…talking to an otter.

I blink a few times, thinking sleep deprivation may have broken me, but nope.

It’s still there.

Goldie’s in frayed jeans and a thick orange sweater, her work boots damp. She carefully moves to sit, her feet dangling off the dock, as she chatters in a singsong voice to the sleek creature floating on its back.

I walk toward her quietly, hoping I don’t scare the otter off, but he just blinks up at me like I’m interrupting their moment.

I know, buddy, I want her all to myself too.

She turns and beams when she sees me. “Yay! You’re back! I would be hugging you so hard right now…I just don’t want Orion to swim off without you meeting him.”

“Orion?”

“Yes! Remember I told you about the otter who always comes through? He’s early this year.” She makes space on the dock for me and I carefully sit down. “I usually don’t see him until the winter, but he showed up this morning and we’ve been chatting for at least twenty minutes. Isn’t he adorable?”

“I don’t know why I didn’t believe that he actually came to see you. I should’ve. Look at you. I’d want a sighting of you if I was an otter too.”

She giggles. “I feel like it’s a good sign that he came early. Like he’s telling us it’s all gonna be okay. It’ll all work out.”

“Yeah? Orion is prophetic?”

She nods. “I think so.”

I stare at the creature. “What say you, great oracle? Is it all going to work out?”

Orion does a little flip onto his stomach and then returns to his back, his little paws tucked up.

Goldie gapes at me. “See what I mean?”

“I do! Let’s ask him another question. Should Goldie be mine forever?”

Orion repeats his move and Goldie covers her mouth with her hands, barely covering her squeal. Her eyes are shining when she looks at me.

“Wow. I like this guy.”

“Isn’t he great? But you didn’t need to waste that question on our little oracle here. Don’t you know that I’m yours forever already?”

I grin. “I’ve hoped that you are. We talk about love a lot, but we haven’t talked about forever as much.”

“I’m yours forever.”

“I’m yours forever too.” I lean in and kiss her, and Orion lets out a long squeak.

We break apart laughing.

“Well, that wasn’t very nice,” I tell him. “You look like a wet slipper.”

“He’s majestic.”

“Smug.”

“Takes one to know one,” she says.

I poke her side and she jerks, too ticklish to be still.

“I’d be careful if I were you. Don’t judge. He remembers faces. Oh, and did you know otters hold hands when they sleep? I love that.”

I look at her. Sunlight streaks through her golden hair and her cheeks are pink from the chill. Her eyes are full of wonder. I love her.

“I hold your hand when we sleep,” I tell her.

“Hmm. Yeah, you do. I guess I will keep you forever.”

Orion ducks under and disappears with a flick of his tail, and Goldie sighs.

“Come back soon,” she calls.

And then she gets up and holds up her hand, ready to pull me up.

“Now I can hug you properly,” she says.

“Will that be enough? It’s hard to follow an otter.”

She laughs. “Only if you kiss me too.”

We kiss until she’s melting into me, her hands tugging on the hair that’s grown out a lot.

I hear a loud truck and break the kiss, excited for her to see my surprise. She doesn’t know I commissioned artists to take my mini sculptures, the ones I made for her park model, and turned them into life-size pieces. They’ll live here where I envisioned, a piece of both of us.

“I better talk to these guys,” I tell her.

“What are they delivering? I didn’t have any deliveries on the schedule.”

“You’ll see,” I say, grinning.

Once I’ve directed the guys on where to take the sculptures, they get to work.

Goldie gasps when she sees what they’re carrying. She sees the marigold first and then the sun.

“Wait…is that—?” Her whole face lights up.

I help the crew position them, checking with her to make sure they’re where she wants them, and she just nods, blinking back tears.

They’re beautiful. Even better than I hoped. Art tucked into nature, just like she wanted.

“Milo,” she says, her voice cracking. “They’re perfect.”

I move toward her and pull her back against my chest.

“This is why you were in Minneapolis?”

I lean my chin lightly on her head. “I gave the final approval online last week and then went to see them in person yesterday.”

She turns in my arms and buries her face in my chest. Her face is splotchy when she looks up and I brush a kiss against her pouty lips.

“You make me feel like all the parts of me that are too much or too weird are exactly right,” she says.

“I’m glad because you are just right. You’re exceptional.”

“I feel like there needs to be a plaque in the middle of all the other plants I’m going to surround this place with…and maybe a bench. And the plaque will say something like: Milo Lombardi Steals My Heart Every Day. Or maybe Milo Lombardi’s Grand Gesture.

I laugh. “I’d be proud of either one of those. I especially like the first one.” I kiss her again. “I intend on stealing your heart every day…”

She takes my hand and we walk closer to the sculptures. Her fingers trail along the smooth steel like she’s touching magic.

“If you want them shifted at all, we can move them. Any direction, any spot. They’re yours. If you want them in your yard one day, we can move them there.”

“They’re perfect right here, where you envisioned them.”

I slide my hand in hers and squeeze it. “I’ve got one more thing. If you’ve got time to take a quick drive.”

She gives me a lopsided smile. “You’re outdoing yourself, Mildie.”

We walk to the SUV and take the quickest route to her lot. It’s my favorite of all the lots and not just because it’s hers. There isn’t a bad choice on the property, but this one has gorgeous trees where I imagine the house going and a larger beach area closer to the water.

She squints at me curiously when we stop there.

I reach into the back seat and pull out a folder. And then I step outside and walk around, opening her door. She gets out, still dabbing her face from her earlier tears. I hand her the folder carefully, suddenly nervous.

She opens it slowly. And then her breath catches.

I watch her flip through the sketches—floor plans, elevations, little swatches of wood tones she’s mentioned. Her kitchen, and her sunroom with a window seat. The screened porch with twinkle lights already drawn in.

“Right there,” she says, pointing where the porch would go.

Her dream house. Down to the arched gate she showed me one time in a magazine and said, “That is totally my vibe.”

Her fingers press over her lips and she doesn’t say anything for a long time, just looks at every detail.

Finally, she chokes out, “Milo…” Her voice is barely a whisper. “This is exactly what I pictured. How did you do this? This is more than what we’ve talked about…”

“I’ve listened,” I say. “You tell me in little ways the things you love all the time. What you dream about. I paid attention.”

There’s no stopping the tears now. She looks at me and the tears streak down her cheeks. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

“I talked to your dad and he agreed. Out of you and your brothers, yours should be the first house we build. He said it without hesitation.”

He also agreed to my other question without hesitation, but I’ll save that for another day. I want to give her a little more time to be sure this is what she really wants. That I’m who she really wants. There has been a lot of change in her life over the past six months.

She dries her face and inhales a shaky breath. “I want you to be there with me. When we build it. When we live in it. Every part. I want—” Her voice breaks. “I want us to do it together.”

I pull her into my arms. She presses her face to my chest.

“I’m yours forever, remember?” I say into her hair.

“I love you, Milo. So much.”

“My heart is yours, every part.”

We kiss until we’re breathless.

“Can we go to your place tonight? I don’t want to be quiet.” She smiles against my mouth.

“How soon can we go?”

She laughs and jogs to the Range Rover, hopping in and slamming the door.

I laugh and follow.