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Myra glances at Christian’s house one more time, before giving me a small nod. “Sure.”

I reach out to close her car door, then rest a hand on her back. I know it’s daylight now, so the chances of her tripping over something she can’t see are slim to none, but still. I like knowing I’m ready if she needs me.

I urge her up the stairs ahead of me, following close behind as she opens the door and steps into her house.

My eyes are locked on her face as she takes in what Christian and I accomplished while she was out.

Myra isn’t easy to read, but I’m starting to figure her out, so I’m not offended when she doesn’t immediately react.

It seems to take her a little bit to absorb things.

Then it takes another beat for her to react.

Her expression is relatively closed off as she steps into her future family room, blue eyes drifting over the newly added walls and ceiling.

I stay quiet as she steps from the family room into the front room.

I’m not sure what her plans are for it yet—Myra doesn’t seem to plan the same way I do—but an odd wistfulness in her expression makes me think she might have more ideas about it than she’s shared with me.

When she finally turns to face me, I’m rewarded with a tentative smile. “It looks pretty great.” Her smile dims a little. “Almost makes me regret not starting sooner.”

I shrug, not wanting her to feel bad about the time it’s taking her to acclimate to a new life.

“Everything happens exactly when it’s supposed to.

” I move closer, drawn in by the hint of regret pinching her pretty features.

“And if you’d started sooner, I would’ve been left with nothing to do but listen to Christian and Tate talk about how fucking happy they are. ”

Myra wrinkles her nose, as if that sounds as distasteful to her as it does to me. “It gets really old really fast.”

“I can imagine.” I don’t like thinking about her being here facing the isolation that can come from being the only one not paired up. “They should be lucky you haven’t throat punched all of them yet.”

A bark of laughter jumps through her lips as her head tips back. “Can you imagine the look on Christian’s face if I just randomly punched him in the throat?”

I chuckle. “Yes, I can. And I think I’m gonna keep imagining it, because it’s pretty fantastic.”

Myra dabs at the corner of one eye, letting out a sigh. “This looks really amazing in here.” She sobers. “I know it might not seem like it, but I really appreciate you doing this for me.”

“It does seem like it.” I don’t want her to think I believe she’s not grateful. “ I appreciate you letting me do this. I know you were on the fence, and if you hadn’t...” My words drift off, because I don’t know if I should admit what I would have done if she hadn’t.

But Myra doesn’t give me the choice. “If I hadn’t”—she lifts a brow—”then what?”

I press my lips together before admitting, “I probably would have left early and gone to my next job and waited for it to start.”

Myra’s blue eyes move over my face, brow furrowing slightly as she studies me. “Why don’t you like being here?”

It’s a question I’ve successfully avoided being asked up until now.

I don’t know what I would’ve told one of my brothers if they’d been the one to pose it, but I do know what I’ll give Myra.

I’ll give her the truth. Because she of all people will understand it, and it might make her feel less alone.

“It’s not that I don’t like being here, I do. It’s just…difficult.” I take a deep breath, steadying myself before sharing a little bit of what I hold close. “It’s hard seeing all of them with what I should have had.”

Myra’s quiet for a minute and I let her take a second to absorb what I’ve said. It’s a lot for me to admit, and probably carries weight for her as well.

“You know, I read something a few months ago, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

” She glances around before again meeting my eyes.

“It said, if something is meant for you, it won’t miss you.

” She swallows, the delicate line of her throat working with the action as her eyes fall.

“I want to think it’s true, but some days it’s hard. ”

I don’t mean to do it, but I step closer, my hands coming to the sides of her face, tipping it back until she’s looking up at me.

“It is true.” I can’t stand the despondent look on her face.

The almost hopeless edge to her words. “I just think sometimes shit takes way longer than necessary to hit us.”

As I hoped, Myra laughs, her mood lightening instantly. “I guess that could be it.”

I expect her to step away. To put space between us now that she no longer needs comfort. But Myra’s hands lift to grip my forearms, holding on as she smiles up at me. “Maybe we should put targets on our chests. See if that helps.”

I think back to her reaction to my half-dressed state yesterday morning when she showed up at my camper with the best breakfast I’ve ever eaten. “That’s not a bad idea.”