Page 31 of The Lake House (Southern Charm #2)

Chapter Thirty-One

It was the weekend, and Matilda wanted to spend the entire day in bed.

But she couldn’t. She and Ryan had to finish the renovations on the house.

Ryan said it would give her a break from the clinic and he’d been working on it so long he wanted to finally get it done.

It looked good. There was only a little landscaping left to go.

The fresh white paint gleamed. The new windows sparkled in the autumn sunshine.

The house looked new on the outside and was stunning on the inside.

She could say that because it had almost entirely been done by Ryan.

She’d contributed very little, really. And he’d done a fantastic job.

It was a dream house—three stories, open spaces, high ceilings, five bedrooms and three bathrooms, plus a large office for them both to share.

She especially loved the gourmet kitchen with the large sliding glass doors that led out onto a porch that looked over the lake.

But another day of landscaping made her want to cry and hide under the covers.

Every single part of her body hurt from the work she’d done all week on the clinic, and now she had to go outside in a pair of overalls and boots to help dig soil, plant saplings and lay sod.

Ryan wanted the sod to take root before the cold weather arrived, but all she could think about was how little energy she had left to do anything at all.

She stumbled into the kitchen, aiming directly for the espresso machine. Ryan laughed. “You look tired. You should stay in bed today.”

“No, I can’t. You’re landscaping.”

“I know, but you don’t have to help me if you don’t want to.”

“I want to. I can’t leave you to do it all by yourself. That wouldn’t be fair. You’ve done so much already.”

“I don’t mind.” He looped his arms around her waist, pinning her to him.

She laughed. “I can’t reach the coffee. I need the coffee.”

He released her with a kiss. “If you’re going to help today, you shouldn’t push yourself.”

“We’re in this together.” She poured coffee into a mug even as she yawned widely.

He laughed again. “This is going to go great. I can just tell.”

When he yawned, she pointed at him. “See, you’re tired too.”

“We’ve had a really busy week at work.”

“Maybe we should leave the landscaping until next weekend.”

He shook his head. “Definitely can’t do that. The sod has already been delivered, and it’ll die.”

“We should’ve hired someone.”

“I got them to level everything. All we have to do is lay it out and water it. It’ll be a piece of cake.” He winked.

She sniffed. “Sure it will. I’ve heard you say that before—when I was about to demo the waiting room at the clinic.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

She gulped a mouthful of coffee. It burned on the way down.

She would have to drink more slowly. “Never mind—you can make it up to me later. Maybe we can go on an actual date next weekend, since all of the renovations will be done here and at the clinic. By the way, after that, I don’t want to even hear the word ‘renovation’ again for as long as I live. ”

He grinned. “Not a big fan of it, huh?”

“It’s safe to say that I will never again in my life renovate anything.”

They spent the entire morning laying sod. Matilda’s arms felt as though they might detach from her body, they were so sore and heavy. But she was determined not to complain, so she worked through the discomfort without a word.

She carried one of the last pieces of sod to an empty patch of dirt, but on the way, her foot caught on a stone and she stumbled forward, then fell onto the piece of sod.

Her face pressed into the grass, and she breathed in the loose dirt.

Her knee landed on a stone, and pain shot through it. She yelped in pain.

Ryan was hauling another piece of sod from the pile and turned to look at her. He laughed. “I’m going to name you Clumsy the Dwarf.”

Rage burned inside her. She rolled onto her back and stared into the sky as her entire face became a blaze. Her stomach clenched, and she wanted to scream. How dare he say that to her when she was working so hard and hurt herself in the process?

She jumped to her feet and glared at him. “You’re a jerk. You know that?” Then she stormed into the house, kicking her boots off at the door so she didn’t track mud.

In the shower, her rage subsided, but she was still hurt by his words. He hadn’t come to comfort her or checked to see that she was okay. Instead, he’d thought the whole thing was a big joke. But she was far too tired and sore to see the funny side of it.

She dried off, dressed, and went to the kitchen to fix herself a snack and an enormous glass of white wine.

As she sipped the wine on the back porch, she breathed deeply and began to feel a little better and somewhat ashamed of her outburst. She was usually so controlled and didn’t let her tongue get away from her like that.

But she was on edge lately—tired, anxious and uncertain of whether everything she was doing was a gigantic mistake. She’d taken it out on him.

She heard Ryan come in and head to the shower but didn’t turn around. Then after a while, he joined her on the deck, a beer in hand. He sat beside her with a grunt.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Her eyes narrowed. “ Now you ask?”

He smiled. “I didn’t realise you’d hurt yourself. I’m sorry.”

She stood up and walked over to him, then crawled onto his lap. His arms closed around her, and she snuggled against his chest. He was warm, and it felt good.

“I’m sorry too.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Are we okay?”

“We’re fine.”

His steadfastness in the face of her harsh words was calming.

He wasn’t angry or offended. He was nothing like her ex, who wouldn’t have spoken to her for days if she’d said something like that to him.

Ryan was unflappable, solid, reliable. She could count on him to be there, even when she was struggling.

He was everything she’d ever wanted and he was right there, wrapped around her.

She could fall asleep in his arms, and he’d take care of her.

She knew then that she’d made at least one right choice in her life so far.