Page 54 of Will Bark for Pizza (Bluebell Springs #1)

FORTY-THREE

BECKETT

“The butterscotch oak was definitely the right choice,” Aspen said approvingly as she surveyed my work in the bookstore apartment.

Unbeknownst to Kira—who was currently helping Connie in the garden at the farm—I enlisted the help of both Aspen and Lila.

When I finally revealed this space to Kira, I wanted it to be everything she imagined it could be, and more.

But one brief description before the encounter with Charlie wasn’t enough to go on. I needed reinforcements.

“Good. I think so, too. And the paint color?”

I’d been nervous about the color, worried it would turn out too dark and make the space feel small. But the tone, mapped blue , complemented the floors well. The best part: it matched the color of Kira’s eyes.

“It’s perfect, Beckett. Seriously.”

We moved around the apartment, and I asked questions with each space we discussed. Backsplash for the kitchenette, finishes for the bathroom, where to install can lights for extra illumination.

“I thought I might add lighting inside the shelves too,” I said, remembering a picture I found online. “Is that too much?”

Aspen stared at me for several beats, a smile growing. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” I said, running a hand over the back of my neck. It’s not as though Aspen hadn’t picked up on that since I asked for her help a week ago. But admitting it face-to-face like this felt more fucking vulnerable than I wanted it to.

“She cares about you, too.”

“She does?” The question fell out before I could rein it back in, my unconscious half step forward with the words noticed by both of us at the same time.

Aspen glanced from my boot to me with an amused smile.

Fuck, the last thing I needed was to sound like some hapless teenage boy tripping over his own two feet when it came to the homecoming queen.

“I mean, I?—”

“If you’re in this—and I think you are—you’ll need about three times the patience you’re anticipating. Her trust was shot to hell until there was nothing left of it. It’s going to take some time for her to heal again. To trust again. You get me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Nana’s analogy about Kira being a wounded animal was perhaps the best nugget of wisdom she offered before her departure.

Even if the context was a little different, the core of the meaning was the same.

Kira would need time to trust I was who I said I was.

To trust that my feelings were genuine. And I’d give it to her.

“I know you helped her burn the letter,” Aspen said.

The letter . In Omaha. I cleared my throat, wondering what else she knew about that trip.

“You’re a good guy, Beckett. Better than I gave you credit for.”

“But?”

“No buts.”

“Unless I misstep, right?”

She patted me on the arm, the way my sister sometimes did. “ Now you’re getting it.”

We discussed the apartment some more. Where I planned to start next—the bathroom because it’d take the longest, and might require asking for help.

The less I had to tell Luke and Connor, the better.

I could explain fresh paint, new flooring, and some trim.

But I couldn’t explain a fully furnished writing loft with built-in bookshelves that lit up.

Better to have them help now before I fixed up anything else.

“You’ll have to tell them eventually,” Aspen pointed out.

“I know.”

“But you tell them too soon, and you’ll spook Kira.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“I think she’s going to love it,” Aspen said.

“Any advice?”

“On the apartment, or Kira?” The twinkle in her eyes said she already knew.

“You can never really do too much for Kira. Not when she’s so used to settling for table scraps on the best days.

But she also needs to know she can fly with her own wings.

Don’t try to fix her problems, just support her while she sorts everything out.

If you’re lucky—and hella patient—you’ll get the girl in the end. ”

Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and we both froze.

“Too heavy to be Kira,” Aspen whispered.

“Sorry to barge in on you kids.” Joe Mason appeared in the open doorway, surveying my work in one slow scan. “Well, I’ll be damned. Looks like a new place.”

“I think Kira’s going to love it,” Aspen said.

“Kira?” Joe repeated.

Shit. I hadn’t really discussed this with Joe. I mentioned I was sprucing up the apartment when I purchased the paint from the hardware store a couple of days ago, but not why. And I certainly omitted the part about a complete renovation with furnishings.

“I know we haven’t officially closed yet?—”

“Does she know?” Joe asked.

“No,” Aspen answered for me. “It’s a surprise. So you’re sworn to secrecy, Uncle Joe. Got it?”

Joe nodded.

“Now that that’s settled, I’ll let you two boys chat. I have to run. Owen’s grilling steaks.”

Joe and I stood there in silence, both looking around the empty space. I wondered how he saw it. Did he see the new life breathed into it? Or did he picture the past, when his wife hid away up here to read? Did he hate the changes I made?

“You care about her, don’t you?” he asked me.

“I do.” No point in lying. Kira might not be ready for a relationship right now, but a feeling deep in my gut told me one day that would change. Patience , Aspen had advised. A whole helluva lot of patience.

“I’m glad you’re the one buying the building. Gives her the best chance of making it.”

“She will,” I said.

“You sound pretty confident.”

“I haven’t known your daughter long, but I’ve known her long enough to recognize her unmatched resilience. If anyone can save the bookstore, it’s Kira.”

That brought a slow smile to Joe’s lips. “I certainly hope you’re right, son.”

Son .

The single word threw me off balance, like a friendly punch to the shoulder. How many times had I desperately wanted to hear my own dad call me son , just once? But he, like my mother, was too busy wishing they never had a son at all.

“What else you have planned up here?” Joe asked.

“More than I probably should,” I admitted.

Joe’s smile doubled in size. “I know a guy who can get you materials at cost.”

“You don’t have to?—”

“I want to.”

There was no point in arguing, so I simply said, “Thanks.”

“Now, tell me what you have in mind.”