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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

HARLOW

I pulled up to the lake house and parked my new Nissan Rogue beside Brooks’ truck. Molly and I went car shopping earlier this week because if I was going to live in this town, I couldn’t keep begging people for rides.

I stared at the outside of the house. I hadn’t expected it to look so different. The construction trucks and building materials were gone. It looked like a brand-new home. Even the sidewalk pavers were new, and there were shrubs and flowers lining the front.

I should have known he was up to something when he told me to stay away from the house and focus on the wedding planning.

My phone buzzed in my purse as I walked up the driveway.

It had been ringing nonstop since the media reported the story that Bartholomew Zimmerman was being brought in for questioning as a potential suspect for the vandalism of his ex-fiancée’s house.

His face had been plastered all over the media, and Senator Zimmerman was running for cover while his campaign was falling off the rails.

As for my father, his reputation was unraveling, one headline at a time.

The story was out there for everyone to see.

The wealth and power he treasured most were slipping through his fingers faster than sand in an hourglass.

The best part of all was that I didn’t have to do a single thing. They did it to themselves.

The afternoon sun was hitting the front porch, and I could hear the water from the lake lapping along the shore. A feeling of peace settled over me the second I stepped inside the house. I swung the door fully open and gasped.

The new hardwood floors were the first thing I noticed.

What did he do? I spun around in a circle, taking it all in.

The house was finished. You could smell the fresh paint everywhere, and it wasn’t just the walls that got a new look. There were pictures and decorations everywhere I turned.

I was in disbelief as I moved from one room to the next.

Brooks installed bookcases along the fireplace.

There was a framed portrait of us along the main wall.

He literally thought of everything. I pressed a hand to my heart, allowing the tears to spill over at the sight of my mom’s blanket folded over the back of the couch.

I totally forgot about that knitted blanket.

I had no idea where he found it, but I was too overcome with emotion to think straight.

I looked past the open room into the kitchen. He painted the maple cabinets white. Even the fixtures were new.

The door creaked open, and Brooks stepped inside. I wanted to weep at the sight of him.

“You’re early,” he said as he wiped his hands off on a towel.

I nodded, feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to speak.“What did you do?”

He glanced around and back at me. His cheeks were red, as if he was unsure if I would like this surprise. “I was hoping to get a few more things done before you saw it.”

“I can’t believe you did all this,” I whispered.I was at a loss for words.

He stepped closer. “Do you like it?”

I sputtered out a laugh. “Are you serious right now? I’m stunned. How did you manage to get it all done?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Called in a few favors. Had my guys working around the clock. I wanted this done before our wedding tomorrow. It’s my gift to you.”

“Brooks.” I covered my mouth and hiccupped on a sob. “I don’t even know what to say.”

He closed the distance between us and pulled me into his arms. He was sweaty and smelled like paint and sawdust, but I didn’t care. I rested my forehead against his chest while his hands went to my back. I took a moment to breathe him in and allow myself to sink into the comfort of his arms.

“There’s still room for you to add some of your personal touches,” he said, swallowing hard and tightening his grip on my back. “I wanted you to walk in here and feel like it was yours. I wanted to surprise you.”

I looked up and ran my fingers along his stubbled jaw. “Thank you. This is the best surprise.”

“You’ve been through hell, and I know I don’t have the kind of money you’re used to, and can’t buy you everything, but this was something I could give you.”

“I don’t want anything, Brooks. You are all I need.”

His thumb rubbed small circles along the base of my spine. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Well, congratulations. I’ve never been happier.”

He grinned and took my hand. “Come on, it gets better.”

Before I could ask where we were going, he led me upstairs. When we reached the top of the landing, it took me a second to realize he was leading me to the master bedroom.

“Go on,” he encouraged and slowly opened the door.

There was a king-sized bed where the queen used to be. A soft, blue quilt and throw pillows were neatly arranged on the mattress. He spun around, and I followed him over to the closet.

Flannel shirts and Henleys hung neatly next to my sweaters and dresses. A pair of beige Timberland boots sat on the floor beside my heels.

“What is all this?”

He stepped up to my back. “This is going to be our house.”

His words knocked the wind right out of me. I turned around and blinked hard. “What about your house?”

We hadn’t talked about it, but I assumed he would want to keep it. I would have been perfectly fine using this as a second property.At the very least, I thought we could use this on the weekends when the weather was nice.

He placed his hands on my hips. “It’s just a house. I don’t have a sentimental attachment to it like you do here.”

He was trying to rationalize and play down how much it meant to him.

“But you built that house.”

He exhaled and looked away. “Yeah, I built it for a life I envisioned living. The truth is, when I built that house, I was looking for a distraction, something to pour my energy into. Anything to keep me occupied and take my mind off you. That house wasn’t built for us; this house matters. It means something.”

His confession shattered something inside me.

Because he was standing in front of me, telling me it meant nothing, but it meant everything.

He was willing to give something up that he poured his heart and soul into just to make me happy.

I was the one who walked away, and he still wanted to build a life with me.

I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to hold it all in, but the tears came anyway.

“Listen to me.” He wiped at my cheeks. “I don’t need that house. We can sell it, keep it, or do whatever we want with it. We don’t need to make that decision today.”

When I looked up, I saw a man who would give up everything and fight until his last breath for me. I didn’t feel like I deserved him, so when the tears started up again, they came fast and heavy. He didn’t wipe them away this time; he pulled me closer and wrapped his protective arms around me.

“I’ll never be able to repay you for all you’ve done for me.”

He kissed the top of my head. “You don’t owe me a damn thing.”

God, this man.

He didn’t just renovate my house; he put me back together, piece by piece. He believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. He loved me when I gave up on us. He was giving me a second chance when I didn’t deserve one.

I brought my hands up to his face and traced the strong lines of his jaw.I don’t think I’ve ever felt this type of certainty in my life. This is the type of love I’d never be able to find with anyone else. It was the type of love that scared you and settled you at the same time.

I looked around the room again, at all the little details and personal touches I hadn’t expected.

It was filled with so much love—more love than I ever imagined feeling. For the first time, I finally understood true happiness.

I might have come back for this house, but I was staying for him, and this was so much better.

This might have started as a temporary solution to a messy problem, but somehow, our fake arrangement became something real.

Now, I didn’t just have my house back, but I had his love, too.

And I would never let anyone take that from us again.