“Maybe you should have stayed here?” he said, his voice thick with amusement.
“Is that what this is? Payback for leaving?”
“No, that’s Elisabeth’s way of making sure Clare and Tessa are comfortable and not living in a bachelor pad. However, when you get upstairs and find all of those scented candles in your bedroom, that’s your payback for leaving.” He laughed again before saying, “Call me if you need anything,” and then he hung up.
I fisted my hands on my hips and turned to the kitchen only to wince when I saw pink-and-white-striped dishtowels hanging on the door of my oven.
Clare’s arms wrapped around me from behind. “I think it looks nice.”
I raked my hand through my hair. “This isn’t going to work out. I think we need to get a divorce.”
She laughed musically. “We aren’t married.”
“Then, for the love of all that’s holy, please tell me why my house looks like we just celebrated our tenth anniversary.”
Her chest shook against my back. “Maybe I can talk to Elisabeth and see if we can switch some of it out for something a little more…uh…gender neutral.”
Tessa shoved past me and went straight to the fridge. “Heaf, you got chocolate milk?”
I sighed. “I don’t know, sweet girl. But, from the looks of the place, I’m betting there is probably some rose water in there.”
Clare laughed so loud that my smile broke before I could even stop it.
She slid around to my front. “Breathe, honey. They’re only decorations.”
I looped my arms around her hips and brushed my lips with hers, admitting, “I’m scared to go upstairs.”
She smiled against my mouth. “How about I go up there first and get rid of anything that could possibly be construed as feminine?”
“No. My guys cleared the house right before we got here, but I should still check it out first.”
Her eyes grew wide as her hands drifted under the hem of my shirt. “I won’t lie. I knew she was up to something. She asked me to help her pick out a new duvet. But I remembered she’d just gotten a new one.”
I curled my lip. “What the fucking hell is a duvet?”
“It’s like a comforter. And…let’s just say, the one I told her I liked had big magnolias on it.”
I closed my eyes and groaned. She, of course, giggled at my pain. If I didn’t love her so damn much, I would’ve been offended.
Gathering up all the courage I could muster, I headed for the stairs. “Pray for me.”
She smirked. “Do I get the house if you stroke out?”
“Don’t look so excited. It’s not paid off.”
She covered her smile with her hand.
I took the first step up. “Tell my family I love them. Well, except Melanie. She’s pissed at me right now for calling her job and leaving a message with her secretary that her gonorrhea test had come back positive. Maybe wait a week before contacting her.”
Her mouth gaped. “You did not!”
I took another step up. “You’re not praying.”
“Oh, right.” She folded her hands in front of her and closed her eyes.
Only then did I allow myself to smile.
Huge.
I was lying on my stomach on his bed, in nothing but one of Heath’s T-shirts and a pair of panties. My knees were bent, my ankles crisscrossed in the air above me as I flipped through the pages of a huge plastic binder.
I’d spent over an hour soaking in his bathtub while Heath had taken on the task of getting Tessa settled in her new bed in his bright-pink guestroom that looked like Kid’s Pottery Barn had thrown up all over it. I hadn’t been sure Heath would survive that one. But, of all the rooms Elisabeth and Maggie had decorated in the house, that was the one that bothered him the least.
He’d peeked his head in the doorway and grunted, “Looks like her.” Then went on to obsessing about the new yellow and black chevron in his bathroom. “Georgia Tech colors,” he’d muttered just seconds before stripping the shower curtain down and throwing it in the trash.
“I can’t decide how I feel about this,” I called out to him when he came sauntering into his bedroom.
Maggie had not been lying. My man did, in fact, have a collection of Pokémon cards in the top of his closet. He also had baseball cards, football cards, and some weird Olympic cards that had apparently been popular at some point.
I knew Heath well—or so I’d thought. But being in someone else’s space is telling on a whole new level. I’d learned that Heath was a bit of a packrat. He was super neat though, so all of his random collections were organized in shoeboxes or binders and stacked alphabetically in his closet.
Yes. Alphabetically.
So perhaps neat wasn’t the right word. Anal was probably more fitting. But it was cute.
Other things I’d learned:
He didn’t play video games.
Loved Chuck Palahniuk novels.
He had a penchant for old guns.