Dahlia grinned. “Harriette is her name.”
“So you think,” I muttered.
“Don’t mind him. He’s just mad that Harriette doesn’t like him.”
“She hasn’t been around, actually.”
“Really?” Dahlia frowned. “At all?”
“It’s been pretty quiet. Then again, we’ve been mostly working on the kitchen and roof lately.”
She laced her fingers over her sandaled feet and tucked her chin on her knees. “Did you try and get into her room?”
“Still won’t budge.”
She sighed. “But you checked recently?”
“No. Not in a while, but I had someone come in and clean the tunnel.”
“And nothing happened?”
I shook my head.
“Maybe we could try again?”
I wanted to see her, but I also didn’t want her to get hurt. But I found myself nodding. “Yeah, we can try.”
“We can?” Her head popped up.
“Yeah. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Five-minute warning on the movie!” A woman with red hair had a bullhorn as she walked down the beach. “We’re watching Spider Man: No Way Home!”
“Stay for the movie?” Dahlia asked.
I glanced at Archer, who was laying on the grass with his head propped up. He nodded.
“Yeah. I can stay.” I rolled onto my hip to sit beside her.
“Good.”
I mirrored her with my arms looped around my knees and relaxed for the first time in days. It boggled me how just smelling her scent and feeling her heat had me wanting to inch closer.
To never fucking leave her side.
TWENTY-SIX
I didn’t get over to the house the next day, but I was able to push some things around on my schedule to do it the day after. It was a cooler day, and there was a nice breeze coming off the water as I parked in the driveway.
The grass and driveway were eaten up with all the work trucks that were coming in and out. Today, there was a cement mixer with a long arm pour directed into the basement. It had been an old coal cellar and still had a dirt floor.
Not exactly up to code at the moment, that was for sure.
A lot had been done since I’d been at the site last. I’d mostly been keeping myself busy with the boring side of a renovation. Scheduling, chasing down supplies when needed, getting things ordered for the rooms as they were finalized. Shelby had evened out with her pregnancy, but she tired easily.
Which meant I was picking up some of the slack. I was tired as hell myself, but the long days kept me from overthinking things about Nolan.
I missed him almost as much as I missed my cat.
Annoying as hell.
I climbed the front porch steps, happy to see they were among the finished projects. It was a grand stone entrance with an ornate arched covering. The columns were obviously hand-carved, showing off Archer’s artistry in a mix of floral accents with the sharper gothic flavor that had drawn me to the house in the first place.
“Hey, Dahl!”
I turned at the familiar voice of Lucky Roberts. “Hey, big guy. How are you?”
“Good, good. We’re moving things along, as you see. This Archer guy is a ball buster, but damn if he doesn’t do nice work.”
“Stunning.”
“He’s in the back with grumpy. They’re doing something on the beach.”
“Something?”
He shrugged. “Whatever they’re doing, they’re out of my hair. I don’t care.”
