“The first or junior?” Evie asked with a smile.
“The first. I’m going to tell him the whole story of our great family line, since he’s part of it now.”
“Um, he’s Declan’s dog.”
“Like I said, he’s family now.”
She shot him a look, but he was fully immersed in petting Judah, and the last thing she wanted to do was get him worked up over whatever he’d said to Declan. It could wait until morning.
She walked over to the window seat to settle in and listen. He started with how Thaddeus Ambrose Bushrod, a captain in the British Royal Navy, had moved to America to stake his claim and build a small town in North Carolina. From there, Big Bad Thad, as they called the man who stood more than six and a half feet, marked off the town square and opened the first business, a bar the locals still called Bushrod’s.
Evie looked out the window as the evening lights of that very town flickered to life, a half moon rising over the square named after her great-great-great-grandfather.
He said you should have a baby…my baby.
She closed her eyes and listened to the biographies of all the Bushrods and Hewitts who’d come before her and gave up the fight.
While Granddaddy droned on, she let herself sink into a dream she thought she’d long ago given up.
Chapter Ten
Declan had texted only, Coming over around ten, because texting Evie, I can’t freaking stay away, would probably have a stalker-y tone. Let her think he wanted to check on Judah, which he did, but he’d thrown enough tools in the truck to do more than that.
He’d start with the broken stair rail, take a look at the warped windows, then work his way through the house to help with whatever it needed. It was the least he could do for how much she was doing for Judah.
And it was the best way to spend more time with her…which, face it, was all he really wanted. And maybe, with a little time, he could find a way to say the words she deserved to hear. Over the past few days, it had been all about Judah, but now, he had to man up and take whatever fury or heartache he had coming his way.
She opened the door before he made his way up the walk, locking her hands on her hips, which accentuated the narrowness of her waist and long legs in jeans, eyeing the toolbox he carried. “Bringing a screwdriver so you can loosen up?”
Laughing, he lifted the metal toolbox in his right hand. “Friends don’t let friends’ windows stick.”
“Declan.”
“Evie,” he echoed, their old joke so natural it kind of took his breath away. “I told you I’d be your handyman.”
Her eyes flickered at that, and an expression he couldn’t quite decipher crossed her face, which looked prettier every time he saw her. “You don’t have to work today?” she asked as she let him in.
“I’m off today. I have twelve hours tomorrow and twenty-four on Thursday and Friday, but then I’m free all weekend.” He stepped past her, stealing a whiff of her feminine scent and letting their arms brush because it was nice.
“That’s not too bad.”
“Perk of being the one who makes the schedule,” he said, heading right to the newel to set the toolbox on the stairs. “How’s Judah?”
“Attached to his new best friend.”
He turned, a smile pulling. “Max?”
“They’re inseparable. They slept together last night.”
He fought the urge to let his gaze travel over her T-shirt and jeans again and crack a joke about sleeping together. Nope. Too soon. “No word from Vestal Valley on the surgery yet?”
“Not yet.” She joined him at the bottom of the steps, looking up at him with those bright blue eyes that always reminded him of a cut-glass perfume bottle Gramma Finnie owned. “But you might not have too much work to do after all.”
“How’s that?”
“A man came by here last night and made an offer on the house. As is.”
“You have it on the market?” How did he not know that?
“No. But if it ever is, he wants to buy it as a surprise wedding present for his fiancée, because they’ve been in love with the house for years. He made a starting offer that knocked my socks off.”
“Wow.” He shifted his attention to the newel, rocking the solid wood back and forth in his hands to try to figure out how the original carpenter had affixed it and why it wasn’t a solid piece of wood.
And why this news of hers sent a punch into his gut that he didn’t understand. Not that it was hard to surmise. Once her grandfather died and she sold this house, Evie Hewitt would have no reason to ever come back to Bitter Bark.
“Wow is right. I called my parents this morning, and they were pretty psyched.”
“They really don’t want to keep this house?” He flipped open the toolbox.
“They really don’t,” she confirmed. “Plus, the offer was seven digits, and the first wasn’t a one.”
He let out a low whistle. “Holy…wow. That’s a lot of cash for Bitter Bark.”
“Seriously.” She reached into the toolbox and pulled out a wrench, holding it up. “This is not a drill. Repeat. Not a drill.”
“Har-har. Nailed it.”
“Ooh, good one.” She plucked through the box, picking up a wire cutter. “Unlike this guy who tried to be punny, but he just couldn’t cut it.”
He cracked up, swamped by a sudden rush of good feeling. “So how does Max feel about this house offer?”
“I kind of avoid the subject of the house with him,” she admitted, putting the wire cutter down. “He knows my parents aren’t leaving the Caribbean, and I can’t take care of the house from three and a half hours away. Plus, who wants to talk about it when it means talking about him…” She lifted a shoulder. “Obviously, he’s not going to live forever, but I personally would like to believe that he might.”
“He
