‘It’s lovely to meet you.’ Honey’s lips form a thin, polite smile when she pulls back—and I instantly know I’ve made a mistake bringing everyone here. That’s her fake smile, or at least it used to be. This is probably overwhelming for her.Fuck.
‘Do you like yoga?’ Rory perks up, tapping the yoga mat tucked under Honey’s arms.
‘Oh, um, yes.’ Honey nods, and I don’t like that I didn’t know that about her. That it’s just another thing to add to the list of ways she’s different. ‘I don’t get much of a chance to exercise but I find yoga calms me.’
Rory beams. ‘You should totally come down to Sunset Ranch for a yoga session. We do them with the retreat customers all the time but feel free to join whenever.’
‘Oh, okay.’ Honey offers a gentle smile, but I’m too focused on how her eyes still don’t hold anyone’s gaze for too long, falling to the floor regularly. The need to get her away from them, give her some respite for a second so she can untense, feels too pertinent.
‘How ’bout I show you around the place while everyone helps unload your stuff?’ I suggest.
‘I’ve got this,’ Rory says, unburdening everything from Honey’s arms, then proceeds to hand it over to Wyatt. He perks a dark brow at her but as soon as she flashes her innocent smile, he softens and carries the stuff inside. I don’t tease him enough for being so whipped.
I gesture one of my crutches towards the front door to signal the start of our tour, which does reward me with a brief smile from Honey that even hasmymuscles loosening somewhat. I ride menacing bulls for a living—why the hell was I getting nervous about having her here?
First, I show her around the main open-plan area of the house that she’s already seen—the large kitchen tucked into the corner with a broad island counter in the middle, a few stools dotted around, while the living area boasts a large fireplace opposite two long couches. We peek into the dining room that also has a door leading onto the back deck. Coldness lingers in the room given I can’t remember a single family dinner eaten in there. Honey remains relatively quiet as she inspects the house, and I can’t help but watch her every chance I get, trying to decipher what she’s thinking.
If I’m—the house, I mean—is good enough for her.
Upstairs has four bedrooms, two of which are guest bedrooms and I’ve given Honey the largest. I’m no interior designer but I tried to upgrade the room with some candles, floral sheets, and decorative pillows on the bed. I’m unsure whether I went a bit overkill with getting everything in the colour blue, but Honey’s eyes brighten as they roam around the room, so I take that as her appreciation. Makes me feel like all the struggling up and down the stairs with my damn crutches and broken leg was worth it.
I thought Noah might like my old bedroom. It still has all my football and rodeo posters plastered to the wall. A couple of trophies on the shelves too. The only evidence that my dad might have had a heart, keeping all my stuff even after I left. Honey’s smile instantly breaks out as she notices the toys I’ve also filled it with—I spent most of yesterday hobbling around different stores to find as many ranch-related stuffed animals I could with the hopes it would make Noah feel more at ease.
Finally, we head back downstairs—where I’m subjected to stay for ease.
‘That’s my bathroom.’ I point to the shower room, then knock open the door to my bedroom with my foot. ‘And this is the guest room I’m stuck in.’
A quick, snort-like noise comes out of her.
‘What?’
Her baby blues flash. ‘Oh, nothing.’
I lean in the door frame then, folding my arms, crutches hanging off them, as I look down at her with arched brows. I swear she swallows under my gaze.
‘You’re just so messy,’ she eventually admits, caving andcatching her bottom lip with her teeth as if to hide her amusement.
‘Ah, fuck.’ I take in the state of my bedroom—sheets bunched up from a restless night, clothes strewn over the arm of the chair, curtains still pulled. A testament to my lack of motivation, perhaps. I’d forgotten how mess made her anxious. ‘Be easy on me, Blue. I’m injured.’
Her attempt to suppress her smile this time is dismal, and it sends something bright and burning through me.
‘I’ll fix it,’ I say, trying to scorch the reminder of her tidy habits into my mind—guess that’s one part of her I actually did forget. Only took nine years.
Still, I don’t want her feeling any more anxious than she already is about this.
Honey shrugs it off. ‘It’s fine, really.’
‘Not if it’s gonna bother you,’ I insist—her anxiety deserves the same space and consideration as anyone else’s.
‘It’s not like I’m going to be spending that much time in your bedroom,’ she says, before a faint pink tinge spreads across the tops of her cheeks, forcing her to add on quickly, ‘or any time, for that matter.’
I almost forgot how pretty she is when she blushes—how fun it is knowing that’s a reaction to me she can’t hide. So much so, I can’t help but tease, ‘You sure about that? This whole apartment flooding story isn’t just a lie to get into my pants now, Blue?’
‘Sawyer!’ Her eyes double in size, lips popping open to form the perfect O. She stumbles over her words, all flustered, and it’s too entertaining to watch. ‘I—I—Of course not.’
Oh, living with her, making her squirm like this. It’s going to be too much fun.
‘I’m only joking, Blue,’ I admit, a deep chuckle rumbling from my chest. Now her cheeks are stained an even darker shade, crimson overpowering her freckles. The sudden urge to rub my thumb along her blushing cheek hits me, and I flex my hand to try to rid it, but it distracts me from the confession that then falls from my lips, ‘Just missed teasing ya.’