“You did great. This is more than a closet, it’s a dressing room! I love that you brought her vanity in here with her makeup. There is so much hanging space in here.” She turns to examine the shelves. “And she’ll have space for new shoes and bags too.”
“Yeah, because she needs those,” Steven says, rolling his eyes.
“If having too many shoes is wrong, I don’t wanna be right,” Riley says, then turns to me. “Okay, what can I do?”
“Help us fill it up. I don’t know how she’d want her clothes and other things organized, but you will.”
“I know exactly what to do.” She marches out of the room and returns a few minutes later with her arms full of clothes. “We need to bring her dressers in here too.”
“There’s not enough wall space in here,” I reply, but she shakes her head.
“We’re going to put them in the middle of the room, back-to-back, and she can use the top for jewelry and her hair stuff. Trust me.”
Steven and I eye each other dubiously, but we wrestle the matching six-drawer dressers into the room, set them back-to-back, and I grin. She’s right. They’re the perfect height for her to use them, and they leave plenty of space for her to walk around them.
“I’ll be right back,” Steven says, and runs out of the room as Riley passes me a stack of shoe boxes.
“You can start unboxing those and placing them on the shelves, and I’ll come behind you and organize them based on color and style.”
“This is really involved,” I reply.
“You have no idea,” Riley says, nodding. “But it’ll be so worth it. It’ll get you laid for days.”
“Gross,” Steven says as he comes back in the room carrying an ottoman from her office. “She doesn’t use this, and it’ll look great next to the dressers. She can use it to sit on to put shoes on and stuff.”
“Brilliant!” Riley says, clapping her hands. “That chandelier is a great touch.”
“I thought it made the space feel more feminine,” I reply, happy that we’ve done a good job.
“This is Girl Central,” Steven says. “I’m gonna have to go play football or something, just to get the girl germs off of me.”
“What are you, nine?” I ask, and throw a sparkly shoe at him, hitting him in the shoulder when he dodges.
“No, I’m out of here,” he says, and grins. “Have fun touching all the girl stuff, man, but this is above my pay grade.” And with that, he escapes.
“Punk,” I mutter, but can’t help but smile. “She’s going to be surprised.”
“This might be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for her,” Riley says, and pats my shoulder. “You did good. When will she be home?”
“In about two hours. Kat texted and said they were just leaving a few minutes ago. She’s going to text again when they’re about a half hour out so I can order a pizza.”
“Swanky,” Riley says with a wink. “And FYI, don’t give her wine tonight. She’s been drinking wine for two days.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
EVERYTHING IS READY for her when she walks through the doors. Sunflowers are set out, candles lit, pizza waiting on the coffee table. And Scoot, who thankfully wasn’t interested in the construction process, thus staying out from under foot, is curled in a ball on the back of the couch.
She steps inside and immediately kicks off her shoes, sighs, and glances up, surprised to see me standing in her house.
“Hi,” she says, and smiles. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I haven’t seen you in two days,” I remind her, and step to her, taking her overnight bag from her, her purse, and helping her out of her coat. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“Do I smell pizza?”
“Mm,” I reply, and kiss her on the forehead, breathing her in. Damn, I’ve missed her. “Come eat.”
“You’re a prince,” she says, and flops on the couch, scrubbing her hands over her face.
“You know you’re always beautiful, but you look tired tonight.”
“God, I’m exhausted.”
I pass her a slice of pizza and she immediately takes a big bite and sighs in happiness. “So good.”
I’m going to be inside her later when she makes that same exact sound.
Rather than grab a slice for myself, I pull her feet into my lap and get to work rubbing her arches, and making her purr while she munches happily on her dinner.
“I could seriously get used to this.”
I smile. “Me too.”
“I think I’m getting the better end of it.”
“That’s up for debate,” I reply. “I get to touch you, talk to you. I think I’m in pretty good shape here.”
“You say some really sweet things, you know.” She watches me with tired green eyes.
“I don’t say anything that I don’t mean,” I reply. I pass her another slice of pizza and switch to the other foot, paying it as much attention as I did the first. “How did it go?”
“It was great,” she replies. “Cuppa Di Vita has a few new wines in their cellar, and we tasted them all.” She frowns. “But for some reason it didn’t sit well with me, so I tasted, then spit. I didn’t swallow.” She giggles, making me grin. “I always thought spitters were quitters, but . . .” She shrugs and giggles again.