Shit. She’s right. Pulling my hat from my head, I toss it on the counter. I have to think of something. Pulling my phone out of my pocket and the card from the furniture store earlier, I dial the manager I was working with. “Kyle, hi, this is Holden Bailey. I was hoping for a favor.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Bailey?” he asks. I can hear the eagerness in his voice.
“I need a washer and dryer. Is it possible to get that delivered tonight? It slipped my mind earlier today when I was there.” Before he can refuse, I toss in what I know will get this done. “I’ll add two tickets for you to opening day.”
“Let me see what we have in stock. Front load or top load?”
“Parker, front load or top load?” I ask.
She shrugs. “We have top. The front seem to make clothes smell moldy.”
“Top load, and all the bells and whistles,” I relay to Kyle.
“Be right back.” He places me on hold.
“Come here.” I hold my hand out for Parker, and she steps toward me. I wrap my arms around her, and she rests her head against my chest. I don’t know why it feels so good to have this woman in my arms, but fuck, she relaxes me, and dare I say, she feels like my missing piece.
“Right, we have a dark gray set of top loaders, all the bells and whistles. We can be there within the hour.”
“Perfect. And Kyle, I’m going to need another favor.”
“What’s that?”
“I need everything it’s going to take to hook it up. I need it installed, as well as some laundry detergent and fabric softener.”
“Sure, we have all of that here. My wife says it’s too expensive” he starts to ramble.
“That’s fine. I just need it all tonight.”
“Done. How would you like to pay for this?”
I shuffle to grab my wallet out of my pocket and give him my credit card number. “I’ll see you soon,” I say, ending the call and sliding my phone and my wallet back into my pocket. “Done. We can do laundry here tonight.”
“I still don’t have any clothes,” she reminds me.
“You can borrow some of mine to go home in tomorrow. I brought some over with me today. I have sweats that will be way too big, but we can figure it out.”
“We’ll see,” she says, not committing.
“That’s not a no, sweet pea.”
She tosses her head back in laughter. “That’s not a no.”
“Come on. I have something I want to show you.” Holding my hand out for her, I wait until she links her fingers with mine, then lead her upstairs to the master bedroom.
“Is this where you tell me all the magic happens?” she teases.
“Well, there has been no magic-making as of yet, but I’m sure we’ll get there.” I wink, and her cheeks flush. Pushing open the door, I step back, allowing her to enter.
“Wow. Holden, this is beautiful.” She runs her hands over the wood of the four-poster bed.
“I was hoping you’d like it.” She moves around the bed to the nightstand and stops. I know she’s spotted her first gift, and I wait patiently for her to acknowledge it.
“When did you take this?” she asks, her voice laced with emotion. She reaches for the framed photo of her and inspects it.
“You were studying at Cup of Joe, and I remember thinking how beautiful you looked that day.”
“Holden, my hair was tied up with a pencil, I had no makeup on, and I’m wearing a ratty Blaze sweatshirt.”
“Exactly. No filter needed. Just you, Parker Monroe. I wanted to capture the moment.”
She places the frame back on the nightstand and turns to look at me. Tears shimmer in her eyes. She blinks them away, and although I hate to see her tears, even happy tears, I want to smile because my plan is working. I’m making her see that this, that she is more to me.
“There’s more. Take a look in here.” I point at the door of one of the matching his and her closets.
Cautiously, she steps toward the door and turns the knob, stepping inside. “A housecoat and hangers?” She turns to look at me over her shoulder.
“Your housecoat and those hangers are for you too. You can leave as little or as much stuff here as you want. This closet is yours as far as I’m concerned. You have a dresser out here as well.”
“Holden” Her voice cracks.
I step up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. “This is my home, and I want you here. I know that if I were to ask you to move in with me, you’d tell me I’m crazy and that we’re moving too fast. So this is my compromise. This is me telling you that you are welcome here. I want you in my space, in my home, and in my arms as much as possible.” I place a tender kiss on her neck, and she shivers at the contact.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Besides, I’m not finished. I have something else to show you.” With her hand in mine, I lead her back downstairs into the home office. “This is for you,” I tell her as I move back, letting her step into the room.
She gasps. “What?” She turns to look at me, and the tears are back.
“I want you here, and I know once the season starts, life is going to get crazy. I know you have one more semester of school, and I thought you’d like a nice quiet place to study. I already want to spend all my time with you, and I can only imagine that’s going to intensify the more that I do. So I thought you could study here.”
“Holden, I don’t know what to say.” Her eyes scan the room as she looks at the new office furniture.
“The computer is new,” I say, pointing at the new iMac that’s still sitting in the box. “That way, if you forget your laptop, you have options, or you can do research or shop online. Hell, I don’t care what you do with it. I just want you here. Close to me.”
A sob wracks her small body, and my feet are moving. When I reach her, I pull her into my arms. I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say. This is not the reaction I was expecting. Instead, I move us to the small loveseat. I thought I could sit in here with her sometimes. My need to be close to her is over the top, but I’m embracing it.
I pull her onto my lap and hold her close. “I’m sorry,” I say, running my hands up and down her back. I don’t really know what for, but something I’ve said or maybe this room altogether has upset her in some way.
She lifts her head, giving me a watery smile. “You have nothing to apologize for. This just kind of hit me in the feels. When my parents were dating, Paisley was four, if I remember correctly. My mom was a single mom working and going to school. Dad took Paisley shopping and came back with shoes for her because she needed them and apparently told Dad she had to wait a few more weeks. To hear Dad tell it, he spoiled his girls that day. Paisley got what she needed and then some, and so did my mom. But one of the things he bought her was a laptop. Hers was apparently a piece of junk and took her a ton of extra time to finish her assignments because it was so slow. This”she motions around the room—“reminds me of that. Of the love they have for one another.”
“Your dad is a good man.”
“He’s the best. My sisters and I have always said we want a man like our father in our lives. That we want to be loved like that, and then you do this, and it’s so much like something my dad would do.” She looks back at me, her blue eyes full of emotion. “I know we’re not there yet. Love is a huge declaration, but this gesture… you’re not the man I once thought you were Holden, and I’m sorry for judging you.”