by Penny Wylder
Both my parents are staring at Rey’s hand around my waist, and I put my hand over his.
Mom looks at me. “Well, that’s new.”
I close my eyes and ignore the comment. My parents are good people. I love them. And obviously I would do anything for them like this impossible project. But there’s a reason I left town as quickly as possible. I can’t remember a time when my parents and I didn’t butt heads over something.
“I’m happy you guys are here,” I say. “And of course, you’re welcome to keep coming to check on the progress in the next ten days. But Rey is the only reason that this project has a snowball’s chance in hell of getting done on time. So, while you’re here, I don’t want to hear anything about your issues with Rey. We’re adults, and what you’re thinking about happened a long time ago and was not the source of this neighborhood going to shit.”
Mom tilts her head. “And you not wanting to hear what we have to say has nothing to do with that?” She nods her hands at our entwined hands.
“No,” I say. “It doesn’t. Because this isn’t who you are. You’re literally insulting someone to their face while knowing nothing about their current life or what they’ve done. Which, I have to say, is pretty shitty.”
“Klara—” My father takes a step forward. “You’re really going to speak to your mother and me that way?”
Rey pulls me back against him—a move that they won’t be able to see but gives me a little comfort. I clear my throat. “You’ve asked me to do this job, and I’m doing it. I would appreciate it if you didn’t disrespect the people trying to make it happen. Now if you don’t mind, I have a lot of paint in my car and I need to get it out of there before the cans explode from the heat. I’ll keep you posted with updates, if you want to check in tomorrow in person, feel free.”
I grip Rey’s hand and pull him with me out the front door. It’s super unlikely that the paint cans are going to explode, but I needed a way to exit the situation. I didn’t even have a chance to ask them how they were feeling, or if there was good news about Mom’s last treatment. But I honestly didn’t expect them to come out swinging like that.
“Are you okay?” Rey asks.
“Me?” I turn and lean against the door of my car. “I should be the one asking that. They were coming after you.”
Rey’s face is clouded with shadows, but he shrugs. “I can’t do anything to change their minds if that’s what they think. Hopefully they’ll see what I do here and their opinion will improve. But it’s not like I can deny that I wasn’t a model child.”
“Rey, no one in this neighborhood was a model child. And none of us were responsible for the neighborhood ending up like this.”
“You were the model kid, from what I remember.” I give him a look, and he chuckles. “I know that I’m not responsible for it. But maybe they’re right, and I was part of it.”
I open my mouth to protest, and he shakes his head.
“I’m not bothered by it. I know who I am now, and I’m not the same. It doesn’t change anything about helping you with this project or,” he pauses. “How I’m feeling about you.”
Rey leans down to kiss me, gently pressing my body into the car behind me. He tilts my face up to his, and I relax into the kiss. It’s amazing how quickly my anxiety and anger melt away under his touch. All I’m thinking about is him.
Until a gasp comes from my right.
I break away to see my parents walking to their car. My mother’s mouth is open as she stares at me, a look of horror on her face. I blush even though I don’t want to, and look away. But Rey doesn’t falter. He moves closer, subtly shifting so that I’m mostly blocked from their view.
My eyes burn.
“I’m so sorry.”
“This isn’t your fault,” he says in my ear.
We stay in that position until I hear the doors of my parents’ car close and the rumble of their engine as they drive away. Rey pulls away and smiles at me. “Now, where were we? Painting, right?”
“Right.”
We unload the paint and I get started in the living room while the rest of the crew moves on to the upstairs. But I can’t help but think about what they said. Their reaction was so visceral and immediate. What if I’m crazy? What if what I’m feeling for Rey is somehow wrong?
I can’t imagine that that’s true, but my stomach is twisted with nerves, and I don’t think they’re going away anytime soon.
13
Reynard
The days pass more quickly than I want them to, disappearing into a haze of renovations, sleep, and sex. After the crew goes home for the evening, Klara and I stay late working on the smaller details. Painting. Hanging pictures. Arranging lamps and making beds.
I also make an effort to catch her by surprise.
Late one night when we were both ready to leave, I caught her on the stairs and we couldn’t wait. All I could think about was that second day when I followed her around and kept watching her walk up and down the stairs in those fucking leggings that haunt my dreams.
I told her that too, in her ear, while I fucked her on those same stairs.
Some nights we’ve been too exhausted to do anything but fall into bed together. But that’s been amazing, too. Like it’s normal. Like we’re an ordinary couple, doing ordinary things .
Every morning I wake up with her in my arms and I grow surer that I want it to always be that way. And now there are three days until the deadline. The houses are almost done and we’re running out of time.
Klara is out on a run to get some finer decoration things. We need light bulbs and throw pillows and rugs and all the things that make a home look amazing but that you don’t really think about. And while she’s doing that, I have a plan.
We’ve saved her childhood home for last, so it’s still in rough shape. Which is going to work to my advantage. Or at least I think it will. I’m prepped with catnip, toys, food, and a carrier.
I didn’t lie to Klara—I don’t really care what her parents think about me. Who I am now is very different from who I was as a teenager, and I can’t change the past. But I also know that they probably won’t take kindly to a stray cat living in their house. And the cat seems nice enough.
“Hey cat,” I call softly as I step inside the door. “You in here?”
I bought cat treats, too. The kind that shake, and I dig them out of the bag. “Maybe you’ll like these.”
Shaking the container, I listen, and…nothing. But that’s okay. If he’s a stray, maybe he doesn’t know what this sound means. But I keep shaking the bottle and calling.
It takes a few minutes before I hear the soft scuffle of movement and see ears peek out from behind the doorway to the kitchen. “There you are.”
He stares at me, not moving.
“Come over here. I’m not going to hurt you. And I’ve got food! God knows what you’ve been eating.”
I sit down on the floor of the entry and open the packet of cat food and spread it on the little plate I brought. It takes him absolutely no time at all to come over and start chowing down. Fearless.
“Yeah, I figured you didn’t hate people.”
Reaching out, I pet his back and he doesn’t flinch at all. I have no idea where this cat has been, but he’s clearly used to people. “What do you say?” I ask. “What if we find you a home?”
Whenever I imagined having a pet, I always imagined having a dog. Not that I like one better than the other, a dog just seemed more fun. But I like this cat, and he reminds me of Klara. If this thing between us is ending in three days, I want something to hold on to.
Some people would say that that’s not a great reason to get a pet. On the contrary, I think it’s a great reason.
The cat finishes eating, and I grab the food. He seems perfectly content now and doesn’t complain at all when I pick him up and fold him under my arm. “Let’s get you checked out and see if you have an owner before I take you home, huh?”
Like he knows exactly what I said�
��I need to give him a name so he’s not just ‘cat’—he starts purring as I walk out the door and nearly crash headlong into Klara’s parents.
Ellen and Dave Miller are good people, and I can see why they might not like me. But I’m still hoping that they might change their minds.
Dave’s face immediately falls, glaring at me and the cat. “What the hell are you doing in our house?”
I keep my voice even and calm. “This cat’s been living inside. I didn’t think you’d want to deal with a cat trying to stay in one of your properties, so I’m taking him to the vet to see if he’s micro-chipped. If he’s not, I’m adopting him.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ellen’s face soften from the harsh expression that it wears.
“Well, unless you’re with my daughter, I don’t want you on our property unaccompanied. Got it?”
I nod. “That’s your choice, Mr. Miller. I’ll respect it.”
He’s still glaring at me. “I don’t suppose that telling you that I want you to stay away from my daughter would work, would it?”
“You’re right there. It’s Klara’s choice whether or not she’s with me. Not yours.”
“You’ll ruin her.”
Sighing, I lean down and slip the cat into the carrier before I turn back to them. “Mr. Miller, Mrs. Miller, I know who I was when I was younger. I know that I was a troublemaker and I acted out. One hundred percent, I leaned into the identity of this neighborhood.
“But that’s not who I am now. I own my own home and my own business where I’m very sought after for my skills—which is how I secured the crew for these properties. I’m not in debt and I’ve never been to jail. So, while I understand the memories that you have of me and I’m not bothered by that perception, I won’t just take abuse for no reason.”
Klara’s father is staring at me, and at the very least he’s not ripping into me. Now it’s Mrs. Miller’s turn. “What are your plans with Klara?”
I shake my head. “Right now, we have no plans. Neither of us expected this to happen. But I know that I don’t want it to end when this project is over, and I know that I’m going to do everything in my power to keep seeing her. Even if that means driving to Austin every chance I get. But whatever it is, it will be Klara’s choice.”
They’re both still staring, but now both of them seem uncomfortable. “I’m not going anywhere. If you’d like to talk to me more about what I’ve been doing since you knew me, I’d welcome it. If not, that’s your choice, too.”
There’s really nothing else to say, so I pick up the carrier and head to my car without looking back. I can feel their eyes on me the entire time.
I set the carrier in the front seat and take a look at him, totally comfortable. He’s got black and white fur in big patches. The very image of a stray. But cute, too. “What do you say we call you Oreo until we find out if you have a different name?”
I swear he looks at me like he understands me, and I grin at him as we pull away. Hopefully he won’t be chipped. I like this cat, and I want to see the look on Klara’s face when she comes home and sees him there.
My mind stumbles. I don’t know when I’ve stopped thinking of it as my house and just home, but it seems like I have. I swear that my heart skips a beat in my chest.
I’m in love with Klara.
Talking to her parents made me realize it.
Who am I kidding? I already knew. But it just jumped up and punched me in the face with those thoughts just now.
“Oh my god, I’m in love with her.”
Saying it out loud doesn’t make it any less real. Panic and excitement and dread drop down on me in a wave. Three days. I have three days to make her see that we can work. We’ve been so caught up in the renovation and each other, I don’t know if she’s even had time to think about it.
But I’m going to find out.
I start the car and pull away from the Miller’s house, leaving them staring after me in the dust. All it took was thirty seconds, and I’m yet again a completely different person.
I’m in love with Klara Miller.
And I think…I think that she’s in love with me, too.
14
Klara
I’m dragging by the time I get back to Rey’s house. The last week has been grueling, but I’m so proud of our progress on all the houses. There’s really only one left. And other than that, being with him has been…great. We’re a team. And so much more than that.
Thank fuck we decided not to work late tonight because the only thing that I want to do is drag him up to bed and actually fuck. And then sleep. Between him and the renovation, I haven’t been getting much of that.
“Rey?” I call as I walk in. He’s not in the living room or the kitchen.
“Office,” he says, voice muffled.
It hasn’t been long enough that I’m not still blushing at just the thought of his office. Eventually I’m sure the mortification will wear off. Not yet, though.
Eventually…
As if this isn’t all over in three days. I’m trying not to be sad about that. I knew it was coming, and still, I’m not ready.
I like my life in Austin, but if I’m honest, I am a bit lonely. That’s not really an excuse to uproot my life…but what if I did?
Shaking my head, I put down my bag and head for Rey’s office. I’m being ridiculous. This has been fun, but Rey doesn’t want to disrupt his life like that, and I would feel awful if I did.
“Hey—” I freeze as I push open the door to his office. “Is that a cat?”
Rey smirks. “Not just any cat. He’s the cat. This is Oreo.”
The animal is sprawled on his desk, washing itself like he was born to be there.
I think my mouth actually drops open. “You went and got…the cat?”
He actually looks like a cat himself right now, he’s smiling so widely. “I did, yeah. Took him to the vet, and he doesn’t have a microchip, so I decided to bring him home.”
It’s honestly not computing. “Do you even want a cat?”
“I’ve wanted a pet for a while,” he says with a shrug, “and I figured your parents wouldn’t want him, so…”
I cross the distance to the desk and look down at Oreo. He looks back at me with big green eyes. “You’re not going to try to trip me to death again, right?”
He chirps a little meow, and I smile. Before I even register it, I’m reaching out to pet him. “Well, I guess you’re friendly enough.”
“He’s a fucking ball of fluff,” Rey says with a chuckle. “Microchip or not, he’s been around people before.”
Rey pulls me down into his lap, and I relax. I love the way my body relaxes against his. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Then he sighs. “I actually ran into your parents while I was getting him.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. “How did that go?”
“About as well as you’d expect.”
I’m cut off from asking him more about it by my phone ringing, and my mother’s name on the screen. “Speak of the devil.” I swipe to answer the call. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. We’re over at the old house. We were wondering if you could come over and talk?”
“Is something wrong with the renovations?”
“No,” she says quickly. “No, it’s not that. They’re lovely. We just want to talk to you.”
I sigh but keep it quiet. “Okay, I’ll be over in a few minutes, okay?”
“Perfect.”
I hang up and lean my head on Rey’s shoulder. “That was my mother. They want to talk to me over at the house.”
He wraps his arms around me and hugs me a little closer. “Want me to go with you?”
“Will you? They probably want to talk to me alone.”
“I can stay away from the conversation and still be nearby. It’s fine.”
I shake my head. “You must think I’m crazy, still doing this for them when they’re so mean to you and everything.”
“They’re y
our parents,” he says gently. “I don’t know anybody—myself included—who has a simple relationship with their parents.”
“That’s fair.” He lifts me as he stands. “But let’s not make them hate me more by taking a long time.”
“You’re okay to leave Oreo here?”
Rey laughs. “He’s already proven he knows how to use a litter box. I swear this cat is ready to move in with us.”
I bite my lip at the word us, and the fluttering in my chest because of it. Rey and I need to talk about what’s between us, but I’d rather get my parents out of the way first.
They’re in our old house, and they frown when they see Rey with me, and my mom sighs. “I guess we’ll talk in the backyard, then.”
“Oh, this is definitely about you,” I say quietly.
He chuckles. “I kind of figured.” Rey kisses me on the forehead before I follow my parents into the warm evening air.
“How are you, Mom? I haven’t had a chance to ask.”
She shrugs. “I’m okay. I’m not out of the woods and need to go back for the next round of the treatment, but it’s nice to have a few days between. And your dad’s hip is doing well too.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I say quietly.
There’s a moment of awkward silence before my mother starts to speak again. “Listen, Klara. First, your Dad and I really want to thank you for what you’re doing for us. It’s really wonderful, and you’re doing such a good job. We’re really proud of you and the way you’ve started to make a career for yourself.”
I smile at her. I do love my parents, even if they’re frustrating. “Thank you. But?”
“But,” Dad says, “we don’t want to see you throw that career away over nothing.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Reynard,” Mom says. “I know you think he’s great—”