Hilariously Ever After

by Box Set

  My stepmom had then reassured me—out of earshot—that there were way more fuckboys in my generation and not to worry about it, but babies would be nice soon enough.

  So, with the little nugget of information that my parents wanted me to house a human being in my uterus pretty soon, I got into my truck and headed toward the Cooper house.

  I was armed with all the things I needed to soak off wallpaper. Not only was eight-twenty practically the middle of a night on a Monday—and certainly not a time my brain was able to function past “coffee”—but removing wallpaper was the worst. Tedious, messy, and time-consuming, I hated it.

  Nobody tell my dad.

  Still, I was ready. At the very least, the monotonous scraping against the wall would hopefully do the same thing to my brain. Scrape away the dreadful and slightly painful messages I’d been receiving.

  Oh, that’s right.

  Mr. Kinky Sub as Jayda had named him wasn’t in fact the worst.

  Nope, that was Mr. Hammer, who messaged me a very slick, “You’re a builder. I’m a builder. Wanna hammer a hole the wall together?”

  And to think—I’d almost been excited about the acknowledgment that I was, in fact, a builder, and not a secretary.

  I should have known it would be too good to be true.

  I took a deep breath as I pulled into the empty driveway of the Cooper’s house. It didn’t look as if anyone was here, and that had been par the course for the past week. We’d collided once, briefly, and that hadn’t even been at the house. I’d been using the spare key under the pot of flowers next to the door all week.

  I hated that. I always felt like someone was watching me pick it up and put it back.

  This morning was no different.

  I hopped out of the truck and checked my phone. I’d barely glanced up from it when I saw Mr. Ackerman walking his elderly Doberman, Dixie.

  “Good morning, Kali,” he said in his throaty, shaky voice. “Working for our nice, young neighbor?”

  “Good morning, Mr. Ackerman.” I smiled. “Yes, sir, I am.”

  “Good, good. Lovely young man. Cute kids, too. He’d be good for you.”

  Ahh, there it was. “That would be completely unprofessional of me.”

  “Only when you’re working for him.” He cackled, winked, and tipped his ever-present tweed cap at me. “Have a good day, Kali.”

  “You, too, Mr. Ackerman.” I smiled as he walked past the car, a whistle filling the air. When he’d gone far enough that he couldn’t see me and nobody else was around, I bent down and retrieved the little, silver key from beneath the almost-empty flowerpot.

  It clicked in the door, and when I pushed it open, I dropped the key in the blue dish on the side table and headed back for my things. Since I knew it would take me the best part of the day to strip off the walls and figure out the state of them beneath that paper, I’d only brought that stuff with me.

  I dragged the box inside, shut the door, and headed upstairs. I was used to the house being quiet—a Barbie doll on the stairs? Not so much.

  “Fucker!” I snapped, hissing as the sharp feel of the doll’s nose dug into the ball of my foot.

  You know what? Everyone always said about Lego being hell to step on—they never said a damn word about Barbie’s face.

  I wonder how she felt whenever Ken wanted her on his face.

  Ouch.

  I gently nudged the bitch doll to the side and finished my journey up the stairs and into Ellie’s room.

  Making sure there were no offending Barbies on the floor in here, I put my bag down, and got to work.

  “But I wanna jooooosh!”

  I startled, turning toward the door.

  “Get inside, please,” Brantley’s voice echoed up the stairs.

  “I. Wanna. Joosh!”

  “Elijah Cooper, get inside right this second.”

  “No!”

  Wide-eyed, I scraped a piece of wallpaper off.

  “Fine, then you can stand outside on the front steps and everyone will see how silly you are.”

  The door shut.

  My jaw dropped and I looked Ellie’s bedroom door.

  Did he just shut him outside?

  Banging against something downstairs confirmed that to be true.

  “Dad! Daddy! Daddy, pwease let me in!” Eli’s voice grew thicker. “Daddy!”

  The door opened. “Are you going to come in nicely now?”

  I didn’t hear his response, but I heard Brantley say, a lot quieter, “Now, ask nicely for a juice and I’ll get you on.”

  I heard nothing more, so I went back to scraping the paper off the wall.

  “Is that Kawi’s car outside?” Ellie’s little voice asked.

  “Yes.” The sound of cupboards opening and closing accompanied Brantley’s voice. “She’s in your room right now.”

  She gasped. “Can I go say hi?”

  Hesitation, and then, “No, let her work.”

  “I wanna say hiiiiii.”

  “I want to put the groceries away, but sometimes it sucks, okay? I’m sure she’ll come down and say hi soon.”

  “I wanna say hi now.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Ugh—I didn’t like kids. I never had, even when I was a kid. But here I was, contemplating going down there right now, because her little, lispy voice was making me want to.

  “Ellie…”

  I put down my scraper on the windowsill and turned to go downstairs. Honestly, I needed some water anyway, so it killed two birds with one stone.

  “Daddy…”

  “Hey,” I said, stepping slowly into the kitchen. “Do you mind if I get some water?”

  Brantley turned to look at me. Relief flitted across his face, mixed with the hint of happiness. “Hi—of course. There are some bottles in the fridge. Did we disturb you?”

  “Not at all,” I half-lied. “Thanks.” I grabbed a bottle and looked at Ellie, smiling. “Hey, Ellie. Hey, Eli.”

  Eli’s eyes widened. “Hi.” He looked away, at the floor.

  “Hi, Kawi!” Ellie bounced on the balls of her feet. “Are you doing my bedwoom?”

  “I’m pulling all the horrible paper off the walls.” I uncapped the water. “Do you wanna come see?”

  Eli narrowed his eyes and answered before she could. “Did you do my woom?”

  “Not yet. One room at a time.”

  “Why you do Ewwie’s first?”

  “Eenie meenie miny mo,” I answered, keeping my expression straight. “Next time, I’ll do yours first, okay?”

  He side-eyed me, putting the straw of his juicebox in his mouth and sucking on the apple juice instead of answering me.

  Ellie rolled her eyes. “He’s so gwumpy. Can I see my woom?”

  Their inability to say ‘r’ correctly was nothing less than completely adorable.

  Just like the dimple that indented her right cheek when she grinned hopefully at me.

  I glanced at Brantley.

  He shrugged a shoulder. “As long as it’s not dangerous.”

  “Nothing can be more dangerous than my shock when I stomped on Barbie’s face this morning.”

  “Welcome to my life.” He smirked, his turquoise eyes glinting enticingly.

  Lord, I hoped it wasn’t.

  “Come on, Ellie.” I motioned for her to follow me. “Just look, okay? Don’t touch.”

  “Okay, Kawi. No touching.”

  “That’s right.” I fought the smile as her tiny stomps followed me up the stairs. “See? It’s not great. Just the paper from the walls.”

  She sighed heavily. “I fort you might be done.”

  I laughed. “No, not yet. It’s going to take a couple of weeks.”

  “How many sweeps is that?”

  “Sweeps?”

  “Yeah. Sweeps.” She put her hands together between her shoulder and head and fake-snored.

  “Ahhh. Sleeps.” I nodded, picking my scraper up in my right hand and my sponge from my bucket in the left. I squeezed. “I’
m not sure. Sometimes it doesn’t go right so it takes a bit longer. Can I tell you when I’m nearly done?”

  She blinked at me. “’Kay, but not too wong, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you doing my woom first?”

  “I’m doing both yours and Eli’s at the same time.”

  She wrinkled up her face, causing her nose to crinkle in the most adorable way. “I want mine first.”

  I pressed my sponge against the wall and put it back in the bucket before I scraped the paper. “Sorry, Ellie. It’s fair if I do them at the same time. Besides, I need to let your walls dry before I can get them ready to paint. It’s a lot of work, so it’s easier if I share it.”

  She sniffed. “What are you doing wight now?”

  “Getting rid of this old paper. See?” I pulled the scraper away and took the edge of the damp paper between my fingers. I pulled it down, tearing it away from the wall and dumping it onto the floor.

  “Wow,” she whispered. “Can I had a go?”

  The way she spoke killed me. “At pulling the paper?”

  “All of it.”

  I shook my head. “The scraper is sharp. Come see.” I bent to one knee and held it up. “Much too sharp for little girls. Why don’t you have a go with the sponge, I’ll scrape, then I’ll let you rip some paper off?”

  She clasped her hands in front of her body, swayed, and looked away. Contemplation crossed her tiny features before she grabbed her dress. “My dwess might get dirty.”

  The princess room made a lot of sense.

  “Nope. And if you’re careful, it won’t even get wet.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Sure as sure can be.”

  She sighed. “Okay, but if my dwess gets wet or dirty, I’m telling Daddy.”

  “I can’t argue with that. Grab the sponge,” I instructed. “And squeeze it really, really hard.”

  Ellie lifted the sponge as high as she could and squeezed.

  Water splashed.

  Everywhere.

  She squealed as it splatted her dress.

  “Okay, not that high.” I lowered her hands. “Right there. It’s okay, it’s just water. It’ll dry.”

  She looked at me dubiously, but tried again, albeit with a few scathing looks at the wet spots on her very pretty dress. “Like this?”

  “Yes!” I smiled as she squeezed the sponge’s excess water out a couple inches above the bucket. “Now, rub this bit of wall here and get the paper wet. You might have to do it a couple times.”

  She scooted over.

  She kicked the bucket.

  I just caught it before it splashed everywhere—not that it saved my booted feet, of course.

  Awesome. I now had to spend the rest of the day with wet shoes and wet boots.

  “I’m sowwy!” Ellie looked at me with wide eyes. “I didn’t see it!”

  Reason number two I disliked kids. They didn’t “see” anything.

  “It’s okay,” I said, moving the bright red bucket out of the tiny tornado’s path of destruction. “It’s just water, right? You should wash the wall now before the sponge gets too dry, okay?”

  “Okay. Here?”

  “Right there.”

  Ellie wiped the sponge across the wall a few times. “Wet enuss?”

  I touched my fingertips to it. Only just. “Perfect,” I said to her.

  She grinned.

  “Fingers out the way,” I instructed. “Just in case.”

  She held her arms above her head…And dropped the sponge into the bucket. Water splattered up my leg, but I ignored it and scraped the damp paper down the wall until it was big enough for her to grab.

  “Okay, now, grab it.” I gently held it out.

  She pinched it with her finger and thumb. Slowly, she pulled, leaning backwards as she ripped the paper from the wall.

  “Careful. You’re going to—”

  Thud.

  She hit the ground with her full weight, her butt slamming into the floor and rocking the already-unsafe floorboard. She stared up at me with wide eyes, the bit of wallpaper tucked safely in the palm of her hand.

  Footsteps thundered up the stairs.

  “What the—” Brantley stormed into the room, stopping in the doorway, gripping either side, and staring at us both before his gaze homed in on Ellie. “Ellie!”

  “Look, Daddy! I helping!” She grinned and held up the bit of wallpaper. “Kawi said I could pull the paper offt!”

  He blinked at her—again and again. Finally, he turned his gaze to me. It wasn’t angry or annoyed, just…mildly amused and curious.

  “She wanted to pull the paper off. I tried to tell her she’d fall, then she fell. She tore it a little too fast.” I pinched two fingers together.

  He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Damn,” he breathed. “That girl. I swear.”

  “Are you angwy?” Ellie whispered.

  “No, princess. No.” Brantley came over to her and crouched down, kissing the top of her head. “I heard a bang and got scared. Maybe you should come down for a snack and let Kali finish her work now.”

  “What if Kawi’s hungry?”

  “I have a lunch date with my best friend,” I reassured her. “Don’t worry. I’ll go for an hour then I’ll be right back.”

  Ellie looked at me. “Can I help you aster?”

  I looked to Brantley for confirmation. I wasn’t a fan of the idea, but if she agreed to pull the paper slowly and carefully, I couldn’t say no.

  “Paper only,” he said to her. “And you do exactly what Kali says.”

  I nodded to agree.

  “And you eat your fruit snack and all your lunch up before I say yes,” Brantley agreed, sliding her hair behind her ear. “Is that a deal?”

  Ellie sighed heavily before holding out her little hand. “That’s a deal.”

  Chapter 5

  And that was how I ended up with two helpers on Tuesday morning.

  Apparently, just taking one twin wasn’t enough. Thanks to Ellie’s help yesterday, I’d barely gotten through her room, never mind starting Eli’s the way I’d planned to.

  However, today was a new day, and that new day involved Brantley joining me with a scraper and sponge while the kids used their face cloths and plastic, toy knives he’d dug out of one of the mountains of boxes.

  It was awkward. I didn’t enjoy having help when I was working unless it was someone in the business or my dad, but it was even worse when the guy helping me was as hot as Brantley.

  All the hot guys I knew, I’d known for years. We were friends, and aside from misplaced teenage crushes and a few—ahem—slightly inappropriate adult fantasies I’d since grown out of, I couldn’t see them that way anymore. Our relationship was mostly business now, and it was pretty obvious that my dating life was severely lacking in the hot guy department.

  Well, the decent hot guy department.

  Not to mention we had nothing to talk about. I didn’t know a damn thing about him, and after my foot-in-mouth moment yesterday, I was afraid to ask.

  Honestly, I’d probably mean to say, “How are you?” and it would come out, “How big is your cock?”

  That’s just the way it was for me.

  And it wasn’t the least bit appropriate with the tiny people on the other side of the room. Who were making absolutely no progress with their paper scraping. But then they were using bright pink and blue plastic knives, so what did I expect?

  “So,” Brantley said, breaking the agonizingly awkward silence that had lingered between us for almost an hour. “What made you go into building? Handywork? What do you call it?”

  “Handywork, generally, because we do a bit of everything.” I peeled a long strip off paper off the wall.

  God, it was so satisfying. Almost comparable to an orgasm.

  Jesus. I needed to get laid. Or a life.

  Preferably a life in which I got laid. Regularly.

  “Interesting. Your dad is a carpenter?”

/>   I nodded. “He loves it all, but that’s his true passion. He’s the reason I do this.”

  “It’s different, don’t you think? I’ve never met any woman who wanted to go into this field.”

  “Different is a word for it,” I said slowly. “I don’t think it’s the career I chose. More in that it chose me, and I fell in love with it as a young girl. Now, I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. I don’t think I could do anything else.”

  “Really? You wouldn’t do anything else?”

  “I’m gonna be a superhewo,” Eli said, knocking the knife against the wall.

  Ellie blew a raspberry. “You can’t fwy,” she said in that way only four-year-olds can—sarcasm and sass wrapped up in innocence. “Superhewos have to fwy.”

  “Not true,” Brantley replied. “Most of them can’t actually fly.”

  Eli grinned. “I need a cape and then I can!”

  “Capes don’t make you fwy!” Ellie shouted, pointing her plastic knife at him. “Magic makes you fwy!”

  “Superhewos aren’t magic! They’re super!”

  Well. That was a good argument.

  “Superhewos are stupid,” Ellie carried on. “Who wants to be beaten up by bad guys? You should be a pwincess instead.”

  Eli wrinkled his face up as if the idea was completely disgusting. “Only girls are pwincesses!”

  “Then I’ll be a pwincess and you can’t come in my castle!”

  “I’ll destroy your castle!”

  “Okay!” Brantley put down his scraper and stepped between them, then crouched down. “Ellie, if you want to be a princess, be a princess. But it’s only nice to let your brother in your castle, okay? And Eli—if you destroy her castle, that makes you a super-villain, not a super-hero.”

  Eli frowned.

  “You’ll be Loki and not Thor.”

  “I don’t wanna be Woki,” he said in a small voice. “Ewwie, if you wet me in your castle, I won’t break it.”

  Ellie narrowed her eyes. “Will you save my castle from super-viw—super…bad people?”

  Brantley fought a smile.

  “Only if you have candy.”

  “Okay. I have candy.”

  “Shake hands,” Brantley ordered. “Then it’s the law.”