by Box Set
“No, I dared to walk in front of him,” he said dryly.
“Ah. Yes, such a thing will anger His Highness.”
He snorted. “It might not have been my finest moment when I told Irma that if he scratched me again, I’d kick him.”
“Been there, done that.” I nodded. “Accidentally, of course.”
His eyes twinkled. “Of course.” We held eye contact for a minute—a minute that sent a shiver down my spine. “All right,” he said, breaking it and looking around the full garage. “I have no idea where to start.”
I picked my way between boxes, going up onto my tiptoes and balancing so as not to knock over a precariously balanced stack. “Well, usually I’d be snarky and say we should start at the beginning, but there doesn’t appear to be one. Or a middle. Or an end.”
His laugh echoed off the walls. “You’re not wrong. I wouldn’t recommend moving with twins. In hindsight, I wish I’d left them with my parents while I moved everything here.”
“I can imagine.” I smiled and straightened a pile of boxes. “Okay. Let’s just shift some stuff around and see what room we can make.”
“That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say. Let me check on the twins, then I’ll start at this end.”
“It is suspiciously quiet,” I said over my shoulder.
“Exactly.” Brantley’s laugh lingered when he stepped back into the kitchen.
I had no idea how he did it.
I got started on moving the boxes. Some were light, so I stacked those first. They were labeled the most random things—towels, baby clothes, pillows, stuffed toys. It was chaos, to put it simply.
Mind you, if I were him, it’d be chaos, too. I guess keeping tiny humans alive was more important than unpacking stuff.
I shifted a box against the wall, hitting another in the process. I just about managed to grab it before it fell, and something clinked inside. This one wasn’t taped like the others, and my awkward grab of the box had the top gaping open.
I set it down on top of another. More clinking came from inside it, and I paused.
A part of me wanted to check it, but at the same time, it felt like a bit of an invasion of their privacy.
I peered over my shoulder. Brantley was still in the house, so if I looked quickly…
I opened the box before I could question myself. It was full of unwrapped photo frames and a couple of vases. Pulling the vases out to check over them, I dislodged the frames. One fell flat forward where the vases had been.
I put them both on the floor and straightened the frame. Then, I paused. A young woman was in the photo, clutching two babies in her arms. I felt no recognition at looking at her face, so I pulled it out and looked at it properly.
The babies were dressed in pink and blue, and as I looked over the photo, it dawned on me. This was the twins as babies—with their mom.
She was beautiful. Short, honey-blond hair showed where the twins got their now-golden-brown locks from. Big eyes, a round face, light freckles on her nose.
Yet, the twins looked nothing like her. Except for the freckles and the tint in their hair, they were both the double of Brantley.
“Right, I can help now. Sorry. It’s like being a referee sometimes.”
I jumped, dropping the frame. Thankfully, it fell into the box and not on the floor.
“Are you okay?” Brantley asked, peering over the garage at me.
“Yeah. I—” I stopped. “You, uh, you have frosting on your nose. Just here.” I rubbed the side of mine.
“Shit.” He wiped his hand over his face. “Did I get it?”
I nodded. “Should I ask?”
His lips curled to the side. “Barbie and Iron Man got married. Apparently, Superman started a cake fight, and Batman took offense to it. Rainbow Dash tried to save her, and that’s apparently how frosting ended up all over the sofa.”
“You had me up until Rainbow Dash.”
“My Little Pony. Stupid names,” he murmured, then shook his head. “Thanks. For the frosting.” He tapped his nose. “How are you doing over there?”
“Oh, I…” I paused. “I almost knocked this one over, then something sounded like it smashed, so I was just checking it over.”
He frowned. “Did anything? Smash?
“Oh, no.” I bent down and picked up one of the vases. “All fine.”
He picked his way through the boxes the same way I had and joined me. I hesitated, holding the vase close to my chest as he reached for the top and opened it.
Hesitantly, he picked up the photo. I peered up at him through my lashes, watching as a slight smile toyed with the edges of his mouth. “You’re probably wondering why there’s a whole box of photos of her, right?”
“No,” I lied.
He looked at me, one eyebrow raised.
“I didn’t know all of them were of her, so I didn’t, but now I am,” I admitted.
He laughed quietly, setting the frame back in the box. He took the vase from me, replaced it, and did the same with the other. Then, he folded the box flaps so it was completely closed.
Chapter 8
“It’s easier,” he said, moving away. He lifted up a box marked ‘gym stuff’ and moved it like it weighed nothing. “The twins don’t remember her, even though they know their mommy is an angel. I moved us here for a fresh start, and for now, keeping it all together, out of the way, is part of that.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. So, I said nothing.
He turned, half-smiling. “You look like you pity me.”
“I don’t know that pity is the right word,” I said quietly, straightening the picture frame box up. “I feel bad for you. And the twins, obviously.”
“I’ve accepted it. Honestly, the hardest part of everything was the adjustment after she’d died. She did most of the parenting while I worked, and all of a sudden, I had these two people who now needed me to do stuff I’d never done before. I had help, but…” He sighed and shrugged a shoulder. “Every time my family or friends looked at me, it was with pity. I’d proposed to her before she got pregnant, then when they were eight months old, we found out about her cancer.”
“I’m sorry.” I let my fingers fall from the box.
“I was ready for it. It was hard, but now I finally feel like we’ve settled.” He shifted another box. “When they’re ready to know about her, I’ll tell them. Until then, it’s easier to start fresh.”
“It kinda sounds like you’re keeping her locked away for yourself.”
“I am.” He turned and met my eyes. “Like I said—easier. I’ll never move on if I’m surrounded by her.”
“Did you ever get married?”
“No. Honestly, we’d never even planned it, past getting engaged. Weird, right?”
“Not really. My best friend got engaged when she was nineteen and straight up said she never saw them getting married.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Then why did she say yes?”
“She likes shiny things. Oh, and she was really shallow.”
Brantley laughed, the genuine sound wiping any trace of sadness from his face. “Fair enough. Is she still shallow?”
I pinched my finger and thumb together, leaving a small gap. “Little bit. And she still likes shiny things, although she tends to collect them herself now. Bit like a blackbird.”
“Isn’t it crows that like shiny things?” He tilted his head to the side. “Along with small children, of course.”
“Crows like small children?”
“What?”
“You asked if crows like shiny things along with small children.”
He stared at me, confusion clouding his eyes. “No, I meant that small children like shiny things as well.”
I blew out a breath. “Oh, thank god. I was about to have nightmares over crows eating small kids.”
“You’re not the sharpest tool in the box this morning, are you?”
“Hey. I—” I pointed my finger at him, mouth open, and stopped.
I had no response to that.
Actually, I did.
I skirted the boxes and jabbed my fingertip in his arm. Damn it, that bicep is made of rock. “Move your own boxes.”
He burst out laughing and reached for me when I tried to move away. “Kali—”
“I’m going to check on the superhero wedding party.” I stepped back, waving my arm out of his reach.
And tripped.
A squeal left my mouth as I tripped over a box. Still laughing, Brantley darted forward and grabbed me before I could hit the ground. His hands were hot on my waist, and my heart thundered against my ribs—from the near-fall or his hands, I didn’t know.
He pulled me up to standing straight, and the only thing stopping our bodies from touching was the way I held my arms to my chest. My fingers grazed my neck and the skin beneath my chin, and I swallowed hard when I looked up and met his eyes.
Inches.
That was how much distance there was between our mouths. Between my glossy, red lips and his soft, pink ones. So close that his breath tickled across my cheek warmly.
So close that I could see the hint of darker blue flecks in the turquoise of his irises. So close that I could see the shadow his eyelashes cast over his skin whenever he blinked.
That I could see the dimple, half-hidden by the scruff on his jaw, as his lips pulled to one side.
“Sadly,” he said quietly, still smiling, “You have to be a superhero to join the wedding party, and you just proved you aren’t.”
“Rainbow Dash doesn’t sound like a superhero. Unless it’s a superhero on a sugar high.”
“But she can fly.” His eyes danced with laughter. “You were not even close to that a second ago.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but stopped short as the words caught in my throat.
He was teasing me again.
Except this time, he was touching me while he did it, and my heart was going crazy. Boom, boom, boom. It beat faster and faster until my pulse thundered in my ears, and I drew in a sharp breath. All it did was dry out my mouth, and my lips followed.
I wet my lips with my tongue.
He glanced down at my mouth. He just barely tightened his grip on my waist, his fingers twitching as he fought the battle between looking at my lips and meeting my eyes.
Oh god, this is wrong.
I wanted him to kiss me. Right now. Out of nowhere. In the musty garage where the air conditioner had stopped working yet again, because that was so fucking romantic.
What was wrong with me?
“Noooo! Ewi! Bwing back Twiwight! Noooooooo!” Ellie’s voice reached a crescendo that slammed into me as the scream got closer and closer to the door.
Brantley and I parted like the other was on fire. I ran my fingers through my hair and looked away, my cheeks heating up furiously.
“What on Earth is going on?”
“He stole Twiwight,” a red-faced, sobbing Ellie said by the door. She sniffed. “He won’t wet Barbie get married, and I need Twiwight because she the bwidesmaid.”
At least, that’s what I thought she’d said. It was hard to tell between the snot and the crying.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brantley get on one knee and sit Ellie on the step. As I pretended not to look, he lifted the hem of his shirt and wiped at her eyes. Then, he pulled it off, and wiped her nose with it.
Damn it. That should not be a sweet thing to do.
Shame my heart didn’t get the message. It swooned right out of the garage.
“Okay,” he said softly. “Is that a bit better?”
She wiped her nose and nodded. “I want Twiwight back.”
He stood up. “Eli! Come here.”
There was silence.
“I’m going to count to five,” Brantley continued. “And if you don’t come here by the time I get there, your sister gets the remote control all afternoon.”
I rolled my eyes. “Such a man threat to make.”
He looked over his shoulder and winked.
Okay. Back muscles, winking, and gray sweatpants?
Shoot me down and call me Sally. I think I just came on the spot.
I was certainly a little uncomfortable down there, that was for sure.
I peered at him as he started to count. Yup. Definitely uncomfortable. From the shoulders right down to the dimples at the base of this spine…
“No! I am not watching Sofia all day!” Eli appeared as if from nowhere, and I suspected he was a lot closer than he’d pretended to be.
Brantley folded his arms across his chest, the snotty, tear-stained t-shirt hanging from one hand.
I gave up all pretense of not watching and, well, watched.
“Please give your sister back Twilight Sparkle.”
Eli frowned and held the purple pony closer to him. “No.”
“I’m not going to ask you again.”
“She won’t give me Eye-on Man!”
Eye-on Man. Oh, my god.
Brantley sighed. “Ellie, Barbie is going to have to marry Ken.”
Ellie folded her arms across her chest. “But Ken was kissing her fwiend.” She frowned. “Bad Ken.”
I bit the inside of my cheek so I didn’t laugh.
“Very bad Ken,” Brantley agreed. “He’ll have to stop kissing her friend so he can marry Barbie. If you give Eli Iron Man, he’ll give you Twilight Sparkle back.”
She tilted her chin up, peering down her nose at Brantley. As her little lips pursed into displeasure, you could almost see the cogs of her mind whirring to make the decision.
Then, she slumped. “Fine,” she sighed. “Ewi can had Iron Man.”
God, I loved the way she talked.
“Here you go.” Eli held out the pony.
Ellie scrambled and took it. “Fank you.”
“Now, go get Iron Man, and leave each other alone, okay? You can have a snack soon.”
They both nodded in perfect sync. They even turned and ran in sync.
“You’d think I’d be used to that,” Brantley said, turning to me with a speculative look on his face. “But…Nope. Not at all.”
I couldn’t help the smile that stretched across my lips. “It makes me want to run for the hills, honestly. It’s really weird.”
“That’s nothing. Not really.”
“What does that mean?”
He threw his t-shirt through the door and moved for a box. His muscles flexed as he picked it up, and shit, this was not in my contract!
“They didn’t speak until they were three. Not properly. I swear they can communicate with each other without speaking.” He checked the side of a box and grunted when he picked it up.
“Isn’t that a thing, though? Don’t they say that some twins do have some weird connection where they can communicate without words?”
“I think I heard that somewhere, too.” He huffed as he put down the box. “It’s weird. I don’t know if they couldn’t speak until they were three, or if they simply chose not to. Whatever it was, when they started properly, it took them about two weeks to go from saying twenty words a day to having conversations with everyone, no matter who they were.”
“I can’t imagine them doing that,” I said dryly. “They’re so quiet.”
He laughed. “And to add insult to injury, they can’t pronounce the ‘L’ sound, but if you ask Eli to name dinosaurs, he can say half of their names perfectly. At seven a.m., he told me he was a “vewociwaptor” with “fedders” on his arms. I don’t even know what a velociraptor is.”
I paused, hands on a box, and gazed over at him. “It’s a dinosaur,” I said slowly.
He stared back at me flatly. “Shut up. I thought it was a breed of dog.”
I tried to glare at him, but there was a playful glint in his eye that made it impossible not to grin. “Has anyone ever told you you’re pretty sarcastic?”
“It’s how I weed out the idiots from the people worth talking to.” He winked and picked up a pink bike. “The idiots don’
t get sarcasm.”
“Huh. That explains why I barely have friends. Most of the people in this town are idiots. Now, I feel better.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Oh no, they really are idiots.”
“Not that part,” he said through gentle laughter. “The part about you not having friends.”
I shuddered. “I spend all my working hours dealing with people. I do not want to have to do that after work, too.”
That gentle laughter got louder. “Then, I’m honored you’re here and talking to me when you shouldn’t be.”
I mock-curtseyed. “As you should be.”
He heaved a large box full of clinking things up and set it on top of another one. He looked over at me, a half-smile creeping onto his face, and shook his head. “How long until that furniture arrives?”
I opened my mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by the sound of something large pulling up outside. “I’m gonna go with right now.”
“Shit,” he muttered, looking at the garage.
“You the angry lady who called and demanded we not deliver this today?”
I glared at the delivery driver and held out my hand for a pen.
His eyes widened, and he extracted a pen from his chest pocket, clicked it, and handed it to me.
I scrawled my signature on the bottom of the paper on the clipboard to confirm I’d received the delivery.
“Wasn’t it obvious when she insisted upon checking inside all the boxes to make sure everything was there before she’d do that?” Brantley nodded to the clipboard as I passed it back.
The delivery guy made eye contact with him and gave a quick raise of his eyebrows as if to say, “Yeah, it should have been.”
I shot Brantley a hard look before clicking the delivery guy’s pen and passing it back. “Then your company should pay attention to its customers. I booked the delivery for a certain day, and that’s when I expected it. Not a damn week early.”
Delivery guy shrugged. “Sorry, Miss. I deliver what they give me. Take it up with the manager.”
“I tried. Hence your delivery note.”
Brantley pushed off the side of the garage door where he’d been leaning as I checked all the boxes. “Thank you,” he said to the driver, taking hold of my shoulders and steering me back inside the garage the way he had done with Ellie when I’d arrived an hour earlier.
