Page 23 of Take My Hand

I actually don’t know, and I can’t pretend like I should know what she wants or needs.

When she said she didn’t have any friends living in the area, I was a little surprised because I know she’s lived in LA for a while now. But her slumped shoulders and eagerness to see a familiar face gave me the indication that her friends likely chose sides in the breakup, and they didn’t choose hers.

Their loss.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Carter says, bobbing her head.

I’d almost think my comment didn’t affect her in the slightest, if it wasn’t for the red creeping up her neck and the smallest shift in the rise and fall of her chest.

She’s wearing a light green tank top that clings to her toned body, giving just the smallest hint of cleavage, which I’ve been actively trying to avoid looking at since we got here. Coupled with her tiny shorts, messy low bun with a few of the shorter strands falling out, and flush to her skin from the heat, I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off her.

And seeing her grab the drill lying next to her and using it like it’s an extension of herself reminds me of seeing her in the same type of element she’s in with her camera in hand.

Fuck, she’s pretty.

In a blink, she’s already got one of the drawers assembled and is motioning for me to pass her one of the next large pieces that’s behind me.

By the way she effortlessly works on fitting the pieces together, screwing the handles on with ease and drilling the tracks for the wheels to glide on, I can’t believe she put up with me trying to lead the project for so long.

“How’d you learn to do all of this so well?”

She’s bent over one of the drawers, trying to get the perfect angle for another screw. “My dad owns a construction company. He builds houses, so I grew up on job sites and knew my way around a tool belt before I knew how to apply makeup.”

“So I guess you didn’t really need our help in putting any of this together, just carrying it in for you.”

She lifts her head and flips it to the side, trying to get the bangs that fall into her face out of the way, but they slide back in her way.

I grab the strands and push them behind her ear for her, fingers lingering a moment longer than they should before I pull my hand back and place it behind me to lean on, as if that will help me keep my hands to myself.

She’s frozen for a moment, eyes locked on me, before she ducks her head and refocuses her attention on the drawer.

“Thank you,” she says before lining up the drill and getting the screw into its place. Satisfied with the hold, she sits back on her feet. “No, I don’t really, but I appreciate it. It’s overwhelming how much I still have to do to get this place in order, so it’s nice to have you guys here and willing to help.”

“Of course. Although I will say, you know you can buy furniture that comes intact, right?”

“So out of touch.” She sighs, mockingly. “Some of us regular people need to get the cheap stuff that you have to do yourself.”

I rear back in mock confusion. “You mean places don’t just come fully furnished with beautiful, one-of-a-kind pieces imported from various countries?”

Carter laughs, the sound bright and airy, filling the room and my chest.

She shakes her head. “And since I’m starting from scratch, this is what I get.”

“But you lived in a place before this. Was none of that stuff any good anymore?”

Her face clouds over. “It was nice stuff. I had this beautiful coffee bar that I had refurbished from a thrift store. It was a secretary originally, but as soon as I saw it, I knew it would make the cutest little cart. So I got it and buffed out the knicks and dings, sanded it down, and stained it a beautiful walnut color. I even added wallpaper on the inside cabinets that matched a set of teacups I had in there.”

“Did it get lost in the move?” I ask, not recalling seeing it in her living room.

“I’m not sure where it is. Maybe in a landfill somewhere, maybe in a resale shop again, maybe still back at my old place. I have no clue.”

“What do you mean?”

It’s not like a large item of furniture like that is exactly easy to lose track of.

“Daniel packed up all of my things while I finished out the tour and put them into a storage unit for me to collect. And while I have all of my clothes, photos, stuff like that, none of the furniture that I had.” She pauses, jaw tensing. “We had, was in there. And when I texted him to ask about any of it, he blocked me.”

Anger rushes through me, causing my spine to stiffen and pulling me up to sit at full attention. “He can’t do that. You have a right to your things.”

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