Page 32 of Fifty-Fifty

That’s it.

* * *

I spend the rest of my day in Photoshop, digitizing the logo for the website. Once I’m finished, I show it to Beau, who falls in love right before my eyes. I call in a few favors to get the site spotlighted in hopes of generating some traffic, but I guess we’ll have to wait to see if it works.

We have two weeks to finish getting everything ready before the festival, and we’re sitting in the kitchen, discussing possible remodels that won’t cost an arm and a leg in hopes of sprucing up the place.

“All right, Beau.” I pull out a barstool. “Hit me. What’s the one thing you’ve wanted to do to this place that you haven’t had time to do. Other than the roof, which is already done, and the shutters, which I’ve already fixed, and the yard, which has already had a decent makeover.” I grin.

She blushes as I list off all the things I’ve helped with in the past week. Chewing on her lower lip, she scans the kitchen. I can practically see the wheels turning in her cute little head as Mac munches on a bowl of Cheerios.

“I’ve been wantin’ to paint the place.”

My brows nearly reach my hairline. “Like, the whole place?”

She grimaces. “Maybe.”

A booming laugh escapes my throat as I consider the massive job––and expense––that would be. I scan the room with a fresh perspective. The walls are a yellowish gold with olive green accents.

She’s right, it’s pretty outdated.

Rubbing my hand over my face, I wonder if I’m going to regret this. “And what color are you wanting to change it to?”

Her nose scrunches up in embarrassment when she says, “I was thinkin’ Benjamin Moore’s Chantilly Lace or White Dove.”

I cover my mouth to contain the laughter from making another appearance. “I’m sorry… Chantilly Lace or White Dove? Given this a little thought, Beau?”

She walks around the counter before shoving me in the chest playfully. “Hey! A girl can dream, can’t she?”

This time, I can’t hold back my laughter. “You dream of paint colors, Beau? Isn’t that a little…” My voice trails off, waiting for her to fill in the blank with a quirked brow.

“Pathetic?” she finishes for me, returning my smile as her face heats.

“I was going to go with elderly, but pathetic works, too,” I tease.

She covers her face while giggles bubble up out of her. “I know! I’m so ashamed!”

I throw my arms around her neck, pulling her into a friendly hug as we both bask in her particular brand of crazy. She buries her head into my chest as her back shakes with amusement.

After a moment, our laughter dies down, leaving us both breathless when I whisper, “All right, then. Chantilly Lace or White Dove. I’ll go to the department store and order the colors today.”

“You don’t think that paintin’ the whole inn is too much work?” She’s too embarrassed to look up at me, but the warm breath from her question soaks through my shirt, leaving a tattoo on my left pec.

“Not for you, Beau,” I reply, honestly. “Let’s make those dreams come true, okay?”

She sighs before pulling away slightly and finally gaining the courage to see my reaction.

“Thank you. No one’s ever cared about my dreams before. Even if they are a little unrealistic.”

I brush my lips across her forehead before I can stop myself. “I care, Beau. Maybe a little too much.”

She closes her eyes as though my confession physically touches her. But she doesn’t say anything. Not right away.

After a minute of thick silence, she whispers, “Why do you care, Noah? Why do you care about my dreams?”

I clear my throat. “Maybe because you deserve the world, Beau. You just need someone strong enough to deliver it to you.”

I just wish I were him.

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