Page 41 of Daddy By Design

From what I could tell, the big box stores weren’t a million miles away, but they definitely weren’t the first stop for the locals. Before it got much darker, I turned myself back around and headed back to my house. The migraine hangover left me muzzy and unfocused.

I didn’t need to push it.

By the time I pulled up to my Airstream, the last of the sun was sinking beneath the tree line. I wouldn’t have electricity hooked up at the house until I could get an electrician out to check the wiring. God knew what I’d find inside.

When I’d taken my first walk-through, I’d been more interested in making sure the floors and frame of the house were solid. Windows and wires could be fixed, and the plumbing sure as hell would be needing an update.

As for the rest, it was a blank slate.

Just like me.

I looked back at the house a moment before I opened my door and frowned at the shadow in the window.

“Just a trick of the light,” I muttered and stepped up into my trailer.

The first thing I noticed when I walked in was Dahlia’s scent. It should have been the food she’d cooked, but no, the sharp scent of peaches with the lingering warmth of honey drifted over me.

Annoyed, I went right to the window and propped it open to flush it out with the breeze coming off the lake.

“Much better.”

I didn’t need that woman lingering anywhere in my life. Even if I was almost certain it would take a lot more than a strong breeze to sweep her out of my head.

ELEVEN

I woke to my cheek pressed to my drafting table in my bedroom. My back screamed as I straightened. “Gross,” I muttered as I wiped drool off my sketch. “Great.”

Gizmo jumped on my lap, his sweet face intent.

“Sorry, buddy.” I gave him a long stroke. “I definitely missed your last meal.” I scooped him up and tucked him up against my shoulder like a baby. “What are we thinking?”

Gizmo chirped in my ear.

“Is that for shrimp or chicken?” I asked as I padded into the living room toward my kitchen island.

He butted his head against my neck. “Let’s try the chicken.” I set him on the stool, and he watched me with his huge green eyes.

I’d been working on the drawings for the last four days—through the whole weekend and around every other job I had. My eyes were so dry, I was going to have to stop and get another bottle of eyedrops. I’d poured over the archives in the Crescent Cove library, finding photos of the house when it had originally been built.

The blueprints were available and had given me a good starting point. Materials were also better at this point, so I had more options for glass and the arches now. Thanks to 3D printing and molds, I could lean into the Gothic architecture.

I set down Gizmo’s bowl and he sniffed it contemplatively before giving me a long look, then he ate with gusto.

Chicken won the fight tonight. Probably because I’d been late for second dinner.

My own stomach grumbled since I’d ignored it, as well. My own food supply was sorely lacking. The kitchen was almost back to normal after Davis had come in and cleaned out the water damage. Luckily, the needed replacements had only been a few slats of the hardwood and a bit of baseboard on the tile part of the kitchen floors. There was a plywood patch for now and everything else had been just a matter of using the wet vac to clear out the water.

Didn’t stop me from putting a half a dozen of those dehydrating jars around to kill the damp smell.

Gizmo wasn’t psyched about getting locked in my bedroom while I was at work, but it was better than another call to maintenance. I was also running out of time to find a new home for him.

Maybe I could convince the girls to let me make him a mascot at the design studio.

Then again, I’d worry about him escaping, so that probably wouldn’t work. I sighed and stroked a hand down his sleek back. “What am I going to do with you, buddy?”

I opened the fridge for the second time and found the shelves were in the same empty state. I grabbed the lone yogurt on the second shelf and checked the date with one eye open. Two days past—good enough. I took a spoon out of my drawer and wandered out into my small living room.

Gizmo trotted after me, probably hoping to get a taste or two.

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