Page 69 of Finding Her Strength

...And here it comes.

“Boo!”

“Fuck!” Michael shouts, tossing his paintbrush into the air.

I stumble out of my hiding place, laughing with the other guys.

“I hate you all,” Michael grumbles, bending over to grab the paintbrush off the floor. “How did you even fit your fat ass in there?”

“It wasn’t easy but so worth it.” I wink.

“One of these days, I’m going to get you back, and you’re going to be pissed.”

“Nah, you shouldn’t dish it out if you can’t take it. Bring your A-game, bro.”

Shaking his head, he goes back to work. I follow behindhim to finish installing the vanity in one of the guest bathrooms upstairs. There are so many rooms in this house, it’s a bit ridiculous.

I wonder if Hope will want a big family or a small one. She may not want a family at all. We haven’t talked about it. Most of our time has been spent getting comfortable with each other. Even though I know she’s the one for me, I don’t want to push her too quickly. I thought giving her some time to adjust to me first was the right way to start our relationship.

Since she hasn’t seen the house in a while, maybe I can plan a big reveal for her, see if she’d want to move in when it’s finally ready. At this point, I’d be surprised if she didn’t, but you never know. She may want to keep her own space for a while longer.

With Hope firmly on my mind, I finish outfitting the bathroom, happy with the progress we’ve made today. Despite the never-ending list, we’re in the home stretch now.

I go downstairs, where the rest of the guys are working on the kitchen. They’re putting up the gray subway tile backsplash, which looks so good against the white cabinets. I double-check that the pallets of wood came in for the back deck, then after making my final rounds through the house, I tell everyone they can knock off for the day.

I send a quick text to Hope, letting her know I’ll be heading her way in a little bit. The guys all head out while I finish cleaning up my tools, prepping things for tomorrow. I’m ready to get home and stay in for a while. Maybe put on a movie for the sole purpose of having a make-out session with Hope like we’re teenagers.

The last couple of days have taken their toll on me. I know they’ve been even harder on Hope, especially knowing exactly why she’s been so stressed. I might see if I can sweet talk her into another bath tonight.

A noise behind me makes me turn, thinking one of the guys forgot something.

The punch comes out of nowhere, sending me flying backward.

Fuck, that hurt.

“That was more satisfying than I expected it to be.”

Despite the pain, I attempt to open my eyes to figure out who hit me. The voice sounds oddly familiar, but I can’t place it. I stand while my eyes focus. The guy who stopped by the other day is standing in front of me, holding a crowbar in his hand.

“I’ve imagined this moment many times over the last couple of weeks. It’s been incredibly difficult to wait for the right moment to enact my plan.”

“Who are you?” I ask, scanning the room for any weapon of my own. He timed it perfectly so I don’t have any of my tools lying out.

“Oh, right, introductions are in order. I’m Antony Malatelli, Hope’s husband.”

Fuck. I shook this guy’s hand. I had the opportunity to end him and never even knew it.

“I believe you meanex-husband.”

“Not so much. You see, the divorce was contingent upon my conviction. Seeing as how I’m a free man... She’s. Still. Mine.”

“Fuck you.” Lying asshole. There were no contingencies in the divorce; I saw the paperwork when Hope gave it all to Cooper. His lawyer probably lied to him so it wouldn’t create any bigger issues. Now it’s time to show Lord Fuckwad he can’t have whatever he wants.

Antony’s eyes harden, evil glinting bright in them. He comes at me with the crowbar, and I snatch a scrap piece of wood off the floor to use as a shield. His arm swings down, thunking against the wood so hard the vibrations move upmy arm. The wood is too cumbersome to continue holding, so I throw it hard at Antony.

He stumbles backward with the weight, and I use the momentum to gain the advantage. Landing two punches to his gut, he goes down hard. I get a third punch to his face before he responds with the crowbar still in his hand.

It lands hard on my ribs with an audible crack. I grit my teeth against the pain spreading through my entire upper body. I try to take the crowbar from him before he can get any other hits in with it. We grapple across the floor, both of us trying to overpower the other.

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