Page 74 of Lovingly Restored

“I want to be happy about that, Isaac. I really do, but this is too much drama for me.”

I step toward her, and, thank god, she doesn’t move away. She stays rooted to the ground so that when I brush her hair off her face, I can get a good look at those chocolate eyes.

“I wasn’t thinking. It was stupid and could have cost me a lot. It’s just…my workshop? Really? There was no need for him to cut the lock and go in there to survey the property.”

Shit.

“The workshop. I’ve got to secure it before it’s dark.”

She steps in front of me, smoothing her hands over my shoulder. “Relax, Berg already put a new lock on it. I saw him working while I was with Mummo.”

“Okay.” I nod and blow out a breath. I’m still too wound up. “That’s good.”

“He was coming by to stick some forms under our door when he saw all the trucks and commotion. You’re lucky he did.”

I owe him one, for sure.

Ashlyn sighs, and I can tell she’s calming down, too.

“Guess you’re not so good at casual yourself, are you, big guy?

“I guess not,” I say, shrugging and pulling her in for a kiss.

“One kiss…then I need to look at that hand.”

“It hurts real bad,” I say, smiling against her lips.

“I’ll fix you up, Lauri.”

I make that one kiss count, pressing her against the brick hearth. Only Ashlyn could take the worst day ever and turn it into the best.

Chapter twenty-four

Ashlyn

“Doyouwanttotalk about it?”

I’m sitting cross legged in an old armchair in the corner of the workshop, an open book in my lap. Isaac’s been pissy all week. Dodging my questions and doing a damn good job of distracting me when we fall into bed each evening. Inhisbed. Just like he said.

“No.”

He switches out the dying battery on his drill. Despite the fact Berg already replaced the broken lock, he insisted a secondary lock was necessary. Personally, I don’t think Mr. Lauri will try to pull that crap again. He proved his point…whatever it was. He finishes and hooks his thumbs in the tool belt fastened around his waist.

“Don’t think you can get out of this conversation by doingthat.”

He widens his eyes and pushes his pelvis forward, smug at the effect he has on me.

I snap my book shut and cross my legs. “Spill it.”

His broad chest rises and falls, and I can tell he’s ready to talk.

“Fine. It was a hard first week. I knew it would be…but it’s still a challenge. I’m learning from my mistakes.”

“Nothing too serious?”

What can I say? I’m invested in this project, too. I want success for Isaac. He’s talked me through it twenty times.

“No, no. Backorders and general issues. I’m handling it.”

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