Page 157 of Before Now

Colton steps off the bus and props next to the door, just watching from a distance. Because for as much shit as he gives Remi, neither of them ever stops.

“I’m sending you a video, but watch it on your computer. I get that sexy face.”

As I text it to her, she goes all skeptical on me. “Are you going to tell me what the video is? Because I don’t find a cryptic Foster nearly as cute as you do.”

“Fucking liar.” I chuckle when she glares. “Fine. The video’s from the guy about the thing.”

She bites down on her lower lip to suppress a smile.

“Tell me when you hit play.”

In the thirty seconds she takes to adjust and pull up the video, my pulse starts racing. Sending her Sage and Miles was risky, but this one has me nervous for an entirely different reason. This is what was already in the works when Chase said to do more, grovel, and build the life I’ve wanted with her.

Depending on her reaction, it could add a tick to all three.

“Am I actually allowed to watch it when I hit play?” she asks, brat fully engaged. “Or would you prefer I maintain the mystery and only listen?”

“You’re going to watch it, and I’m going to watch you. Hit play.”

I start it on the tablet, and then my eyes return to her. Her brow lowers as the camera pans the street, not showing much other than a few townhomes and parked cars. Without referencing the screen, I know the moment it comes into view. Remi’s lips part. Her eyes dart to me and then back to her computer screen.

“Foster…”

Only then do I verify the front of the three-story Victorian is fully in frame.

“What is this?” she asks. “I thought they were starting demo right away.”

“Which is why I bought it the next day,” I admit.

I planned on paying for it to be renovated and sold, simply to keep the beautiful thing intact. But as my trajectory tends to do with this woman, it changed direction to aim at her.

The paint on the house is still peeling, but the porch steps have been repaired, a few boards replaced.

“They’ve already fixed the foundation,” I tell her.

Her lips turn up, eyes fucking glowing.

“They stabilized the porch for now, but it wasn’t in too bad of shape. They’ll finish before they repaint the exterior.”

The contractor walks inside with the camera, and Remi gasps. Why, I have no idea, this isn’t the impressive part.

“It’s a work-in-progress.” I state the obvious with the ladders, drop cloths, and plastic sheeting. “Most of the crown molding has remained intact, so there’s not much to do there other than paint. They’re going to open up the floor plan throughout to make it flow or some shit.”

She’s beaming now as the video gives a wide sweep, pausing at the base of the stairs. “And the banisters?—”

“—are going to be a fucking pain, apparently. The guy has to bring in a specialist to restore them so they don’t lose the carvings.”

“I love the carvings,” she whispers.

And I love her. Deep love, scary love, addictive love, love I haven’t even figured out yet.

“They fixed the wall to the parlor.” She looks at me. “They didn’t want to open it up, too?”

I slowly shake my head. “They expanded it by knocking out the wall to the next room.”

She nods, and as she refocuses on the video, all my nerves and doubts vanish. I once told Remi she deserved the world. I plan on giving it to her. Because she’s mine. It’ll take a while, but giving her back a little bit of what she’s lost sounds like a damn good place to start.

“But the room isn’t a parlor anymore, Remi.”

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