Page 133 of Delicate Escape

Anson clapped me on the shoulder. “I’ll always have your back.”

A honk sounded from the front of the house, making both Anson and me look in that direction.

Anson turned back to me. “Expecting someone?”

I shook my head.

We both braced. There’d been too much bad shit these past few months. It wasn’t like an assassin was going to honk before they shot us dead, but we were prepared for anything.

As we headed outside, I caught sight of the approaching flatbed truck. Not an assassin, after all. My windows.

“Damn, those look pretty,” Anson muttered.

“I was right to go with the black frames.”

He nodded. “I wasn’t sure if that would look too modern, but it’s going to be perfect.”

“Especially with the worn gray tones we’re going with for theexterior,” I agreed. A familiar twitchiness spread through me, but the good kind. The kind that meant I couldn’t wait to dive into work.

The truck pulled to a stop, the engine shutting off. The driver’s door opened, and Mara slid out, a smile across her face. “Delivery, boys.”

I hated the way my gut soured at her arrival. Mara hadn’t done a damn thing wrong. I just didn’t have the energy to deal with tiptoeing around feelings this afternoon.

“Thanks,” I said, forcing a smile out of politeness.

She crossed to me, blond hair pulled up into a ponytail of loose waves. She handed me a clipboard. “They came in this morning. Hal wasn’t going to deliver for another three days, so I offered to bring them out. The only payment I require is a tour. This place is awesome.”

I could feel Anson’s eyes on me, part assessment, part warning. I took the clipboard and quickly scrawled my name. “We’re pretty slammed today. Maybe when we’re farther along.”

Mara’s smile stayed in place as she gave me a playful smack with the board. “Aw, come on. Five minutes. I just want to see her guts and how you opened her up.”

Hell.

“Sure,” I gritted out. “A, why don’t you come with us?” I didn’t want to be rude, but I didn’t want to give Mara the wrong idea either.

Anson coughed in an attempt to hide his laugh at my discomfort. “Sure thing, boss.”

I flipped him off behind Mara’s back as she headed into the house.

“This is incredible,” she called from inside.

I kept the tour as brief as possible, not even venturing to the second story. Anson moved through the house with us but kept his distance. As we reached the entryway, Mara grinned at me. “You are going to make a mint when you sell this place. And it’s going to make some family ridiculously happy.”

Her words were kind, but they still grated. I didn’t care about making millions. I wanted to do good work. And usually, I loved the idea of a family making a home in a space I’d created, but this wasdifferent somehow. This place felt like mine more than any other. And maybe that was because Thea had been a part of it, too.

From the walls she’d helped me knock down to listening to me incessantly talk about my plans and ideas, she was woven into the fibers of the farmhouse. And I couldn’t imagine giving that up.

“Thanks,” I muttered, my tone a bit crisper.

Mara’s brows drew together in confusion, and I didn’t blame her.

At the sound of tires crunching gravel, we all moved outside. At the sight of Thea’s ancient sedan, a grin spread across my face. But it quickly died when I remembered who was here.Shit.

Anson clapped me on the back. “Good luck with this one.”

I would’ve flipped him off again, but we were in plain view of everyone.

Thea pulled into a makeshift spot in the front of the house and climbed out, her gaze sweeping over her surroundings.