Page 106 of One Touch

Home AgainI’m not angry, I just have resting Beakface

Then I checked my notifications.

Holy. Shit.

Brutish Builder started following you.

Whooshing hammered between my ears as my heart thrummed against my ribs. I immediately clicked on the profile.

There, with a slightly annoyed look and cocky half grin, Beckett’s broody gray eyes stared back at me.

I pressed a hand to the sharp pain in my chest.

Duke had checked in on me and let it slip that he had been to Chicago a few times to look in on his friend. He even mentioned that Beckett was seeing a therapist, and I was convinced that little admission was intentional.

After hearing that, I had gone home that night and cried my eyes out. I missed him but was so proud that he was doing the work we had both set out to do. Work on getting ourselves to a place where we could give to each other freely. For Beckett, that meant battling a lot of the demons he carried around inside himself.

It was important to me that he saw the man I saw when I looked at him. Someone strong and kind and worthy. Someone who wasn’t a placeholder, but the prize itself.

I stared down at the profile picture and accompanying bio in disbelief.

Brutish BuilderCleaning up my act one renovation at a time for the woman who stole my heart.

I could practically feel the heat of his touch on the back of my neck and the warmth of his breath, as if he’d whispered in my ear,We are going to get through this.

I looked at the sparse Instagram grid and clicked on the only posted picture—Beckett standing in front of a massive pile of interior construction rubble.

Brutish BuilderStrong buildings are built on strong foundations. Whether it’s a home or a skyscraper, the key to long-lasting structures is a solid base. As a builder, I know the importance of starting with a strong foundation and building up from there. It’s not just about the materials we use, but the craftsmanship and attention to detail that go into every step of the process. Let’s build something that will stand the test of time. #constructionlife #buildingthings #strengthinconstruction #thinkingofher

I stared at his face, my jaw clenched tight, as I willed myself not to cry all over the phone.

* * *

Late January windsrolled over the icy Lake Michigan waters. My hair was a tangled mess as the strands fought the cold air, but I was tucked inside the warmth and safety of my car. Until then I hadn’t had the guts to drive past the Miller beach house, since it had been sold. In a moment of weakness, I decided to torture myself, just a little.

It had been sold and completely gutted, like several others on that particular stretch of beachfront. The large vacation homes all along the private section of beach dune were being overhauled or even torn down, and newer, larger vacation homes to be rented out were being put up in their place.

My emotions were at war. For so long, the house was a sad reminder of how I’d let Declan use me, how naive I had been about the status of our relationship. Slowly Beckett had replaced those sad memories with better ones. Memories of passion and laughter and lazy days on the beach.

Heartache.

I tapped on the Instagram app, my heart doing the same excited thunk-thunk every time I pulled up his profile. Instead of his typical project updates, I stared back at a picture of me, silhouetted by the light streaming in from the expansive beach house windows. I had no idea he’d ever taken the picture.

Brutish BuilderSometimes even a brutish builder can’t help but be taken aback by a beautiful view. She was looking at the lake, but I was always looking at her.

The right windows can make all the difference, not just in terms of aesthetics but in bringing in natural light and allowing us to enjoy the beauty of the outdoors from the comfort of our homes. What do you think @HomeAgain—do you prefer an open view or the classic look of a paneled window?

My breath hitched. His posts often asked the opinions of his growing following but had never before tagged me or outright called me out.

Brutish BuilderShe was looking at the lake, but I was always looking at her.

A thrill of excitement and affection sparked in my belly as I typed out my reply:

Home Again@BrutishBuilder, for a lakefront house? An open view. No question.

* * *

“Have you talked to him?”I sat across from Annie at the Sugar Bowl as we enjoyed a quiet Saturday morning together.

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