Page 111 of One Touch

I bent at the knees to lift her from the swing and toss her over my shoulder. Kate yelped in surprise as I smacked her ass and gave it a playful squeeze while I walked us inside. “You’ve got no idea, Princess.”

Her laughter floated on the coastal air and filled my soul.

We never should have worked.

I was her ex-boyfriend’s jaded older brother.

She was my best friend’s little sister.

But all along she was the only woman who could force me to face my own demons and have the strength to choose her own happiness along with it. Kate was never the demure pushover I thought she was. She was a powerhouse and the greatest woman to ever walk into my life.

I was determined to show her what it meant to be possessed by a man completely consumed by her, right there in the home we’d build together.

EPILOGUE: KATE

I looked around the beautiful coastal Victorian house, and a sense of pride washed over me. It was hard to believe that just a few months ago, this place had been run-down and nearly forgotten. But with our passion for historic preservation and our skills as contractors, Beckett and I had managed to bring this beautiful home back to life.

The Queen Anne house had been built in the late eighteen hundreds and had fallen into disrepair over the years. But with careful planning and attention to detail, we had managed to restore it to its former glory, documenting every step forHome Again. We had replaced the crumbling foundation, rebuilt the porch, and repaired the ornate woodwork that adorned the exterior of the house.

She was the gorgeous Painted Lady she was meant to be.

Inside we had gutted the entire house and started from scratch. We had worked tirelessly to restore the original hardwood floors, patching and sanding them until they shone like new. We had also restored the original crown molding and baseboards, making sure to match the original profiles as closely as possible.

The home had new plumbing and electrical systems, and Beckett had even managed to salvage the original fireplace, which had been hidden behind a layer of plaster for years. We had also worked hard to source antique fixtures and hardware, giving the house an authentic feel. What we couldn’t salvage, Sly created, and it was spectacular.

As we stood in front of the house, admiring our handiwork, I felt a sense of satisfaction wash over me. This was what we were meant to do. To take old, forgotten houses along coastal Michigan and turn them into something beautiful again.

Beckett put his arm around my shoulder, drawing me close to him. “This is our best work yet, Princess. I can’t believe how amazing she looks.”

I leaned into him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. “I know it.” I glanced at my watch. “But we better get going. Tootie and the gang will be waiting for us.”

With a stern nod, the grumpy love of my life started packing up his tools. A cleaning crew would be in early tomorrow morning before I staged the last of the furniture and took the final photographs.

“Hey, grab the pad of paper from my toolbox, will you? I want to leave a note that the paint in the back room is still tacky.”

I smiled and moved toward the toolbox Beckett brought with him to every job. After I flipped open the top, I stared.

A small ring box sat on top of his tools.

I was taken aback, my heart skipping a beat. I turned to look at Beckett, who was behind me, down on one knee, a smile on his face.

“I have something to ask you, Katie-girl.”

The world shifted beneath my feet as my mind raced to catch up to what was happening.

“I want to dance with you in every kitchen we design together. After any long day to come, I want to soak with you in the tub and let our troubles melt away. You calm me. Soothe me in a way I never knew I needed. Will you be my wife, Princess?”

I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth to keep from crying. “Yes,” I managed on a sob as I threw myself at him.

Nearly tackling him, I straddled his lap and rained kisses over his face as his arms wound around my back.

“You are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars.”

I traced my fingertips over his features. “Did you write that?”

He shook his head. “E. E. Cummings, but it couldn’t be more true. I am so hopelessly in love with you.”

Choking back a fresh round of sobs, I leaned in for another kiss.

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