Page 51 of Lake Shore Splendor

“Come on, man. You can’t just lie there all day while we work.”

“Bet.”

Bennett blew out a long breath. “Is this how it’s going to be?”

“Probably. Unless you leave me alone.”

Was this a battle worth fighting? Bennett listened to the easy conversation happening in the room across the hall. Hunter had asked Gemma about her school in Chicago, and Gemma was prattling on about cheerleading and swim club—things that Bennett couldn’t promise her when she started attending Elk County Public School.

That now-familiar weight pressed down in his chest.God, I don’t think I can do this.

He focused on Nathan again. Let him be. More than likely he’d be more of a pain in the butt rather than a help anyway.

“Enjoy your disco ball, then.” Bennett turned and left the room.

“You know I will.”

The response was likely intended to grate on Bennett—and held the strong possibility for success. But Bennett exhaled slowly, clenched and unclenched his fists, and chose to let it go.

Crossing the hall, Bennett found Hazel stirring a can of barely green paint called something Wisdom—which reminded Bennett to pray for exactly that. As he did so silently, he joined Hunter and Gemma at their washing-the-wall job, taking up a rag from a bucket of warm water as he went.

“Can I get a new duvet?” Gemma aimed her eager, winning expression at Bennett.

Yet again he was reminded of how often he’d used charm to get his way. Man, he was going to have to figure out how to curb this habit in Gemma. No one with such a sweet face should wield that much manipulation.

“What’s aduvet?” Hazel asked.

“It’s like a bedspread case.” Gemma folded her hands together, squishing her cleaning rag in between her palms. “Please, Benji?”

“Bennett.”

Gemma glanced at Hazel—likely because the girl had heard the woman use Bennett’s forbidden nickname.

“And no, I don’t think so. The moving truck should get here in a day or two, and we’ll use what you had in Chicago.”

“But my old room was pink.”

Bennett glanced at the bright pink on the walls. “Then maybe we’re wasting our time.”

“Not this color of pink.” Gemma wrinkled her nose. “Soft pink. Pretty pink.”

“What color is your bedding?”

A dusting ofsoft pinkspread over her freckled face. “Gray.”

“I’m fairly confident gray will work with Wise Owl green.”

“Gentle Wisdom.”

Bennett shrugged. “Exactly.”

Gemma produced that cute pouty lip along with a pair of pleading puppy eyes. Dang, but the kid was good at being adorable. Did it matter if he let her pick something new? It was all coming from Dad’s account anyway . . .

Bennett glanced at Hazel, who watched him with crossed arms and an amused smirk.Putty. He steeled against Gemma’s charm—not that he minded Hazel knowing he was a softy. That was way better than her original evaluation of him as a spoiled, self-centered city boy who couldn’t survive the mountains. Being a softy had earned him the privilege of knowing the softer side of Hazel Wallace, and that was a rare prize indeed.

But boundaries were needed. He met Gemma’s pleading look again and shook his head.

Gemma’s shoulders sagged, and she snapped her fingers. But with the next breath, she was back to sunshine. “Oh, okay. Gray will work . . . for now.” She looked up to Hunter and winked.

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