Page 177 of Someone Like Me
Josie’s look turns wistful, and she reaches forward and pats Drew on the arm. “Well, give it a little while, but don’t treat it like sacred ground,” she says gently. “Nelson and I will set aside some time to go through her clothes and things and donate what we can to Goodwill—“
“I can help with that,” I offer, “i-if it’s okay, I mean.”
With her other hand she grabs my elbow, so the three of us are now linked. “Of course it’s okay. You being here with Andrew was exactly what she wanted,” Josie tells me, eyes going misty. She looks up at her nephew. “After we get her things sorted, you two should pick out some drapes, put on a new coat of paint, and make the room yours.”
Drew watches her for a moment, and at first, I’m not sure how this is going to go. He may not be ready to think about this. I’m about to reassure him there’s no rush when he speaks up.
“That could work,” he says, his brows lowered in thought.
Josie seems pleased with this, and her face brightens. “By then, it’ll be just about time to decorate for Christmas.”
At this, Drew arches a brow at his aunt, stares at her for a second, and then swings his focus to me. “Apparently, we are hosting Christmas. Comes with the territory. You up for that, Guppy?”
At the same time I nod, Josie squints in confusion.“Guppy?”
I can’t help but giggle, even though my cheeks flame.
Drew might go a little pink too. “Inside joke, Aunt Josie.”
She blinks at him like she’s never seen him before, but she looks pretty darn happy about it. “Whatever you say, Andrew,” she says with a bewildered smile. She stands on tiptoes and presses a kiss to his cheek before coming down on her heels and doing the same to me. “Like I said, we’re getting things cleaned up and hitting the road. We’ll see you on Tuesday.”
Drew nods, but then almost as an afterthought, he grabs his aunt by the arm and kisses her on the cheek. “Thanks, Aunt Josie,” he says, meeting her eyes again. “Thanks for everything.”
Two hours later, the food is put away, the house is empty, and Gemini and Quincy have made the rounds, upstairs and down, sniffing every corner and crevice of the house.
Drew is locking up downstairs, and the dogs are with me, making a final sweep of the bedroom Josie made up for us. I’m standing in the doorway, taking in the space. The room is spotless. I don’t know how Mrs. Vivian did it, but there’s not a speck of dust on the dresser, the night stand, or the window seats on this side of the two dormers that face the front yard.
It’s a great room.
Of course, I’m pretty sure the light blush wall paint and darker pink trim is circa 1985, but I can’t wait to see sunlight through those windows.
Drew’s steps creak on the stairs, and then he’s standing behind me. His arm wraps around my middle, and his hand presses flat against my belly as his lips meet the side of my neck.
I shiver under the thrill of his touch.
“Whose room was this?” I ask, laying my arm over his and leaning back against him.
He doesn’t answer me at once. Instead, his mouth leaves slow kisses up my neck until his lips brush my ear. A sigh escapes me.
“I’m thinking Josie’s,” he whispers, his words a breathy tickle on my skin. “Definitely not Nelson’s, and Lottie never liked pink…”
Somehow, this doesn’t surprise me. Pink seems too cheerful for anyone who could turn their back on Drew. I realize this is not a generous thought, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be unbiased where he’s concerned.
I reach back and let my free hand find its way into his hair. He pauses in his attention to my neck to place a kiss on the inside of my wrist as if in greeting. “It was nice of Josie to make up the room for us. I really like her.”
“Mmm hmm.” The tip of Drew’s tongue traces the shell of my ear, and it’s a good thing I’m leaning back against him because I doubt I can stand by myself. His arms tighten around me. “Don’t want to talk about my family… Don’t want to talk about your family.”
I turn slowly in his arms. “Oh?” I look up at him with pretend innocence. “What do you want to do?”
Drew narrows his gaze, his gray eyes smoldering. Without a word, he walks me backward until we collapse onto the pink-on-pink bedspread.
And both dogs spring onto the bed to investigate, Gemini sniffing me with concern.
“I’m okay,” I say, pushing him away.
“Down,” Drew says, pointing to the floor.
Quincy and Gem both hear the authority in his voice, and they obey at once, springing to the floor.
