Page 74 of From Grumpy to Forever
Strength.
Change.
I traced my fingers over and over the carving until finally, I knew what to do.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Reid
Maybe she wasn’t coming.
Maybe I’d gotten it wrong.
It was possible I’d misread the entire situation and she was angrier than I thought. Or worse, she didn’t feel the same way I did.
But that wasn’t it. It couldn’t be.
I knew in my heart she’d come. And that counted for something.
I’d started work on the swing weeks earlier but it wasn’t until I was halfway through construction when I got the idea for the carving. It was right after the night when she’d shown me the trees her grandparents had planted. It also happened to be when I first realized that even though I didn’t know yet what they were, I had real feelings for the bubbly blonde who’d burst into my life and asked me to marry her.
Thankfully, Grayson had agreed to help me with a middle-of-the-night mission to hang it. We’d managed not to wake any neighbors or have the cops called on us with our fervent whispers and more than one curse word hurled at each other in the dark.
But that wasn’t the hard part.
The hard part was waiting.
I hadn’t gotten more than five minutes of sleep all night. I’d tossed and turned, consumed by questions and second-guessing. Had it been enough? Would she understand the swing was more than a peace offering? Would she understand how I felt?
And if she did, would she feel the same?
I’d cleaned every inch of my shop, stacked and organized every piece of wood at least twice, and even gone through the scrap box to find any salvageable piece. She still hadn’t called.
It had been hours. Surely she would have seen the swing by now. She would know it was me…she would… “Screw it.”
There was no way I was waiting another minute for her to come to me. I needed to go find her. I grabbed my truck keys and was almost out the door when it flew open.
“Uncle Reid!”
My niece stood in the doorway, her face flushed, her hair slipping from her ponytail, and her eyes wild.
“Quinn? What’s wrong?” Everything else forgotten, I rushed to her, grabbed her by the forearms, and began to assess her for damage. “Are you okay? Where does it?—”
“I’m fine.” She shook me off. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? Everyone’s been calling you.”
“My…” I turned and patted the back pockets of my jeans. “I don’t have…shit. I must have lost it at the?—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Quinn grabbed my hand. “You have to come with me. Hurry.”
“What? Where?” I let her lead me from the shop, pausing only long enough to slip the padlock into place. “What’s going on, Quinn?”
“It’s Avery.” She tugged the passenger door of the truck open and stood on the running board, looking over the truck at me. “Judge Baker called an emergency meeting,” she said. “He’s making a ruling on the will.”
“What?” I was frozen in place. “Now?”
“Yes.” She slapped her hand on the roof of the truck. “Now! You need to hurry, Uncle Reid. Let’s go!”
I shook my head and jumped into my truck, jamming the keys into the ignition. “Fuck.” The word slipped out before I realized my audience. “Shit,” I said. “Sorry. Dammit.” I shook my head. “Don’t tell your dad I said any of that.”
