Page 131 of Made for Mayhem

Stevie swept in with an armload of shopping bags. “You said decor, and I said de-MORE! Throw pillows, linens, dishes, and three different duvet vibes because we need choices.”

Emmy stared. “Stevie. Why are there fourteen pillows?”

“Fifteen,” Stevie corrected. “Pillows make me happy, and this house needs happy.”

Mason wandered in holding a paintbrush like it might bite him. “Shan, you sure I can’t help Tate with the wallpaper? Seems like it might be a two-person⁠—”

“Nope,” Tate and Shannon said in unison.

Shannon pointed her roller at the baseboards. “Tape it off for your brother, or I’ll make you clean grout with a toothbrush instead.”

Mason sighed, then sat on the floor with a roll of blue tape.

I stood near the front door, overseeing everything that was happening all at once, and keeping an eye on the kids outside. Miles and Molly were already racing toward the barn with Stevie’s kids, but Junie lingered on the porch, not quite focused on anything.

I crouched beside her, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Hey, bug. You okay?”

She twisted her fingers together. “Mom wanted everything to be floral, like our names. All the upstairs rooms are supposed to be like a hotel so she could rent them and we’d never have to move again.” Her chin wobbled. “But I… Can I stay outside?”

I pulled her into my chest, hating her sadness just as much as Daisy’s. “Of course you can stay outside. You don’t have to do anything that hurts today. And hey—thank you for telling me about the florals. We’ll make it sunshine, exactly like she wanted.”

She nodded, eyes glassy, then ran after the others.

Molly looked up as Junie joined them, eyes on me. Luckily, she seemed to understand the hard set of my jaw and scooped up Junie into a piggy back ride, insisting they go check on Uno.

Once I heard her peal of laughter, I went back inside.

Everything was a flurry of motion and color, the whole house transforming before my eyes.

I handed Luke another fixture, smiled when Beckett painted a coral stripe down Jace’s back “by accident,” even helped Shannon carry new headboards upstairs.

But every stroke of paint on the walls, every floral pillow fluffed, every new light that flicked on and made the place glow warmer—every single thing sharpened the knife in my gut.

This house was becoming perfect.

Exactly what Violet dreamed.

Exactly the kind of place that would sell in a heartbeat for stupid money.

Enough for Daisy to pack Junie into whatever car she wanted, point it toward Chicago or Portland or any city big enough to swallow the memories, and never have to look back.

Enough for her to outrun the grief.

Enough for her to outrun me.

Beckett bumped my shoulder as we unloaded a new porch swing from his truck. “You’re brooding so loud I can hear it over the chatter, buddy.”

I shook my head. “Just thinking about how we’re going to anchor this into the ceiling.”

“Bullshit.” He set his end down and wiped sweat off his forehead. “Talk to me.”

I glanced around at the people around me, each one essential to my life in a way I hadn’t quite named before, but none moreso than the little girl climbing a tree in the yard and the woman asleep in my bed.

I swallowed, but my voice still sounded like gravel as I said, “She could list this place tomorrow. One signature and they’re gone.”

Beckett put his hands on his hips and let out a deep sigh. “I’ve thought of that too.”

I stared through the open front door at the fresh white trim, the coral walls, the wildflower curtains Stevie was hanging. It was beautiful, and one-of-a-kind, just like Daisy.