“I just can’t believe you did this,” Tessa said, still scanning the living room and kitchen she’d walked into.
“Well, something needed to get started, and you weren’t here.” Janey stood in the kitchen, several paces away, one hand on her hip. She wore jeans—something Tessa rarely saw on her sister’s body—and a tank top that covered the barrel they’d been blessed with.
“You could’ve called.” Tessa noted the curtains she’d put up remained, but that was about it.
“The furniture was old and disgusting,” Janey said. “The floors too. All of the appliances were probably leaking antifreeze or something.”
“We haven’t even talked about what we wanted to spend here.” And Tessa couldn’t believe Janey wanted to spend anything to renovate the cottage. Heck, a week ago, she hadn’t even wanted to keep
