The Woman from the Past (Grassi Framily)

Sure, it was a different kind, but love was love. When you felt it, you knew it.

And even though it was new to me in a relationship way, there didn’t seem to be any reason to try to fight against it.

Nino was right.

When you found the right woman, you put a ring on her finger and came home to her every night.

It was a little early for rings.

But I was looking forward to coming home to her at night.

Only a few hours later, we were parked outside of my house, and I was watching Cammie for her reaction.

I’d never worried what someone thought of my house before, but I was worried about what she thought.

Was it too modern for her taste? Did she like ornate Victorians with their wrap-around porches, gabled roofs, turrets, and intricately carved wood features?

“I have a question,” she said after the longest pause ever.

“Yeah?”

“You’re a… sharp shooter, right?”

“For lack of a better term, sure,” I agreed.

“This doesn’t freak you out?” she asked, waving at the house.

“What doesn’t freak me out?”

“All the windows. People could see right in, right?”

“No. The glass is mirrored. During the day, all you can see is a reflection of what is going on outside. At night, the blinds are programmed to come down just before sunset. They’re between the glass panes.”

“Oh,” she said, nodding. “Well, in that case, I love it,” she said, smiling over at me. “It must be nice to have those views all the time.

“You don’t have to say that just because it’s mine,” I assured her.

“I wouldn’t. I mean, I totally would. Because who would be that much of an asshole? But, no, I really like it. It really suits you.”

That had been why I picked it.

It was a two-story structure made out of a lot of glass with black metal beams and gray stones all in sharp, crisp lines. Nothing curved, nothing soft about it.

There were balconies off the back of the house that overlooked the swimming pool and the underused backyard that had been a priority because I always knew that I would someday want kids, and they would need a place to play.

“Want to see the inside?” I asked, cutting off the engine.

“Only if you give me a tour like I am going to buy the place,” she qualified.

Free of Colin, she was so much calmer, more playful, not so fucking shrunken and scared.

And if I had to give her a tour like a real estate agent to get another one of those smiles out of her, I was going to do it.

“This is a five-bedroom, four bath… what?” I asked as I led her up the driveway and she made a face at me.

“Nothing. It’s just… have you ever looked at home listings? Especially for like super expensive houses? It’s always like it’s a five-bedroom, twelve bath house. And I could never understand why you would ever need so many more baths than bedrooms. This is much more reasonable.”

“I’m glad you think so,” I said, leading her up to the door.