“It’s cute. I love the picket fence.”
“When I bought the place, the fence was mostly rotted away and falling down, and I planned on ripping it all out, but Mom convinced me to keep it. I haven’t decided if it’s worth the effort of having it, since I gotta paint it every summer.”
“Well, I think it’s perfect,” I say as he opens the front door. The moment I step inside, I see why he said it’s a work in progress. The wood floors need to be refinished and the walls need paint, but I can see it’s got character, and when it’s done, it will be gorgeous. “Where’s Bane?”
“My partner’s kids kidnapped him. I’ll get him back in a few days. I just have to wait until he chews up something of theirs and they stop thinking he’s cute.”
I laugh. “You might be waiting awhile, then.”
“Maybe,” he agrees. Then he asks, “Do you want a tour of my house?”
“Yes.”
“Good thing I picked up earlier.” He grins and takes my hand. He leads me a little ways down the hall to an open door, and when he flips on the light, I see a beautiful bedroom with beige walls and plush carpeting. There’s a dark wooden king-size bed in the center of the room, matching nightstands on either side, and a dresser against the wall near the door. I step into the room as he places my bag on the end of the bed, and I notice that the photo of a lake surrounded by deep-green trees above the bed matches the comforter and pillows perfectly.
“I’ve only finished this room and the master bath,” he tells me, taking my purse and tossing it on the bed before grabbing my hand and leading me across the room to a closed door. When he opens it, I see it’s nothing like the overly modern design I’m used to. I also see he’s taken time picking out each item carefully. The dark-brown wood-looking tile on the floor continues up the walls, making it feel cave-like, and the glass-enclosed shower with a stone floor is big enough for four people. Two sinks sit on a single wall-mounted wooden stand, and the mirrors above each one glow around the edges. Cool antique-looking faucets match the light fixtures on either side of the mirrors.
“Did you do this yourself?”
“My dad, my brother, and I did all the tile work. I paid someone to finish out the shower and hang all the fixtures.”
“It feels like a cave.” I step into the room and run my hand along the edge of one of the sinks.
“That’s what I was going for. I wanted it to feel like the outdoors indoors.”
“You pulled it off.” I walk toward him when he holds out his hand.
He smiles, shuts off the light, and leads me back into the hall. He opens another door to a room that’s stuffed full with cans of paint, ladders, and everything else needed to fix up a house. “This will at some point be another bedroom.” He closes the door, then leads me to another room, this one with a beat-up desk and an older computer and chair along with a few paper clippings framed on the wall. “My office.” He shuts the door, then taps another one but doesn’t open it. “Guest bath.” He continues walking and stops at an open doorway, through which there’s a large living room with a fireplace, an old couch with a missing cushion, and a TV on what looks like a side table.
“I’m starting in here next,” he says as he leads me into a kitchen that’s in major need of repair. The appliances are old, and the cabinets and counters are peeling. “Through that arch”—he points at the opening on one side of the room—“is the dining room, but I plan on tearing down the wall and making this all one space with an island and a breakfast nook.”
“I love it,” I reply, hoping I don’t sound like I’m designing the space in my head, even though that is totally what I’m doing. “Does that door lead to the backyard?” I ask, motioning to the door at the end of the counter.
“Yeah.” He opens it, and I look out at the backyard, which is surprisingly large and is fully enclosed with a tall wooden fence.
“Nice.” I look up at him and gasp when his mouth suddenly lands on mine and his fingers slide into my hair. I latch onto his shirt with both hands and tip my head to the side as he deepens the kiss. His hand curves around my back, and I arch into him, my breasts pressing against his chest. He growls against my tongue, sending a tingle down my spine. When his mouth leaves mine, I’m breathless and dazed. My eyes flutter open to meet his, and I see the same desire I feel reflected back at me. “Is that normal?”