Stepping into his embrace, I feel his arms wrap around me and his chin drop to the top of my head. Closing my eyes, I wonder how it’s possible to feel what I’m feeling right now. I barely know this man, but I feel more connected to him than my college boyfriend, who I dated for three years.
“Thank you for coming to me,” he says quietly, and tears burn the back of my throat as my arms tighten around his waist. I’m still scared to death, but there is now hope mixed in with the fear of what could happen.
“Thank you for being persistent,” I say, meaning that, and his arms tighten before he loosens his hold slightly.
“Are you hungry?”
“A little.”
“I cooked,” he tells me, and I tip my head back to look up at him.
“You cooked?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. There’s a lot about me that you don’t know yet.”
“Yeah, like the fact you live in a fairy tale cottage,” I state, and his brows draw together.
“What?”
“Your house, it looks like a fairy tale cottage right out of a book.”
Turning us to the side, he looks at the house. Even though it’s dark, the bright colors around the windows are in stark contrast to the white of the stucco. It’s all accentuated by the outside lights that are coming down off the edge of the roof and others that are shooting at it from the garden.
“The couple who built it was from London. They wanted to have a little bit of home in the US. When they moved home after their first child was born, they let it sit with plans to come back and visit, only that never happened. Eventually, they realized they would never come back, so they put it on the market.”
“That’s so sad.”
“Sad for them. It worked out for me. Come on.” He takes my hand and begins leading me toward a stone walkway to a heavy-looking wood door that is curved at the top. Pushing the door open, we step right into a small living room with gold and white wallpaper on the walls that has began peeling away. There are plastic drapes all over the floor and a ladder in the middle of the room under one of the many large wooden beams that run across the ceiling.
“I’m in the middle of re-staining all the beams,” he explains, pulling me past the living room and down a hall.
Reaching the kitchen, I blink. It’s even more beautiful than I imagined it would be when he showed me the things he picked out. The cream cupboards and countertops go perfectly with the light gray walls. The large stove off to the side looks amazing with the huge decorative vent above it that blends in with the cupboards. All the appliances look awesome in the space, and they tie in perfectly with a huge metal-top table that is off to the side with coordinating chairs placed around it.
Taking a step farther into the room, I see a second living room with a large stone fireplace as the centerpiece with a TV mounted above, and one large sectional in front of it that is a dark gray suede material. Fur pillows of different shades are stacked up in the corners, and a few fur throws are tossed over the back. The whole space looks like something out of a high-end magazine ad for housewares. Spinning to face Sage, I shake my head.
“This is…” I look around again, trying to come up with a word that means more than beautiful. “This is spectacular! This could be in a catalog.”
“My mom and aunts will be happy to hear that.” He smiles.
“They did all of this?”
“Yeah, they love shopping, so I gave them my card and a budget and told them to let loose as long as they didn’t show up with anything pink.”
“No, this is… this is you.”
“If you think this is nice, you should see the view from my bed,” he says, and I feel my face go soft.
“You put in a skylight?”
“Yeah.” He holds out his hand, and I place mine in it and let him lead me down a short hall that is just off the kitchen. Opening the door to the room, I walk in ahead of him and go to the bed. Climbing in without asking if it’s okay, I lie on my back and look up at the night sky that seems to be a hundred times brighter than it does from the skylight over my bed.
“I knew this place would be beautiful when you were finished with it,” I say quietly. Then I turn my head when the bed moves and watch Sage crawl up next to me to lie down on his back, just far enough away that we’re not touching.
“I still have a lot to do, but it’s coming along.”