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To the left is a living room and to the right is the dining room. A staircase sits straight ahead but doesn’t take up the full space. You can walk up a few steps to a landing where the stairs continue up right or walk past the staircase to get deeper into the house, where I remember from the online brochure is a powder room, laundry room, and the kitchen, which opens up into the massive family room and a covered part of the back porch.
The formal living and dining rooms both have fires burning in their fireplaces per my instructions. Furnishings are okay. It all looks new. The former owner furnished the place but was barely here.
We walk past the stairs, down the hall and stop in the kitchen that looks out to the sundrenched family room extension, a rounded space with soaring ceilings overlooking the back yard through the two-story back wall of mostly windows and fireplace. Past that would be lush greenery if not for the fact that we’re at the tail end of autumn and winter is imminent. There should also be a fire roaring in the fireplaces upstairs per the directions I left. I wanted lit fires in all of the fireplaces for us as well as to make the place smell like lemons, which it does. Chloe used lemon cleaner, lemon dish soap, even lemon hand soap when I watched her in that rowhouse on camera, so I want it to feel like home.
“Whoever designed this certainly loved fireplaces,” I remark.
“That’s one of the reasons I loved it,” she says hoarsely, looking emotional.
I set her on the counter beside a waiting bucket of chilled champagne and a dozen red roses in a crystal vase.
“Please, God, not another mimosa,” she mumbles, staring at the counter with horror.
I laugh and she half smiles, but it slips as soon as our eyes connect. I pass her the card from the rose bouquet.
Welcome home, baby.
Love, Derek.
She sets it down, nibbling on her bottom lip.
The kitchen is recently upgraded with cream cabinetry, white and cream marble counters, and beige and cream marbled flooring. There are pops of color with the flowers, with a few red countertop appliances, and gold and brass accented wall décor like a clock, weather station, and memo board meant for busy families. The kitchen island faces the family room.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, following her eyes which seem to be focused on the windows. “I see why you loved it so much.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“How about we tour the upstairs?” I ask, my voice dropping as I drop a soft kiss on her neck.
She shivers.
Fuck, I want this. I want to jump ahead to where she’s in this with me. She’s afraid I’ll get bored when the game is over? Not a chance. I’m so fucking ready to have her in love with me. To see her look at me with love, with lust, with something other than fear, frustration, and confusion. She’s worth the wait. The effort. I don’t believe for a minute that I’ll lose interest. I want this woman running for me when she sees me, dying to connect with me. I want it all with her.
I lift her up and move toward the staircase on the other side of the kitchen.
“You don’t have to carry me up there,” she mumbles.
“Yes I do, maybe I’ll never let your feet touch the ground again,” I warn with a grin. “Carry you from place to place?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Tie you to the bed when I can’t carry you around,” I add.
She chews her cheek and drops her gaze.
I laugh darkly.
The upstairs has four bedrooms and three bathrooms along with a home office that’s lined with bookshelves and yet another fireplace.
I see her eyes light up at the bookshelves, which are empty but for one book. The book I purchased for her.
She eyeballs the book and then looks at the floor again.
Okay, no comment on that then.
“What do you think of the color in here?” I ask once we’re in the master bathroom. I’ve set her on one of the two vanities. I look around, face likely betraying how I feel about the shade of green these walls are painted.
“It’s hideous,” she announces.
