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“What? No, I don’t want to look at apartments.” I stand from the couch to face him. “I don’t know that I’m even planning to move out from Ryan’s. I just needed a few days.”
“It’s been a few days.”
Jolting back, I eye him. “Do you have a girl coming over? Are you just trying to get me out of the house? Is that what this is about? I can go hide in the guest room if you’d like.”
He scoffs. “I wish I had a girl coming over. Now go take a shower and put on something that isn’t that three-day old sweatshirt with spaghetti sauce on it.” He cringes. “You need to look good for… my broker.”
Taking slow steps towards the guest room, I keep my narrowed eyes on him over my shoulder. “You’re being so weird right now.”
“I love this part of town,” Rio’s broker, Cindy, says as she continues to drive us thirty minutes outside of the city. “Real quiet. Good place to raise kids. Great school district.”
“I’m only looking for myself.”
Actually, I’m not looking at all.
“This part of town has a wonderful safety score. Walkable. Quaint grocery stores and a lot of land. Plenty of hiking spots. Give it a couple of months and this whole town will be covered in greenery and flowers. It’s beautiful.”
“That does sound nice.”
If I were looking.
She continues to drive us around and she was right. It does seem like a quiet town, thirty minutes away from the hustle and bustle of downtown Chicago. Ryan would like it here. He’d probably be able to go to the grocery store on his own without being bombarded or take a long walk outside without the media on his ass.
“Here we are.”
She pulls into the long driveway of a stunning house. White exterior with black trim. Elm trees line the driveway and their color is beginning to come back after a harsh winter. A cozy porch wraps around the entire house where a swing hangs by the front door. There isn’t another home in viewing distance, and I can tell, just from the front, that the property in the back is vast and seemingly endless.
“I think this is the wrong address,” I tell her. “It’s only me. I’m not looking for anything this big and even if I were, I couldn’t afford it.” An awkward laugh bubbles out of me and I keep my seat belt in place, ready for her to drive off to the correct location.
“Well, let’s go in and take a look, shall we? Stunning home. Would hate to just drive away.”
Cindy is already out of the car before I have another moment to protest. Unfastening the seat belt, I cautiously follow her up the large set of stairs leading to the front porch.
The area surrounding the house is silent minus the distant chirp of birds. It’s a complete and utter change from the apartment on the twenty-second floor in downtown Chicago. I can’t help but wonder how many stars you’d be able to see out here without the glaring lights of the city.
The fresh garden beds lining the staircase with small buds sit ready for dirt and rain to create something beautiful.
Cindy doesn’t use a key to unlock the double doors that lead into the house. She simply turns the knob and opens them. Staying on the front porch, she ushers me in.
The waft of fresh coffee overwhelms me along with that distinctly sweet smell of French toast.
A large double staircase frames the foyer. There are rooms to both my left and right. The house seems mid-renovation, but one is definitely a family room and the other is for dining.
But straight ahead, the kitchen stove crackles, and I can see puffs of steam even from here.
Cindy closes the door, and when I look back, she’s nowhere to be found. She left me inside alone.
I follow my nose to the giant kitchen in the back of the house. White cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and an island large enough for a family of six to eat breakfast at.
But the most beautiful part of the house is the man with his back to me, working at the stove. Backwards hat, hoodie, and joggers. He seems as relaxed and comfortable as he does at home, and I couldn’t be more thankful to Rio that he made me get off my ass and brush my hair.
And it’s quickly becoming evident that there were no apartments to look at with his broker. He just needed to get me out here.
“Ryan?” I look around. “What’s going on?”
Turning to face me, that stunning smile spreads, showcasing his puckered dimples. “Take a seat.” He motions to the kitchen island.
In a daze, I pull out a stool and sit, my eyes wandering to the colorful bouquet in the center of the island.
