Page 130 of Bound To Be Mine

“What? More?”

“Trust me. Close your eyes.”

I led her down the hall to the guest room I’d been secretly renovating for the past month. I’d managed to keep it hidden during her visits by claiming it was being used for storage and keeping the door locked.

“Okay,” I said, positioning her in front of the door. “Open them.”

She opened her eyes as I opened the door.

The room had been completely transformed into a walk-in closet and dressing room. Custom shelving lined the walls, ready for her clothes and shoes. There was a beautiful island in the center with drawers for jewelry and accessories. And in the corner, positioned perfectly to catch the natural light from the window, was a makeup vanity with professional lighting and a comfortable chair.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, walking slowly into the room. “Briggs, when did you do this?”

“I’ve been working on it for the past month. Contractors came while you were in LA. I wanted you to have your own space. Somewhere that was completely yours.” I leaned against the doorframe, watching her take it all in. “I know my closet is big, but I didn’t want you to feel like you were just squeezing into my space. This is yours.”

She ran her hand along the vanity, then turned to look at the empty shelves that would soon hold her wardrobe. “This is incredible.”

“The lighting is adjustable. Sebastian told me different lighting for different looks.”

She walked back to me with tears streaming down her face.

“Hey,” I said, immediately concerned. “Are these good tears or bad tears?”

“Good tears, you idiot.” She threw her arms around my neck. “This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

I held her close, relief flooding through me. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it. I love you.” She pulled back to look at me. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one.” I wiped a tear from her cheek with my thumb. “You gave up everything to be here.”

“I didn’t give up anything that mattered.” She kissed me softly. “Everything that matters is right here.”

We stood there for a moment, just holding each other in her new closet. Then she pulled back with a laugh.

“Okay, we should probably start unpacking. These boxes aren’t going to unpack themselves.”

I grimaced. “Wait, what? You want me to help you unpack?”

She slapped at my chest. “Stop it.”

She spent the rest of the day unpacking boxes and organizing her new closet. Every time she walked into that room, her face lit up in a way that made everything worth it. I’d thought of everything I could, tried to anticipate every detail to show her just how grateful I was she had packed up and moved.

For me. For us. I wanted her to feel at home.

By evening, her clothes were hung, her shoes were lined up on their designated shelves, her makeup arranged on the vanity like a mini beauty counter. She stood back and admired it all. I stood in the doorway watching her, two glasses of wine in my hands.

“Looks good,” I said.

“It looks perfect.” She turned and accepted the glass I offered. “Thank you again. For all of this.”

“You’ve thanked me enough.”

“I can’t help it. This is so incredible. Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me.”

I pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Get used to it. I plan on spoiling you for the rest of our lives.”

“I can live with that.”