His green eyes drink me in. His throat bobs. “If you want to.”
“Of course, I want to,” I whisper, hauling myself against him. I kiss him quickly, pulling back the moment a thought answers my head. Better get it out now, before we actually commit to this idea. “What if I’m too much to handle twenty-four-seven? Right now, you can still send me home when you’re annoyed with me.”
He shakes his head, winding his arms completely around my body. “You’re always just enough, sweetheart. Always the right amount.”
Oh, hereallyloves me.
And hell, I love him too. I love him more.
I take in his face and smile. I’m the luckiest woman in the world. I will get to wake up everyday next to that face. I’ll get to look into those eyes every morning. I’ll get to love him until I’mold and wrinkly, and still flirting with him in my rocking chair on the porch.
I won. In every facet of this life, I won.
I purse my lips in request, and he obliges, slowly leaning down to kiss me as his hands glide up and down my back.
“I get excited about life when I think about it being full of you,” he says against my mouth. He gathers me close, smushing me to his chest, and I shut my eyes. “You changed the entire course of my life.”
“I might have,” I say, my tone teasing. “But you changed mine, too. So we’re even.”
He chuckles, his hand sliding under my hair. “Don’t feel pressured, alright? If you aren’t ready, don’t pretend to be. It won’t hurt my feelings.”
“I’ve been ready since I met you,” I tell him, leaning back to scan his face. He smiles, his thumb brushing my neck. “Of course, I’ll move in with you. I’d rob a bank for you. This is lightwork.”
“Good. Would have been painfully awkward if you said no when I’ve already hired the movers.”
My heart nearly sputters at his confidence in us.
Who would have thought that we’d end up here? Two people, terrified of commitment, now moving in together. We both promised to take it at our own pace. To communicate what we want, how we feel, what we need—which is how I know he wouldn’t ask for this if he didn’t want it.
“And so we enter chapter two of our story, Boston Black.” I grin, pressing my mouth to his jaw. He stifles a breath as I glide my mouth downward, heading toward his ear, to his neck.
“We really gotta thank whoever is writing this story,” he grumbles, angling his head and crushing his lips to mine.
Perhaps we do…
“It looks amazing.”
I smile, turning to each individual owner of this lakehouse as they take in the changes. Penny hired me and gave me free reign. I made her make a vision board anyway, which inspired the hell out of me with one look. This house is completely full of their spirit now. All eight of them.
“You’ve got a gift, girl,” Avery says, glancing at the fireplace mantel. I had it redone with dark gray stone, and it’s gorgeous. No more of the beige and blues. No more stereotypical accents that didn’t fit their vibe. She keeps looking at it like it’s her favourite part and I’m biased, but it’s mine, too.
EJ gasps, hanging half out of the sliding glass door. “Is that a bar?”
I had it covertly installed into the layout of the outside patio. It was definitely constructed with EJ in mind. Penny and Declan wanted a bit of everyone in this place. There’s a coffee bar in the kitchen and a real bar on the deck, things that would make the twins and EJ happy. There’s something that will speak to each of them throughout. I was meticulous about that.
You should see the kitchen. Seth is still standing in the middle of it, gawking at every miniscule detail.
“Oh my god, thecouch,” Tiffany says breathlessly, running her hand over the fabric.
A soft touch finds my lower back. Boston gathers me close, pressing his mouth to my head.
“Do you think they like it?” I whisper.
“Look at their faces. They love it.”
I clasp my hands together, my nerves prickling as they venture through the house. I listen to their compliments,relaxing with each one, and I finally breathe with a bit of relief when Penny pulls me into her arms and thanks me.
It was the first, official job of my firm. She took a chance on me and I’m grateful.
