Page 148 of First in Line

“I kept everything. I had it all moved here, and when I found a decorator to fill the place, I told them to make it work with what I already had.”

“They did a great job. Your house is beautiful, Jax.”

“Ourhouse.”

She gives me a look over her shoulder but doesn’t answer, continuing her exploration. “You have a lot of plants,” she notes when we’re in the sunroom.

“Yes.”

“And they’re all alive.”

“Because you’re not around to constantly over-water them.”

The jab earns me a slight push against my stomach and a scowl she clearly doesn’t mean. “I’m surprised they’re not all dead of thirst. I doubt you’re here enough to water them.”

“A couple from the village we passed comes once a week. She does the indoor plants, cleans them up, waters them, and he handles the garden.”

“Ah, so your plants are alive because you’ve hired professionals. That’s cheating. How many people work here?”

“There’s a groundskeeper who lives with his wife in a small house a little farther down the hill. With an estate this size, it’s necessary. And two maids, three times a week.”

“That’s it?”

“I don’t like being served all the time, just like you. When I’m here, I enjoy being alone. It’s the only place where I can be on my own.”

“Should I leave?” she impishly wonders.

I grab her waist and hold her in front of me. “No. I want to be on my own with you the whole week.”

When I lower to kiss her, she evades me to continue her exploration. She finds the door that leads to the paved patio, and beyond that, seemingly overflowing into the hills far away, the pool.

“An infinity pool,” she notes with a grin. “Was it already here?”

“No, I had the old one removed and this one built instead.”

“It looks great. It merges into the landscape.”

“Yes, it’s the best kind of pool.”

She returns into the house, and I keep following her. She finds my home gym next, the only room that has air conditioning. It gets very hot in the summer here, and having to train as much as I do is painful enough as it is.

The next room of importance she stumbles into is the main bedroom—ours. Of course, she notices the brick-colored armchair set by a window, its vintage design hard to forget. Curious, she enters the half-empty dressing room, and then the bathroom.

“Is everything to your liking?” I ask when she appears again.

“It’s all beyond gorgeous, Jax. I don’t know how you can travel so much. I’d want to stay home all the time.”

“Yes, it’s a beautiful house. But it’s very… empty. I’d definitely come home more often if I had someone waiting for me.”

She skeptically pouts, not fooled by my manipulative attempt. Remembering she still has more to explore, she passes by me and moves on to the next room. She’s at the door before I realize this might not be a great idea. Not yet.

“Evie, wait,” I say.

Understanding my urgency, she looks at the door, then at me. “Is this your torture chamber? Have you turned to BDSM during our years apart?”

“No, it’s… it’sherroom.”

Humor falls from her face, replaced by melancholy and sorrow. Seconds stretch, the silence heavy. Once she’s done processing my words, she decides to open the door anyway.