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“I have, actually.” Her cheeks reddened. “I’m taking freshman year to sort things out, figure out what my dreams are.”
“That must be nice,” I said.
“I suppose so. Didn’t you do that when you began college?”
I shook my head. “I know where my future lies. Here. The ranch. It’ll be mine someday, and I need to know how to run it. My father taught me everything he knows, and college has taught me more about the business side of things.”
“You never had a dream, then? Other than the ranch?”
“No,” I said truthfully. “I never did.”
Her eyes took on a faraway look, a look laced with sadness. Was she feeling bad for me? I slid my finger over her hairline and down her silken braid that fell over one shoulder.
“I have a dream now,” I said softly.
“Do you?”
“I do.” I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. “Do you still want me to be the one?”
She nodded shyly.
“I want that too.” In fact, I never wanted another man to touch this beautiful flower—a flower that had wilted from lack of sun but now was blooming in full color.
What had she done to me? I was no poet, yet here I stood, thinking of her metaphorically as a flower…and it seemed so truthful and right.
I could make love to her right here in the greenhouse. My mother wasn’t home, and my father never set foot in here. It seemed apt…but no. No one’s first time should be on the cold floor of a glass house. Surrounded by flowers and greenery? Maybe, but not here.
Her first time would take place in a bed in the arms of a man who truly cared.
The guesthouse was fully furnished. We’d go there.
And we’d go now.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Daphne
Brad Steel was going to make love to me.
He was the man of my dreams…and he wouldn’t stop this time. I wouldn’t let him.
We drove to the guesthouse behind the ranch house.
“What if your father comes over here?”
“He won’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay.” I had no reason to disbelieve Brad. He knew his father better than I did. I wrapped my arms around myself, easing the nervous chill inside. I wasn’t frightened, exactly—just apprehensive. I didn’t know anything about lovemaking, but I had a feeling Brad knew a lot.
That fact unsettled me more than a little. He’d been with loads of women, including the beautiful one who’d shown up at my dorm room.
I wanted to be special to him, as special as he was to me. I could only give my virginity once, and while I knew Brad was the one, part of me wished we could experience this together.
Dr. Payne had told me to go slowly in relationships, that adult love was something that didn’t happen overnight. I’d believed him.
Until I met Brad Steel.
I didn’t know what love was, other than the love I felt for my parents. What I felt for Brad was brand-new to me—brand-new and so intense.
Was I in love?
Could a person fall in love in a week’s time?
In fairy tales, maybe, but in real life?
Brad led me into the guesthouse. It was nearly as big as the main house.
“Just how many guests do you have?” I asked.
“Not a lot.”
“Then why such a big house for them?”
He laughed. “I have no idea. The house has been here my whole life. Sometimes family stays here. Other times, friends. But honestly, it doesn’t get used that much.”
“Amazing. I can’t even imagine growing up the way you did.”
“Big houses don’t make happiness, Daphne.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. Just never having to worry about money, is all.”
I had a few pairs of designer jeans. Before I’d gone to the hospital, my mother always said we couldn’t afford designer jeans. After I got out of the hospital, my mother and father had spoiled me. We weren’t a rich family, and things were especially tight after my mother stopped working. My hospitalization must have cost a ton, though they never talked to me about it. The only time I asked, they told me it was nothing and not to worry.
I worried anyway.
I walked over to the baby grand piano in the living room. “Do you play?”
He shook his head. “If I did, we’d have a piano in the main house.”
Good point. “Why here, then?”
“Heck if I know. Whoever decorated the house brought it in, I guess.”
I walked to the gorgeous instrument and sat on the bench. Middle C. How did I know that?
“I always wanted to learn piano, but my parents couldn’t afford lessons.” I touched the key and played the note.
“There you go,” he said.
“That’s middle C.” Next was D, and then E, F, and G. I laced my fingers over C, E, and G and played a chord. This was getting weird.
“That’s pretty,” he said. “What is it?”
“Just a chord. C major.” I played the chord again, the CE inversion.
