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He hands me a black one that I pull on as I walk over to my discarded jeans and panties, but I only put the panties on.
“I would argue that there’s no need for them, but… who knows.” I hear him behind me.
“Who knows? What do you mean?” I turn to him, watching as he pulls on a black t-shirt, over his black joggers, while heading out of the room.
As we walk down the floating wood staircase, I wonder how the hell this man carried me up these stairs last night. Opposite the stairs on the ground floor sits a beautifully carved wooden double door. I briefly glance to the left, noting the huge wood dining table sitting in front of the large windows at the front of the house, and when we turn to the right, I note the kitchen, made of dark, rough wood and black stone worktops, a large island in the middle.
But when I fully turn toward the back of the house, I stop dead in my tracks. Windows cover the whole length of it, only interrupted once every ten feet or so by thick wood pillars the same shade as the kitchen. It feels like I’m outside… and that view…
“Fuck…” My mouth drops, but I’m too caught in this view of the large deck with a dining and sitting area, all overlooking the dense, vast forest. Nothing else. Only green, vibrant forest.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
It is… I understand now, why he’s here.
The soft sway of the leaf covered trees, the pale blue of the sky, the peacefulness…
Home…
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
VINCENT
Ileft her watching the view. I know it’s quite something. It’s even more impressive when it rains. There used to be an old cabin here before, so all I had to do was tear that down. I didn’t have to invade the forest much, since the plot was already cleared.
I turn the espresso machine on, then head to the fridge and pull out some breakfast ingredients, but when I turn around, she stands before the island, head cocked, eyes on me.
“What?” I stop in my tracks.
“You look… very domesticated. Unusual.” She sits at the island, resting her forearms on it, still very focused on me.
“Unusual?” I drop everything on the worktop, bringing over some eggs, veg, and some utensils and bowls. “Did you think I would be surrounded by servants?”
She pulls her shoulders back, her eyes widening slightly. “Not necessarily.”
“I think my status in The Sanctum paints an interesting picture from the outside. Don’t get me wrong, I like having staff dealing with shit I don’t have time for. But I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth, and I need to stay grounded. Plus, I don’t like people running around my house. This… well, this is my own sanctum. And there are guards roaming the grounds, but no, not my house.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything. I guess I’ve never thought of you in a house as inviting as this, just cooking and making coffee. I think… I think I’ve been surrounded by the wrong people.” She turns her head toward the window, sighing as she intertwines her hands, clutching her fingers tight.
“There’s no denying that. But… things will change. Soon. Very soon.”
She turns back to me and smiles.
“So it’s… only you here? All the time?” She raises an eyebrow, a knowing, questioning look in her eyes.
“Cheeky Little Eve. Why don’t you just ask the questions you want answers to?”
“Maybe it’s not my place to be that direct… I’m trying to give you a chance to refuse to acknowledge the question, I guess.” She grabs a small bowl, cracks a few eggs in, and begins whisking them.
“Not many people know of this place. The guys come here, and obviously the security team. My ex knows of it, but it’s been a few years since, and… my mother, who comes fairly often. That’s pretty much it.” I shrug and go to make coffee and fry some bacon. I didn’t miss the twinkle in her eyes when she saw it, nor the sound of her stomach. Did they starve her in the Holt house?
“Oh… your mother. June, right?”
I stop with the tongs midair and turn my head to her. “Yes. You remember…”
“Of course. I know I only met her once, but… that type of kindness stays with you. She lives in town, East Side, right?”
She’s not wrong; my mom is a sweet woman, too sweet, too easy to take advantage of sometimes. Although the life she’s led has slowly toughened her up. Not with the right people, though. With the right people, she’s her normal self. Maddox considers her his mother too, and she’s never called him anything butson.
