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I get my first look at the room he didn’t want me to see until I was sure I’d be staying, and my breath wooshes from my body at the sight. For one, it’shuge. Like larger than any bedroom has a right to be. For two, it’sbeautiful.
“Holy shit,” I gasp, spinning in a circle. My eyes dart from top to bottom, corner to corner, as I take it all in.
It’s got a vaulted ceiling, with beams like the living room, as well as a matching fireplace with stone detailing. The walls are natural pine shiplap, giving it a warm, rustic feel. The floors are the same wood as the rest of the house, but beneath the massive California king bed sits a huge, plush rug.
There’s a couch in front of the fireplace. A tv is attached to the stone above the mantle. Round, iron chandeliers are suspended from the beams; one above the couch, another above the bed. There’s a door on either side of the bathroom that I can only assume are two matching walk-in closets.
Everything is simple and warmly decorated, though it could definitely use a woman’s touch. The best part, however, is the floor-to-ceiling windows that surround the fireplace, and the opposite wall, looking out at hundreds of acres of wilderness.
Logan comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle. His chin rests on my head, and I lean back relaxing into his body. “Do you like it?”
“Logan, I love it,” I breathe. “It’s so perfect.”
“Good, I’m glad.” Releasing me, he wraps his hand around mine and tugs me toward the closed doors next to the bathroom. “I want to show you something.”
He opens the one on the right, and sure enough, a massive walk-in closet that’s filled less than a quarter full lights up before me.
“Wow,” I chuckle. “You really need to go shopping to fill this thing.” He grunts, shaking his head.
“If you want me to fill it with clothes for you, I will.”
Peeking up at him, I grin. “I don’t need you to shop for me. I can do it myself, and I don’t want to take over your closet. I’m sure there’s another.” There I go, talking like this is my house. Like I live here already.
Logan shrugs. “It’s our closet, Shiloh. Fill it up. Throw my stuff on the floor or in the dresser. Doesn’t matter to me.”
My brows lift. I glance behind him, looking at the second door. His eyes follow my gaze. He smiles again, this one a bit more guarded than the rest. He flicks the closet light off, closing the door behind him as he pulls me toward door number two.
Turning to me, his eyes dart between mine, a nervous expression filling his handsome face. “Move in with me.” My mouth drops open. I say nothing. “Move in with me,” he repeats.
My mouth closes, then opens again, bobbing like a fish out of water. “What?” I murmur. “Are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m playing? At any point in these past few days have I fucked around like that?” I shake my head. He hasn’t. He’s one of the most honest, serious people I’ve ever met. He doesn’t fuck around, not when it comes to me.
“Logan, what about my place?”
He shrugs. “It’s destroyed. I didn’t want to tell you before, but it’s fucked.”
“What?” I screech. “Holy shit!”
“I went to see your landlord yesterday. He’s probably going to need to tear the place down and start over.” His words are so nonchalant, that I honestly can’t tell if he’s kidding, or not. “It’s old, Shiloh. It needs a hell of a lota work, and he’s too much of a cheap bastard to do it. I offered, but he said no.”
I stare at him, shock and irritation replacing some of my previous bliss. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
I step away, unsure what to say to his crazy ass right now. I want to scream and shout, stomp my foot and throw a tantrum. But what would be the point? If we’re really doing this…if we’re really jumping into this relationship, the way we both so clearly want to—why wouldn’t I want to move it?
“It’s the principle of the thing,” I growl. “You should have told me about my house instead of banking on us moving in together. We’ve only known—”
“Don’t you dare!” he snaps. Raking a hand through his hair, he growls, “Don’t start that shit again, Shiloh. Who the fuck cares how long it’s been. You love me, I love you. That’s it. Find a different argument.”
“How about—this is—it’s—” I stumble over my words, my hands flying in the air in exasperation. I’ve got nothin’. We both know it. Logan storms over, closing the distance between us, and slams his lips to mine. Shutting me up with a harsh kiss.
Ripping his mouth from mine, he growls, “Stop talking woman, and move in with me.”
“Fine!” I shout, grabbing his cheeks in my palms and yanking his bearded face back down for another kiss.
I tug his lip between my teeth and bite down, showing him my anger in the only way I can. He licks my lips like an animal. It’s primal and very shifter-y of him, and I whine like a wanton omega. He huffs out a smug as fuck sound as he trails kisses down the front of my throat.
