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“Now?” I ask, tempted to pry my eyelids open a hair and peek through my lashes.
“No. Wait just one more minute. Don’t move.”
With that, he cuts off the engine and gets out of the car, the door closing gently behind him.
“What the hell?” I mumble, wondering what the fuck he could possibly be up to. Fortunately, I don’t have a chance to ponder long before he’s opening my door and helping me out of the car.
“Careful,” he says. “There’s a curb.”
I let him guide me, glad I opted for flats today instead of the wedges I normally wear when we go out as I follow him with my eyes closed.
Wherever we are is quiet–I don’t hear cars rolling by or honking in the distance like I would expect downtown. Maybe the restaurant is closer to the edge of town, on the outskirts of the countryside like he’d considered before, or maybe we’re here at a weird hour and no one is out and about.
“Okay,” he says, holding one of my hands and stepping to my side. “You can open them.”
Once again, my blood pressure spikes with excitement and adrenaline, and I nervously force myself to pry my eyes open. It takes a moment for me to get my bearings and realize what I’m looking at, though, because it’s not a restaurant.
It’s a house.
“I don’t understand,” I say, my brows sliding together as I stare up at the beautiful beige exterior of the new construction home.
It has a perfectly preened front yard with a cement walkway leading to the front stoop. A dark-stained fence wraps around the back yard, which looks huge. Colorful flower bushes sit beneath windows on either side of the entryway, and there’s a two-car garage off to the right.
Not nearly as impressive as his current house, but charming, nevertheless. Toned down, more subtle.More my style.
When I’m finally able to pry my eyes away, I look over to find a mischievous smirk on his lips.
“Alessandro, what is this?” I ask softly, desperate for answers. I know what I want it to be, but I’m too afraid of disappointment to let the thought form fully in my mind.
“It’s a house, babydoll,” he assures me. “You’ve seen one before.”
I roll my eyes. “I see that, but why are we here?”
“To look.” He gestures with his head toward the house, then leads me up the walkway by the hand.
I can feel his excitement swelling through our bond with every step, radiating from him in waves. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him this excited about anything before.
I know he’s up to something when he pulls a little silver key out of his pocket and slips it into the door handle.
“Alex,” I say sternly, my gaze bouncing from the front door to him and back again. “Why do you have a key to this house?”
“Well…” he says as he twists the handle and shoves the door open gently. “I bought it.”
My heart falls through my stomach as I glare up at him, shocked by the words that just came out of his mouth.
“You… bought this?”
He nods and gestures for me to go inside, but I’m glued to the spot while my thoughts spin out of control.
Alessandro bought another house in Tolmeco. Is this where he’ll stay while he gets the restaurant open and running?
“But what about the house in Brookesville?” I ask, still unable to move.
“I haven’t decided yet,” he admits.
“You bought a new house, and you don’t know what you’re doing with the old one?” I gape at him, but he just laughs.
“Let’s go inside. I think you’re going to like it.” He urges me toward the door again, and my feet finally unstick from the brick stoop.
