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“Hop in, girlie.” Pepper slants her head apprehensively as I pat the seat next to me.
Oh, for fuck's sake. I shiver, extending the blanket to her side. She jumps up happily. “Spoiled pup.”
She barks in response, communicating her approval by snuggling into me. I pull the golf cart out of the garage, tightening my scarf and yanking the blanket to cover us both. The wind whips around us on our way to Holmes Court. In late October, it’s hit or miss on the fall weather. Our days are bright and cool, but our nights are dropping fast. Soon, the time will change and it’ll be dark well before the salon closes.
As I drive, an ache sits heavy on my chest. Ford hasn’t been home in almost three weeks. The few hours we stole between his original work assignment and his Reserve weekend seem like forever ago.
The night he was supposed to return, he called with the news he had to go out on a scouting mission.
I was sad, disappointed, and felt a myriad of other emotions.
Ford was downright pissed.
Furious, to be exact.
He couldn’t say or explain, but the emanating fury in his voice had my hair standing on end.
We had a lot more communication than that first week, talking several times a day. With each conversation, it was obvious he was more and more on edge.
I tried to hide my feelings until the gifts started arriving.
First, the flowers at the salon.
Fuck, I love you.
Then, the gift basket on the counter at home with the wine from our first date.
Never liked wine until that night, babe.
I drank half the bottle on the porch, staring at the stars.
Finally, the large overstuffed envelope arrived with blueprints and sketches.
Three home designs with differences I wasn’t prepared for.
Time to speed up our plans. You don’t like these, we’ll re-group.
That night, I cried myself to sleep in the bed covered by the most amazing house plans ever.
Pepper’s bark brings me out of my head and, without realizing, I notice I’ve stopped in front of the empty lot. My mind goes to the sketches. I try to picture each of them sitting on this property.
Everything about the Whitman home is incredible, one of my favorites being the view at dusk right as the sun sets behind the mountainous terrain. Depending on the season, you can appreciate the beauty of the leaves changing, the snow sticking to the high trees, the endless greenery—it’s all breathtaking.
Right now, I watch the last of the sun disappear, and clarity knocks the breath out of me.
The plan that will allow the perfect view from the wall of windows across the back of the house, including the master bedroom.
Excitement bubbles to the surface and I squeal, accelerating so fast we lurch backward.
Major and Ace are in the garage when I pull up, both scowling in my direction.
“What the fuck, Rowan? It’s fifty degrees outside.”
At the sound of the gruff voice, Pepper pops up, wagging her tail.
“We needed fresh air.” I instantly realize my mistake.
It was instinct to bring Pepper. But this is Major and Jewls’ brand new house.
