AllFreeNovel
Share Us
15
RIDGE
“Wait ’til you see the backyard.” I sweep Lacy through sliding glass doors to the large wraparound deck at the back of the house.
Mature, tall pines flank the sprawling, snow-dusted yard, and the blazing December sky ads an unplanned touch of romance to the picture-perfect view.
“Just think of it, Lace.” I sling my arm over her shoulders, squeezing her closer to my side as a feeling of warmth blooms in my chest. “There’s room for a playhouse and a swing, and a vegetable garden if you want one.”
It’s a postage stamp compared to the property at Canyon Spring, yet I can picture us here—sitting on the deck each summer night, rocking our baby to sleep in front of the fireplace in the winter, watching that child grow and thrive here, and making the space our own.
When the realtor, Sonny, first showed it to me, I thought it might be a decent fit. It’s close enough to both town and Canyon Spring to be convenient, yet far enough away for privacy. It’s not so old that it needs a lot of work and not too new to lack character. Overall, a good, practical option, and at a reasonable price.
But the minute Lacy walked through the door, glowing from the cold, something changed. Maybe it was the way she toed off her boots in the foyer like she would at home, or how she rubbed at her growing baby bump each time we entered a room—her presence transformed the place. And even though her face gave no hint to what she was thinking, she looked like she fit here.
Like this sweet little house on Maple Drive was meant for her.
Suddenly I wasn’t just looking at the prospect of buying a house, I was struck by a dream of making it a home. Making itourhome.
“Hell,” I continue, my vision for our future as bright as the setting sun, “we could even fit a pool back here. Or a hot tub. Or a pool and a hot tub.”
Her gaze seems fixed on the horizon and the light layer of newly fallen snow, not actually taking in the sights. Has she heard anything I’ve said? Either she’s tired or bored or…fuck, who knows what.
She’s barely said a word. Our entire tour of the place has been spent with me babbling like a fool, and her either distracted or disinterested. Even our kiss hello felt a bit like a brush-off—her lips grazing mine as though an afterthought.
After all our time together, and after the surreal moment of seeing our baby through the ultrasound, two weeks ago, I thought we were past this. Beyond the need for her walls and separation.
Still hopeful, I plow on, “And that kitchen… I know neither of us is much for cooking, but it’s a great space, lots of room for guests, yet cozy. Plus, four bedrooms. Sonny says it’s the only place on the market with four. Normally I wouldn’t trust a realtor, but he knows better than to try and screw me over.”
“Mm-hmm.” She turns out of my hold, sauntering back inside, and I follow like a puppy at her heels.
“He says it’ll go fast, so if you like it, I’m thinking we should put an offer in tonight. Tomorrow at the latest.”
She seems to wander aimlessly, running a hand over the granite countertop as she passes through the kitchen, her sock-covered feet moving silently over the hardwood. In the center of the room, she pauses before turning in a slow circle with her gaze stuck on the floor.
Finally, she stops to face me. Her head is bowed, one hand cradling the captivating swell of her belly, and a thick lock of hair trails over her shoulder, curling around the plump curve of her breast.
She looks subdued. Submissive. Like she belongs here, pregnant and…mine.
All fucking mine.
“You haven’t said much.” The strain in my voice seems amplified by the small space. “What do you think of it?”
“Ridge…” My name’s followed by a heavy sigh that squashes not only my raging libido, but most of the hope I’ve been carrying as well.
I should have expected her to object—she’s been fighting this move every step of the way from the moment I first suggested it. If it’s not the size or the location, it’s some other worry. There’s always an excuse. Always a reason to stay where she is. Always something to block me from doing what’s right. From making her well and trulymine.
She says she doesn’t want to be a kept woman, like I’m planning to lock her up and throw away the key. Like I want anything for her other than the best.
With all her stalling, I’ve got to wonder if her reluctance isn’t so much about the place as it is me. Because even though we’ve spent nearly every available hour together these past two months, and despite feeling closer to her than any woman I’ve ever met, she’s still not trulywith me.
I can make her come on my cock, repeatedly, and sometimes with only a single stroke, but no matter what I say or do, I can’t seem to win her trust. And I can never tell what she’s got going on in that quick-witted mind of hers.
Does she even want to be here?
“You don’t like it?” I ask, dancing around the truth and avoiding my fears.
With a huff, her hands land on her hips, and her dark stare collides with mine. “What’s not to like? Granite, hardwood, four bedrooms, and that clawfoot tub in the second bathroom? It’s stunning. More beautiful than anything I could ever imagine owning.”
