AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s phenomenal.” Her hand crawls to her throat. “Really, Ivy, are you sure you want to part with this one?”
My eyes scan over their faces, and I choke down the urge to brush my fingers over the texture of their features. “I already have. You know who it belongs to.”
She nods, her typically joyful lips tightened into a brittle smile, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She was discreet after my dad got sick, too, when all my paintings were tinged with death. It delights me that she sees this is the same.
Two hours later, I’m standing at the kitchen island with my realtor, Simone.
“That’s about it for the tour,” she says. “Although I can’t imagine what else one home could offer. What do you think?”
Not interested in senseless fluff, I give it to her straight. “I’ll take it.” I whip a folder out of my bag with everything she needs, handing her a huge stack of papers. “This is your signed copy of the home purchase. All the necessary documents have been filed with the county and state.” Her brows crease as she stammers, but I plow on through. “The cash is being transferred as we speak.”
She scrunches her forehead with the tilt of her head, her ponytail swishing through the air. Apparently, my taking initiative and doing her work have unmoored her. “I’m sorry. I don’t … that’s not how home sales work.”
Here’s the thing about Simone, the reason she’s my realtor: At only twenty-one years old, she’s over one hundred thousand dollars in debt. Poor girl. She recently applied at four strip clubs but is dreading the idea. Sick about it. She cried through the first two interviews. Today, I’m Simone’s fucking savior.
I offer my best mollifying smile, hoping the girl has better sense now than she did when racking up credit card debt. “It does for this one.”
Moving us forward, I show her the documents again so she can seethe signatures are in all the right places. Seller’s. Buyer’s—I’m using one of the aliases my father provided me. It’s all there. Title and taxes and all the red tape sealed, signed, and delivered. She’ll barely need to lift a finger.
“I paid three hundred thousand over asking for good measure. The owners certainly won’t have a problem with that,” I assure her. “And here’s the best part, Simone: in addition to your commission, I’ve transferred five hundred thousand dollars into your account.”
She murmurs unintelligible mutterings through a slicing exhale, her lips opening and closing without coherent words. It’s like she’s broken.
Toughen up, girl.
“All you have to do, Simone, is take the paperwork, drive into town, and wait about an hour. I’ll email you a video and a phone number to pass on to the owners. Once you’ve completed that, the money is yours.”
The briefest shadow of conflict envelops her like octopus tentacles snaring prey, but I squash that, freeing her to take the plunge.
“Go ahead and check your account. The funds are pending,” I tell her.
She does, and when my claim is confirmed, she comes to her senses, shrieking, bouncing, and hugging me, her clipboard and purse crashing to the ceramic tile with a clatter.
After she exits, I mosey down to the basement—scents of sugar and citrus, leather and smoke engulfing me with every step—and rip off the baseboard that was going to be my cheesy five-year anniversary gift. Evidence of too many rom-com movies and romance novels.
Within these walls, I am traveling an epic journey, mining a piece of my soul that I never knew was missing—all because of the love of one astounding man, whose heart is the shooting star I caught, and the comfort of a family of men who offered the net to catch it.
I am forever yours, Gavin Wells. Thank youfor this life.
Good God, I was a sappy fool.
Back upstairs, I cram it into my bag and head outside to the empty grounds. The drained pool is still here—a lifeless monument paying homage to the vacant home. But the obstacle course, shooting range, and firepit have all vanished. The glassy pond mirrors the loss. An empty palette is always easiest though.
Even in the desolation, I can see the frayed edges of what was, worn and tattered and tinged by hazy golden dust, almost as if I’d dreamed it. And yet, standing here, heart torn between the tethering it longs for and the adoption of the justice it’s steering toward, I can’t help but reach out and brush it.
My fingertips tingle, cheeks flushing with the heat of what was once real and mine.
It’s a brisk morning. I thought we were bundled up and trekking through our acreage in the foggy amber light to snuggle by the pond, but something feral seized Wells on the way. His eyes glint with a roguish glee. Boyish and imposing at once.
He scoops me up, sprinting with me thrown over his shoulder as I squeal, and drops me before the obstacle course with a soul-scathing kiss, like he’s branding my insides. When my knees are good and weak, those emeralds twinkle with a dare.
He tucks a wisp of my hair behind my icy earlobe. “I told you I’d chase you to the ends of the earth, Little Storm. Let’s give it a go right here.”
Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and the past week, I’ve been less in the mood for anything, even our mind-blowing sex. He’s obviously wound tight even though he fucked me into the stone tiles of the shower last night and I returned his wake-up call with a thigh-shaking, deep-throated blow job this morning. The ravenous set of his lips screams how much he’s missed me.
I shake my head with a rebuking smirk, jutting my hip to the side. “With the right motivation, I can outrun anyone.” My eyebrows hikeup my forehead as I scrape my teeth over my lip in a taunt. “Most especially, you, Chief.”
He howls like he did the last time I told him I’d run, the thunderous bellow ricocheting off the surrounding woods with a haughty echo. His fingers curl around my jaw. “There’s no incentive in this life that out trumps my need for you, Ivy.” His teeth nip at my ear, then at my neck below it, peppering my skin with kisses as a crest of electricity shivers through me. “Being a brat only makes me crave you more. Go,” he rasps. “Two-minute head start, but when I catch you, I fuck you in all the ways I want.”
