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Rusty Nailed

Page 55

   


“I see that.”
“It’s pretty low.”
“It would seem.”
He came and stood in front of me, his body tense. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“I know.” I smoothed his hair back from his face and looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry too.”
“Can I have that key back?”
“Already?” I asked.
“Gimme it,” he muttered, one corner of his mouth lifting.
I looked at him curiously, but handed it back to him. He looked at it carefully, then back at me.
“I’ve never lived with anyone. You know that, right?”
I nodded.
He was quiet for a moment, his eyes thoughtful. Then he opened my hand and placed the key back in the middle of it. Closing my hand over it, he smiled. “Welcome home, babe.”
I smiled back and let him pull me into a slow and tentative kiss. This was better.
• • •
We ate dinner sitting cross-legged on the inflatable bed, which proved more difficult than I’d thought. First on the list, get some chairs over here pronto.
After dinner we walked from room to room, talking about what might go here, and what might go there. We had a pretty good idea of where we wanted everything, but there was nothing like walking through it together and making plans. When he said he’d never lived with anyone before, he wasn’t the only one. I’d had roommates, but never lived with a boyfriend.
Until now Simon and I had been very much together, but still very much our own entities. That had changed now. I was “living with someone.” If someone asked, “Hey, is that Caroline seeing anyone?” the answer would be, “Oh yeah, she and her boyfriend are living together,” or, “Yep, she and her boyfriend just bought a house together.” We were taking a very big step here, but a step I was glad we were taking.
And as we walked through our new home, room by room, I began to dream a little. I’d always seen myself in a big house like this someday, but never thought it would happen so quickly. I could always see past the things that needed to be changed, but now that I was in here, and the space was really and truly ours, I could feel the house. Feel what it had been, and what would be again for us.
A home. And isn’t that exciting? And a little scary.
When we finally made it to the master bedroom, I asked why we weren’t staying in there tonight.
“No lights; all the bulbs are burned out. I’ll get some tomorrow,” Simon answered, tugging me toward the window. The moonlight came through the glass, illuminating the room with the barest hint of blue. He sat on the window seat, pulling me onto his lap. “Where do you think we should put our bed?” he asked, nuzzling my neck.
“Our blow-up bed?”
“No, our new bed. You’re getting us a new bed, right?”
“New house, new bed. That sounds fair. I was thinking right there.” I pointed to the opposite wall. “Then when we wake up, we can see the bay. The light in the morning will be fantastic.”
“We might even be able to see the city,” he mused, resting his head on my shoulder.
“When it’s not foggy, for sure.” I sighed, finally feeling the weight of the day beginning to fall away.
“Did I tell you I had the cleaning crew pay extra-special attention to the claw-foot tub?” he asked.
The one thing he’d managed to do right that day was get a cleaning crew in to scour the place top to bottom as soon as the key was officially in his hands. We might be tearing half the stuff out of this house, but by God, it’d be clean stuff.
“Shut up.”
“If I did, you wouldn’t hear the best part,” he teased.
“Hit me, Wallbanger.”
“When I went out to get the bed? I also bought you some Mr. Bubble.”
“Shut up.”
“If I did, you’ll never hear the bestest part.”
“Bestest?”
“Yes. The bestest part is that I’m going to take a bubble bath with you. And not because I’m planning on seducing you, which I’ll try. And not because you’ll need help washing your back, which I’ll offer to do. But for a very specific reason,” he said, getting up and pulling me toward the bathroom.
“To see me naked?”
“That’s just a bonus. The real reason is that the lightbulbs are burned out in here too, and I know you’d get totally spooked if you had to stay here by yourself in the dark.” He grinned as we entered the bathroom.
“You do know me well,” I agreed.
From a bag in the corner, he pulled out a package of tea lights and a box of matches. “Practical bathing with a side of romance.”
I laughed out loud. And took a bath with Mr. Bubble and Mr. Parker in that very tub. Heaven. And I thought I was the practical romantic.
An hour later, I was camping on the floor of my new living room on a blow-up bed with my new roomie. I was relaxed; my limbs were limp and noodley. And when Simon slid into me to christen this first of many rooms, I allowed myself to be swept away.
Except I wasn’t. He tried everything he could to sweep me away, but there was no sweeping.
But it was still wonderful and warm and delicious, and the perfect way to end such an up-and-down day.
“No?” Simon asked as he panted into my ear, his body slick on top of me.
I stroked his back as I shook my head, feeling him finally relax into me. “I love you, Simon,” I whispered. “So much.”
He rolled us so I could lie in his nook, where the rise and fall of his chest lulled me. “Love you too, babe,” he whispered back, holding me close.
And as I slipped toward sleep, listening to all the unfamiliar sounds of our new home, I took a quick inventory. O was still in there, just a little skittish tonight.
All was good in the new neighborhood.
chapter eighteen
I sat in my office, rearranging the piles of paper on my desk once more. Lining up the edges, positioning the folders so that they were at perfect right angles with the side of the desk. I inspected and removed three petals from the roses in the vase, goldenrod shot through with the palest of pink.
Jillian was due in any moment.
As Simon and I spent our first weekend in our new home, she and Benjamin spent it readjusting in theirs after their lengthy absence. She’d texted me to let me know they were home, and we agreed to meet at work on Monday. I was handing back the keys to the kingdom.
I’d loved playing Jillian for a few months. It’d been longer than I’d planned, but I’d gotten a taste of what life might be like a few years down the road. I had always seen myself as part of a larger team, and my normal role was exactly what I wanted. I’d handled the additional responsibility well, but was I at heart a manager? No. Did I want to run a business, or just create beautiful and enchanting places that a business or family might want to inhabit?