I already love him. I know that. The mini-me house? Incredible. I mean, a little extreme, as far as grand gestures go, though I am in no way against letting Grant Bowman spoil me.
But the cat? Ooooooh, boy, does he have me with the cat. I am signed, sealed, and officially delivered.
“Don’t you hate cats?”
“I do.”
I nod. “Makes total sense. You all right, Grant?”
“I don’t know. Do you think you could love me? ’Cause I love you so fucking much.”
“I could.” I laugh, half crying. “I could love you. I mean, I do.”
He nods, all stoic and stiff, that muscle flexing in his jaw. “You staying?” The cat’s strangely mottled eyes follow every move I make.
“Is there a list of rules someplace I should know about?” I lift my chin to indicate the giant wall of cupboards to my left. “Maybe hiding in there?”
“Not yet.”
“Any predetermined boundaries? Specific instructions? Ways I can and cannot behave? Dress code?”
“No. Unless you want that.” He glances down at my skirt and then back up, one eyebrow raised. “I’m working really hard on keeping things… unplanned with you. I hope the two of us can take things a step at a time.”
“Oh. You mean, we’d be doing it totally…” I smirk. “Off the cuff?”
With a shout of laughter, he leans in to kiss me, and I kiss him back, and nothing’s ever felt so much like home.
When Devil Cat gives a high-pitched shriek and dives from his shoulder into the yard, we are both way too busy to look. Or care.
We’ve got much more interesting things to do.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
Grant
APRIL
I’M IN THE KITCHENwhen Rae comes up from the yard, so I hear the screen door hinges and then her steps. She comes inside, and I’ve already got her glass out. It’s pink. White wine with blackberry liqueur.
“Oh wow,” she says with a sigh, accepting the glass and my kiss.
“Your bath is ready.”
“Really?”
“Piping hot. Bubbles. Candles lit.”
With a happy smile, she takes the drink with her up the stairs to the bedroom I’ve just finished renovating. It’s more luxurious than before, with some custom built-in features that we’re nowhere near done exploring. It’ll take years, I figure, to run through the full gamut of what Rae and I can get up to in that room. The new tub restraints alone keep us entertained night after night.
“You coming?” she calls.
“Be right there.” I throw some parsley on the plate, grab radishes from the fridge, and make my way up to where the woman I love is living out my wildest dreams.
“Snacks,” I tell her, settling the tray across the tub. It’s a deep one with room for us both. Tonight, though, we’re not playing. We’ve got somewhere to be. “We need you fed before the show.”
“Oh, the show. I’d almost forgotten.”
“Your dad hasn’t let me forget it for a second.”
