She doesn’t know how you feel about her.
I look at her standing in front of the entrance to the house, her face flushed. Her pretty green eyes are twinkling again, albeit not as brightly as before. Nerves and determination pump in my veins. I want her to know how precious she is to me, and how happy I am to share my home with her.
This could end up as a rebound. But I don’t want to exercise patience, like I did after she broke up with her previous boyfriend, and miss my chance again.
I’m sick of waiting. I can take this one day at a time and convince her to giveusa chance by indulging her, spoiling her and ruining her for other men.
“Let me show you around.” I want to reach for her hand, but instead put mine on her back and usher her in.
Although I didn’t initially buy and renovate the mansion for myself, it has a lot of nice features and amenities. It opens to a massive foyer with lots of natural light that pours in during the day. Pale marble covers the foyer, but oak flooring on the rest of the first level gives a warm coziness to the house. Thick rugs are thrown in the living room, while the formal dining room sports a huge table, big enough to entertain twenty. The kitchens are sizable as well; the second one was my mother’s request—because apparently having two kitchens is popular, not because she actually cooks.
“Wow. I love your kitchen.” Molly’s gaze roams around. “Absolutely amazing.” She runs her hand over the spotless stove and ovens.
I’m glad my housekeeping staff does such a good job. I should give them a bonus. “Do you cook?”
“Uh-huh. Mostly baking, but yeah.” Then she notices the other kitchen. “You havefourovens?” She sounds like somebody just gave her a limitless credit card.
“Yeah. You can use any or all of them if you like.”
“Thank you. I’m going to bake you my specialty: double chocolate chip cookies. They’re to die for. Everyone at the gym comes by my office to compliment me whenever I bring them to work.”
“I thought the people at Get Jacked are too worried about getting jacked to eat cookies.”Did that sound disapproving? I hate it that they’ve had Molly’s cookies multiple times, while I didn’t even know she baked.
“Well, the back-office people don’t care. And it doesn’t matter to the trainers—I mean, they work out all the time, so…”
“I wasn’t judging. Just jealous that I never got to have your cookies before.”
“Oh.” She gives me a relieved smile. “I can bake some for you every day if you want.”
“Well, maybe noteveryday. I didn’t bring you here to cook for me.” That’s not the point at all. Any pampering should flow in the opposite direction. Can’t ruin her if she’s working hard to spoil me. “Besides, I have people who come over to take care of things like that.”
I show her the sunroom and the rest. I mention the pool and the gym, but don’t take her to see them since she probably works out at Get Jacked. Although I’d prefer that she exercise with me, I do it in the morning before I go into the office. She undoubtedly doesn’t want to get up that early. Besides, if she shows up in a bathing suit, I won’t be swimming laps for long.
“Your home’s so warm and welcoming,” she says as we finish the tour of the first floor. “I thought most mansions were, like, you know, filled with expensive things. Like a showroom.”
“I want a home where I can relax, and I’ve swapped out most of the furnishings.” Mom’s preference does indeed run to stuffing rooms with priceless items. I’m partial to comfort, and I love it that Molly likes my home. A castle wouldn’t mean a thing if it didn’t make her happy. I could live in a hut without the Internet—or modern plumbing—if it would make her content.
“I love it. It suits you,” she says, her eyes shining.
“The question is, does it suityou?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“Good. But wait until you see the library.” I’m excited about showing her my most prized room—the one I added after moving in and put the most thought and effort into. I’ve filled it with books she gushed over on her Instagram account.
She inhales sharply and stops in her tracks. “You have alibrary?”
“Uh-huh. Upstairs.”
“We’ve gotta go see it! Like,now!” She takes my hand.
It’s the first time she’s done that. I freeze for a second, and my entire body is buzzing. I know it’s not me but the prospect of seeing the library that’s electrifying her. But that doesn’t matter when her hand is wrapped around mine and she’s looking up at me with excitement and anticipation shining in her beautiful eyes.
I escort her up the winding staircase as casually as possible, wishing the stairs would never end so we could hold hands like this forever. When we reach the library, she lets go—leaving me slightly bereft—and steps inside. Her hands cover her mouth as she lets out a gasp. “Oh my gosh…”
The reaction is satisfying. The architect I hired took out two walls and merged three large bedrooms into a single space for the library. The ceiling is vaulted and has skylights. When you recline in one of the armchairs, you can see the night sky through the clear glass.
Molly moves further inside. “These chairs look so comfy.” Her fingertips brush the buttery leather of each seat, the soft throw blankets resting over the arms. Carelessly tossed thick rugs cover the floor. She sees an espresso machine on a stand and lets out a small squeal. “Oh my God, this is like the most perfect thing. Booksandcoffee! Yum.”
