Page 125 of Just Ten Seconds

He turns off the ignition, and we sit here in silence.

“You want me to buy the lake house?” I ask as I look at the front porch that he painted just before the weather got too cold.

“Kind of.” He lifts my hand to his lips and places a tender kiss on my palm. “Come inside. I want to show you something first.”

I step out of the truck and hug my coat to my body as my feet crunch on the snow-covered gravel. The house looks larger with the trees bare, showing off the crisp blue sky behind it.

We walk inside, and I slide my boots off before walking on the wood floor. Dean takes my coat and then his and hangs them in the coat closet that he finally finished with crown molding.

The house is near complete, minus a few projects, like shelving in the pantry and a new vanity in the upstairs bathroom. Aside from that, it is almost ready to be put on the market.

The kitchen is finished with a white marble-tiled backsplash, and he has small green cactus plants on the counter to give it that Southern farmhouse look everyone wants. The living room now has a brown leather sectional and wicker end table. When he purchased the furniture, I thought he was planning on living here himself. Now, I’m just confused.

Dean takes my hand, and we walk through the kitchen to a closed door. He stops outside for a moment and takes a deep breath. His back looks tense as he puts his hand on the handle and slowly turns it. I am starting to get nervous at what lies on the other side. Not for any reason other than his obvious hesitation.

When he opens the door, I’m surprised to see a beautiful office. White shelving lines the back wall, all built-in and bare. There’s a metal ladder leaning against them, and it’s attached to a pole that lets you roll it back and forth like you’re in a library. In front is a beautiful mahogany desk with thick legs and intricate scrollwork. I run my hand over one of the rosettes in the corner.

“I found it at an antique fair,” he explains. “It was an oak, but I thought the darker stain would bring out the detail more. Although you can see the scratches.”

There are small dents in the desk. It’s perfectly imperfect.

“I love it.”

A slow smile builds on his face. “I hoped you would. Happy belated Birthday.”

I blink up at him. “You got me a desk?”

His hands slide into his pockets as he settles back on his heels. “Look around.”

He glances around the room, and I follow him.

There are sixteen white frames on the wall, empty. At first, you’d think they were some abstract art installation, but now, I’m realizing they are just waiting for something to be placed inside.

“I thought you could put your favorite playbills inside these. And look.” He points to speakers on the ceiling. “They’re connected to the Bluetooth, so you can pump your playlist while you work.”

I look back at him in amazement. He didn’t just build me a desk. He built me a room.

“Dean, this is … wow. I can’t tell you how much I love it. You did all this, so I’d buy your house?”

He leans forward with a twerk to his jaw. “No.”

One of my eyes closes as I assess his answer.

“I’m not selling,” he states. “I was hoping that you would consider making this your home. With me. And Amanda.”

My hand rests on my heart as I try to control it from swelling out of my chest. “You want me to live with you?”

“Yes.”

“Amanda wants this too?”

“She loves the idea. More than she loves pancakes.” He takes a step forward. “I want this. With you. I want to make a family with you.”

Tears build behind my eyes. “You do?”

He takes his hands out of his pockets and holds them out in offering. “I want to come in here and bring you coffee while you’re busy going over scripts and making lesson plans for the acting classes you’ll be teaching. At the end of the day, I’ll take you and Amanda to the theater and watch you from the front row.” He takes another step closer and raises a brow. “And if I could be ever enticing, there is a two-person Jacuzzi tub you can enjoy every day for as long as we both shall live.”

Those tears, the ones that were building behind my eyes? They are falling down my cheeks. He wants to be a family. With me. Me. A girl whose father abandoned her. A woman whose husband used her. An almost-mother who lost her chance and didn’t think it would ever happen again. It might not come in the most conventional of ways, but a family is a family. And this one just happens to be perfect.