Caspian: The Not So Friendly Ghost
Page 95
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “You haven't even seen the other rooms.”
“Don’t need to!” she said, marching straight toward the bathroom.
Two seconds later, her voice echoed off the tile.
“Oh, this is definitely mine! Look at this tub!” she exclaimed.
I walked in to find her standing inside the massive freestanding tub in her socks, arms spread wide.
“This tub is deep enough for me to submerge my entire existence!” she announced. “My knees won't even touch. And look at this vanity mirror! My skincare routine just ascended to an international level!”
“Congratulations on your spiritual awakening,” I said dryly.
She stepped out and pointed a finger at me. “Do not be jealous of my blessings, sis.”
“I’m not jealous, Willow. Just please unpack your clothes so they aren’t all over the floor.”
“I’m unpacking right now,” she said, already unzipping her makeup case and lining up moisturizers on the counter.
I smiled, shook my head, and stepped back into the hallway.
Down the hall, Kaidence was making engine noises as he rolled a monster truck across the floor.
There was only one place left for me to go: the master suite.
I walked slowly down the long hallway toward the double doors at the far end of the western wing.
With every step, the air seemed to grow heavier.
I remembered the hallway with devastating clarity.
I remembered walking down that exact runner years ago in an oversized sleep shirt, only for Caspian to come up behind me, catch me around the waist, and lift me off the floor while I shrieked and cursed at him for startling me. I remembered the rumble of his chest against my back when he laughed, the possessive weight of his arm around my middle, and the way he'd smack my hip before carrying me through the doorway.
My hand trembled as I reached out and touched the cool brass handle.
“Okay, Lakelyn… just walk in.”
I took a deep breath, then opened the door.
The master bedroom was massive, flooded with muted afternoon light filtering through tall windows. Like the rest of the house, it had been updated over the years. Most of the furniture I remembered was gone, replaced with pieces that felt newer and cleaner, but the room still carried enough of Caspian’s taste to make my chest tighten.
Of course it’s still black.
Apparently that little fact hadn’t been forgotten by his mom, who had clearly made sure the room was fixed in a way he would’ve approved of.
The bed was a massive California king with a tall black upholstered headboard, dressed in crisp white bedding with charcoal pillows and a thick black throw folded across the foot. Matching black nightstands sat on either side, topped with modern lamps, while a dark dresser stretched along the opposite wall. The rug beneath the bed was softer and lighter than anything Caspian would have chosen for himself, but the overall feel was still masculine, sleek, and expensive.
I stood there taking it all in.
It wasn’t exactly our old bedroom, but it was close enough to feel familiar.
I let out a quiet laugh and shook my head. “We’re definitely adding a woman’s touch in here.”
For now, though, it worked.
My attention shifted back to the bed, and just seeing the size of it brought an old memory rushing back.
Caspian had always been dramatic about his personal space. When he first had his old California king delivered, I’d stood right here fussing at him for wasting money on something that could sleep four people. He’d simply pulled me against his chest, wrapped his arms around my waist, and told me in that low, uncompromising tone that a big man needed a big bed.