by Sadie Jacks
“We’re getting a new bed,” he snarked.
“I agree. This is complete crap. Especially after sleeping on your lake of a mattress.” I snuggled against his side, watched as he scrolled through another page of homes in the ‘oh my goddess why’ categories of price and square footage.
He stopped on one. It was huge. Very Tuscan villa. But it looked beautiful. About thirty minutes outside the city, I tapped on the picture before he could scroll by in a hurry.
The expanded picture took my breath away. “Ryker, look.” The arches on the doorways, the high peaked roof lines. The windows. Every single aspect was perfect.
“Don’t get too excited. We have to see what it has under the hood.”
I rolled my eyes. His use of car analogies was driving me bonkers. Driving. Ha. I crack myself up.
He clicked on the button for the detailed specs. He blew up the floor plan picture as big as he could get it. Apparently, once you get to a certain price point, the architect’s plans were included. Bonus for spending multiple millions on a house that you would probably only use a quarter of.
“Well, the ceiling heights are livable.”
Meaning nothing shorter than ten feet. “And there are five bedrooms. A dual story master suite,” I pointed out. Surely Mr. Fancypants would be ecstatic about that.
“We’re going to be sleeping together, so we don’t need a dual story. But I guess we could make the lower level into an extra suite for your parents.”
I smiled. “It’s got a heated pool with retractable roofs. Oh, and forty acres.”
He made a rumbling sound deep in his chest. “You in a bikini? Yes. We need to add a pool to our must have list. And with that much acreage, you could just walk around naked all the time. I’d make sure to cover you in suntan lotion.”
I rolled my eyes. We lived in New York. Pools were stupid for a good half of the year.
“Five cars, two offices. A chef’s kitchen. A theater. A game room. Gym,” he rambled through the list of living spaces.
“You could turn the game room into your mancave,” I suggested. “It leads out to the pool.”
He toggled back to the pictures. “Well, the insides have what we need. Let’s look at the pictures.”
I rolled my yes. What he needed. Not me. But I let him have it. Each picture was more stunning than the last. The original owners had either dug down into the water table to form their own lake or one just happened to be there already. In any case, the views were astounding.
I held my breath. Waited for him to wave it off and go back to the listings page. He kept cycling through the pictures. Over and over.
“Want to make an appointment?” I asked softly. I looked up at him.
He nodded, a soft smile on his face. He went back to the original page, called up the realtor directly. “Hello Scott, this is Ryker Penn. I want to look at a house today.”
I snorted as I got out of bed. My man, the bulldozer. Besides taking the ring to the jewelers today, apparently we were going to go tour a home. I walked into the bathroom, started washing the night away.
When I looked back up, Ryker was leaning against the door jamb, watching me with hunger in his eyes. “He can take us in the next twenty minutes if we hurry.”
I smiled, nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me, hero.”
I got out of the way so he could do his morning routine. Walking out into the bedroom again, it was strange to be living out of a suitcase in what was my home no more than a handful of days ago.
I snorted. Rafe had been right. We played musical homes. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him I agreed with him, but he was right.
I pulled the pink dress on over my head. As I was stepping into my panties, I felt the familiar twinge of Shark Week begin. I heaved a sigh.
“That sounded ominous,” Ryker said.
“Shark Week begins again.”
His brows screwed up as I grabbed a tampon from my purse. I was going to have to bum off Tali. I hadn’t even been thinking of my period. Thankfully all of the excitement of recent days had fallen on the non-bloody ones. Well, they’d been bloody. Just not this kind.
I shook my tampon in the air. “I’ll be right back.” I shut the door in his face.
He opened the door. “I do know what periods are, you know.”
I shooed him away. “Allow me some mystery, Mr. Penn. Periods are disgusting. Go away now.”
He laughed and shut the door.
I did what I had to. Washed up. Walking back out into the bedroom, I saw him on his phone.
He looked up. “Ready to go see the house?”
I nodded. “I just need to steal some blood catchers from T.” I scooped up my purse. Looked at him when he remained silent.
“Shark Week. Blood catchers.” He raised his brows. “Girls are weird.”
I shrugged. “It’s better than saying I’m going to be killing children for the next week.” I walked out.
“Willow!”
I laughed. “What? That’s exactly what’s happening. My uterus is shedding its lining –”
He clamped a hand over my mouth, a look of horror on his face. “I do not need a biology lesson.” He shivered. “Gross.”
I snorted. “You think it’s gross? You think it’s gross?!”
His eyes widened as he backed up, his hands in the air. “No. It’s not gross at all. It’s part of the perfection that is your body. It’s a beautiful and mysterious thing. We should just let it keep the mystery. Just like you said earlier.” His words were all but tripping over themselves.
I laughed.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You did that on purpose.”
I shrugged. “Maybe.” I tipped my head to the side, gave him crazy eyes. “Maybe not. You want to go look at the house or not?” I had the sudden craving for chocolate. Lots and lots of it.
“Yeah. Let’s go look at the house. Is Tali home or do you need to break in?”
I laughed. “I know where her secret stash is. I’ll find it.”
**
My tampon supply covered for at least the next few hours, we were on our way to the country. Well, if thirty minutes outside the city can be considered the country. The houses got bigger and farther away from the road the further out we went.
Ryker turned onto the paved driveway, hit the button at the main gate. “I like the security,” he said while he waited for us to be buzzed in.
“Mr. Penn?” a disembodied voice asked.
“Yes. For Scott Briars.”
“Come on up. Just follow the drive under the portico.”
The gates gradually opened. The drive up was gorgeous. But the pictures hadn’t done the house justice. Although, let’s be serious, it was sixteen thousand square feet. I was pretty sure that equated to a mansion in anyone’s vernacular.
“I love it,” I whispered as we drove under the canopy.
“Me too. But keep your cool.” He lifted my hand, kissed it.
We got out of the car. Met at the hood, entwined hands. As a couple, we walked up to the front door. The front double doors that were made of solid wood and brushed iron. A bit out of place with the rest of the décor, but they were intricately made and exquisite in their setting.
“Mr. Penn. Scott Briars. Good to meet you. As I told you on the phone, I really don’t have a lot of time. I can give you the basics and a short run through.”
Ryker nodded. “Show us the master suite, first.”
I coughed to cover my chuckle.
“Yes, sir. Right this way. As you can see the home opens from the foyer into the living area and dining room off to the right there. The master suite is to the left.” Scott led us down a short hallway. A pair of sliding doors were open to showcase an attached study with a set of spiral stairs in the corner. “This leads up to a dedicated craft room or secondary office.” He moved to the double doors. Pushed them open. “Here’s the master suite.”
We stepped through and I felt like I’d lived my entire life here instea
d of seeing it for the first time. Done in rich blues and creamy whites, the room was welcoming and reminded me a bit of a room if my original room and Ryker’s had procreated and popped out a room baby.
The bay windows at the far side of the room allowed light to pour in from the eastern exposure. The walk in closets and separate bathroom were nothing to sneeze at either. I was in heaven.
I looked at Ryker, smiled.
“Could you give us a minute, Scott?”
“Of course, I’ll be in the kitchen. Straight down the hall until you see the spiral staircase. Veer to the left.”
“Great. Thanks.” Ryker shut the door in his face. He turned back to me. “What do you think?”
I shook my head. “No. You first.”
He snorted. “At the same time?”
I smiled.
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
“We’re buying it!” we both said at the same time.
He picked me up in his arms, twirled me around. “I love it. It already feels like home.”
I smacked my mouth to his. “I feel the exact same way. This is our current rooms’ baby.”
His brows furrowed as he tried to navigate my word puzzle. When he got it, he smiled. Nodded. “That’s exactly what it reminds me of, now that you say that.”
He kissed me while we stood in the shaft of morning sunlight in the home we were going to buy. This man wowed me with every turn of life. I couldn’t wait to experience forever.
He put me back on my feet. “Let’s go tell him to take it off the market.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me after him. “Scott?” he said, raising his voice slightly.
“Kitchen.”
Ryker picked up his pace. “We’d like to put in an offer.”
Scott beamed. “Wonderful. I guess I should have taken a better look at that master suite.” We all chuckled. “I’ll get the paperwork started for the official offer. How soon are you wanting to relocate?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Wonderful. I’ll call the owners, see what we can work out. I know they’re motivated to sell, so let’s see if we can make everyone happy as quickly as possible.”
Chapter 35 – Ryker
We stuck our hands out the window and waved goodbye to Scott. I think that had been the fastest negotiation of my life. And we’d walked away with an excellent house under the asking price. Not too bad for a morning’s worth of work.
Now the house just had to live up to it’s in-person and online presence with the inspection and we could move in as soon as the papers cleared. The light renovations we wanted to see could be done while we lived there. I had no problem paying extra for quality work to be done in short order.
I’d have to convince Nik to come out and set up the security system with the company. That would mostly likely be the most time-consuming aspect of the whole thing. Especially getting the full forty acres wired. Well, one of the benefits to having more money than I could safely spend in a lifetime was paying out the nose for high-tech—and low-tech—security.
The debacle at the penthouse had made me see the error of my ways in depending solely on electronics and things that required electrical power. We would need to get some expert opinions on how to make this property harder to infiltrate. I wasn’t willing to have Willow in danger.
I grabbed her hand. “So, how about we go get your ring sized.” I tried to keep the pressure and demand out of my voice. But since asking her to marry me and having to see her carry the box around, her finger still bare, was killing me.
I’d honestly thought to never get married. But now that I was, I wanted everyone to know it. Know that she was mine. That she’d picked me and not anyone else. I wondered if I could buy a floating sign that said RYKER PENN’S. DO NOT TOUCH. And have it flash over her head when any asshole got too close.
She probably wouldn’t go for it, so my next best option was the ring Grams had given me.
“Finally!” she said. “I want it on my finger. Yesterday. I just want to be able to keep my finger.”
I chuckled. “Me, too, cupcake.” I drove us back into town. Even the drive from our most likely new home to the city really wasn’t bad. Very scenic with the rolling hills and lush colors of fall that stretched far and wide.
Eventually, I pulled up at the jeweler’s. I’d called this morning while Scott had been talking to the home owners. The jeweler was expecting us.
I got out of the car, went around to Willow’s side. As she slid from the passenger seat, I took her hand. The aging jeweler was waiting for us at the door. “Mr. Penn, so happy to hear from you,” she said. “Come in, come in.” She waved us in as she backed up. “How’s Alda these days?”
“Still feisty as ever on her good days,” I replied as Willow handed me the ring box. “This is the ring she told you about. We need it resized for my fiancée’s finger.”
The aptly named jeweler, Ms. Opal Goldie, shoved her glasses up her long beak of a nose as she took the box with her gnarled and scarred hands. She opened it. Whistled. “I knew that rascal had a Deco, but I had no idea it was a Cartier.”
I blinked. I hadn’t known it was a Cartier diamond either. Not that it mattered to me a whole lot. Willow loved it, Grams had given it to me. That was all the provenance I needed.
Ms. Goldie turned to Willow. “You’re a lucky lady, missy. Let’s see your heart finger.” She stuck out her hand.
Willow smiled, held out her left hand.
Ms. Goldie slid her own fingers down the length of Willow’s. “I’d say a seven, but we’ll get a tester just to double check. My eyes and touch aren’t what they used to be, cursed time.”
Willow looked up at me, a smile on her face. She waited until the acerbic jeweler left to fetch her ring sizers. “How do you know her? She’s fabulous.”
My lips ticked up. “Grams. She brought me here every time she needed to get one of her broaches cleaned. Said a man needed a jeweler he could trust. Grams never went to anyone else. Mr. Goldie—Opals’ father—opened this shop in the City in the thirties. They moved up here when his health started failing. Opal took over the store when she was eighteen.”
Willow’s eyes widened. “Eighteen and running a jewelry store in the fifties in New York?” She shook her head, awe in her voice.
“That’s right, missy,” Ms. Goldie said as she came back. “Those good for nothing brothers of mine couldn’t be bothered to run it. They ran off to find their millions in the life and zest of the City. And every single one of them came back, humbled and groveling. But Daddy’d given it to me, he had. And they got turned out if they couldn’t earn their keep.”
She snatched up Willow’s hand, shoved a ring down the length of it. She nodded. She cawed like a crow. “I’ve still got it, I tell ya.” She shook her ring sizer at Willow. “You’re a seven. This ring is a five. I can get it sized for you. Are you expecting babies in the near future? What’s your occupation?”
Willow blinked. “I have no idea, and I’m a baker.”
Ms. Goldie nodded as she eyed Willow from tip to toe. “Well, I’d say get started on those babies, if you’re wanting them. I can make the ring just a touch bigger to allow for swelling hands. You could wear a spacer on it until you’re done bringing about new life. Once you’re done, you can bring it back in and I’ll size it back down for you.”
Willow nodded. “That’d be great, thank you, Ms. Goldie.”
Opal nodded. “As for baking, this is a vintage Cartier Art Deco ring. Back in it’s day it was a treasure. It’s even more so now. You wear gloves if you keep this ring on your finger while you’re working. You hearing me, missy?”
Willow nodded. “Yes, Ms. Goldie, I promise.”
Ms. Goldie smiled. “Good girl.” She turned back to me. “Now leave. I’ll call you when it’s done.”
I chuckled as I leaned down, bussed the snappy jeweler’s cheek. “Thank you, Ms. Goldie.”
Her papery cheeks went pink. “
Get on with you, rascal. Out. Out.” She shooed us both out the door.
Willow and I stepped back outside.
“Oh, wait. Mr. Penn, you come back here. I forgot to give you something.”
We turned around.
Ms. Goldie waved us back to her door. “Well come in. These old bones don’t like the cold anymore.”
We stepped back through. Stood there while she rummaged around in a pile of rings.
“Now, I don’t normally do this, but Alda is one of my friends. So here, you take this. As soon as I have your ring ready, we’ll swap them out. A girl can’t be engaged to a man like Mr. Penn and not have something flashy on her finger. It’s just CZ, but at least it will glitter.” She smiled and held up a ring.
My eyes widened when I saw the stone. It looked to be the size of a nickel. And it shot fire around the room as it passed through a shaft of light.
Ms. Goldie handed the ring to me. “Okay, that was it. Leave now.”
With laughter shaking our shoulders, Willow and I went back outside. I got her door opened for her and her snuggled into the interior. I slid the outrageous ring on her left finger before I zipped around and got in. The wind was picking up. It almost felt like we could get some snow.
“To your parents?” I asked softly as I turned the engine over. The heat blazed through the vents.
Willow sighed. “I guess. Might as well get it over with. Lay the groundwork under the idea that we’ll get to skewer them at the gala.”
I grabbed her left hand. Almost gave myself a concussion as I went to kiss her knuckles. “Sweet Pete, that thing is huge.”
Willow snickered. “That’s what she said.” She stuck her hand out as I laughed. Let the simulated diamond sparkle. “Way too big for my hand, but it’s pretty in a gaudy kind of way.”
I snorted. “Just what we want to show your parents. I’m too stupid to know any better and way too loose with my money.”
Willow didn’t laugh. She didn’t even smile. “Honestly, I don’t want them to like you.” Her voice was quiet. “Momma and Papa do. Their opinions on you are the ones I care about.” She shook her head. “Beverly and Winslow’s? They cooed and gushed and sang Ethan’s praises. I finally understand why, but it doesn’t make their choice any better. So no, I don’t want them to like you. You’re as different to Ethan as night to day, and I thank the goddess that you are.”
