He nodded, looking determined but a little afraid of my answer.
I got off his lap and walked around the bedroom once more. There were at least a hundred reasons why this was maybe not the best idea. I peered out the big window once more, looking down onto the old rosebushes in the brush. I bet this was beautiful in the spring.
I leaned on the windowsill, seeing the last of the afternoon sun leave the city across the bay. The windowsills were deep, exactly the right size for a very particular cat to doze in. I turned to Simon, now standing in the doorway with the most hopeful look ever.
Did I want this?
Is this what it was like, being grown up? Making big decisions, and then moving into a new phase of your life? Wasn’t this too fast, too impulsive, too . . .
I did want this. And I wanted it with Simon. I nodded yes, and he grinned, laughed, then kissed me stupid.
Three hours later, he’d made an offer. It was accepted.
Grown-ups, right?
• • •
“Are we rushing into this?”
“No, we’ve been at this quite a while. It’s called foreplay, Caroline,” Simon murmured, south of my navel.
“I’m familiar with the concept,” I replied, tightening my legs around his midsection and lifting up onto my elbows to peer down at him. “Not talking about the foreplay, although it’s good.”
“Good? Just good?” He crawled up my body, kissing it all the while. I shivered. “I was giving you some of my best stuff down there.”
“Did I say good? I meant fantastic. Phenomenal.” I kissed him square on the lips. “Out of this world.”
“That’s better. Now, what’s this about rushing things?” He used my left breast as a pillow as his fingertips traced lightly over the right.
“With the house. Are we rushing into this?” I asked, running my hands through his hair and making it stand straight up. I twisted it this way and that, making Mohawks and no hawks, bowl cuts and bangs. I worried his hair around every finger, feeling the silky strands as he kissed my cleavage.
“You’re still thinking about this?” he asked, sighing. “If I thought it was too soon, I wouldn’t have made an offer.” The barest hint of tongue now wet the tip of my breast. “If I thought it was too soon, I wouldn’t have told the Realtor that I wanted that house no matter what was wrong with it.”
His hips bumped mine, slipping between my legs, which automatically cradled him. I could feel him, hard and wanting and insistent. “If I thought it was too soon, I wouldn’t be giving you an obscene design budget to turn that house into our home,” he whispered, his voice husky and thick. And speaking of thick . . .
He nudged inside, just barely. “Heated floors, Caroline.” My back arched. “Marble countertops.” My legs fell open wide.
“Carrara?”
“I don’t know what that means, babe,” he said, panting, now hovering over my body. He rested his full weight on one hand, letting the other dip down below to begin drawing those perfect circles, exactly where he knew would send me flying.
“It’s a kind of marble that—mmm. . . .” I moaned, my head falling back onto the pillow as he slid inside me entirely.
“Anything. You can have anything you want. Don’t you know that?” He groaned, scooping under my back and pulling me closer into him, tilting my hips so that each thrust hit me right smack dab on the Carrara. “I just need you.” His eyes burned into mine, stormy and full of want. “You—I need you,” he repeated, thrusting deeply, stringing me out right on the edge.
It was those eyes that pushed me over that edge. And when he followed, it was epic. We lay together, tangled and out of breath. Holding him closely, I whispered in his ear how much I loved him, and how great this house, this home, would be.
I only hoped I could make it what he needed.
chapter seventeen
The next morning, I got an e-mail from Jillian. They were coming home in three weeks.
And in those weeks, my entire world turned upside down. I’d been running things for months now, and I’d pretty much gotten the swing of things. But not these last two weeks. No, sir. It was like the design gods all gathered, rubbed their hands together, and said, “Let’s see how we can fuck up Caroline Reynolds.”
And in case you’re wondering, there are in fact design gods. And in case you’re wondering, yes, they’re fabulous.
The new job I’d agreed to take on in Sausalito was initially supposed to be a kitchen remodel. Which turned into a living room remodel. Which turned into “Couldn’t we maybe add French doors out to the patio?” and “I think we could use a new patio, don’t you?” and “I saw something called a pergola on HGTV the other night; could we put one of those over the patio?” This was all very good for the pocketbook, but it was way more work than I had planned on. We revised the timeline, revised the hell out of the budget, and I began work on the almost total renovation that this project now required.