Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
I wink at her. “Only when I mean it.” I’m rewarded when her response is to cackle so loud that the happy sound fills the house.
We move to the kitchen that has a massive island, all open to a huge family room. There’s a formal dining area off to the side, open but defined. I can already see Christmas dinner here — Georgia’s laugh, Nana’s stories, my brothers from the club, and mine and Georgia’s kids. It will be chaos, but the best kind imaginable.
Off the kitchen there’s a walk-in pantry and another door leads into a huge utility room. The washer and dryer are tucked in with rows of built-in storage. There’s a side door with a walkway that is all windows that connects to a garage so big you could host a car show in it.
Georgia runs her fingers across the counter, her eyes soft.
“Baby,” she says quietly. “This place looks so expensive. And there’s all that land out back too…”
I grin. “Sweetheart, your old man’s got bank. I’ve been putting back most of my pay for years. Plus, now that the garage at the club’s taking off, business is good. We don’t have to worry about money. This isn’t just a house. This is our forever home. It needs to be perfect.”
Her eyes glisten, and before I know it, she’s hugging me tight. “I love you,” she whispers against my chest.
I press a kiss to her hair. “I love you too, baby.”
The realtor takes us into an office, then the den. There’s a door at the back of the house that opens into a sunroom. It’s all glass and light, that catch the stars at night. “I thought this would be perfect for your studio, baby,” I tell her.
She just stands, looking around, silent with a hand over her mouth.
“You could paint here and see the stars while you work.”
She turns to me with tears in her eyes again. “It’s perfect.”
When we circle back to what will be Nana’s suite, she’s grinning like she already owns it. The room’s got its own fireplace, a cozy sitting area with a little bar — sink, coffee maker, even a mini fridge. The bathroom attached is almost as impressive as the one Georgia and I will have.
“Okay, Nana. Let me have it. What do you think?” I ask, a little nervous. If she doesn’t like it, then it’s out. I’m not sure there’s another house of this caliber close to the club. That will mean I may have to just buy property and build a home. I’m okay with that, but it’s going to take much longer than I want to get settled.
“This is it,” she says, eyes shining. “This is our forever home. Everything we’ve seen is perfect. Plus, there’s a pool out back! I can have pool parties and invite that sexy Candyman over. If lady luck is shining on me, I might even talk him into skinny-dipping.”
“Nana!” Georgia gasps, laughing.
“What? I’m old, darlin’, not dead.”
I can’t help it — I’m laughing loudly. “You’re perfect, Nana. So, we’ve decided then?” I question, looking between my two favorite women.
Georgia and Nana look at one another, then nod in unison. That’s it for me. It’s a done deal.
I turn to the realtor. “Get the paperwork started. Don’t let anyone else get it.”
“I’ll have my assistant get the paperwork started now and I’ll call them with the offer, too,” she says, already pulling out her phone as she steps outside to call.
Once she leaves, Nana stretches out on what will be her bed, sighing happily. “Can we stay tonight?”
Georgia chuckles. “I don’t think it works that way, Nana.”
“Fiddlesticks,” she huffs.
I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Don’t forget, you’ve got another poker lesson at the club tonight,” I remind her.
Her grin turns sly. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten. If your boys keep losing their money to me the way they have been, I’ll be able to pay the down payment on this pretty little house myself, Griffy.”
She pats her hair and says, “I’m going to look at the kitchen again.” She wanders off humming, happy as a lark.
I step close to Georgia, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “You happy, baby?”
She nods, voice trembling. “So happy I’m scared it’s a dream. I’m worried I’ll wake up and you won’t be real.”
I tilt her chin up until our eyes meet. “Oh, I’m real, sweetheart. I’m right here. And I’m never leaving.”
She kisses me then—soft, deep, full of everything we’ve built together. Standing here in this big, beautiful barn-dominium, I recognize that this isn’t just a house.
It’s a new beginning. Georgia is my home. She’s part of my soul.
EPILOGUE
GEORGIA
It’s been two months since we bought the house, and every single morning still feels like I’m waking up in a dream. Nana calls it her “forever place.” She says the porch swing creaks just right, and the kitchen windows let in the kind of light that makes biscuits rise better. I love it too—so much that most days I don’t want to leave.