“Just wait.” I hesitated. “I wanted to get everything set up first . . .”
“Callaway, if you don’t let me inside that house, I’m going to go crazy!”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Sexy crazy?”
“No! Nervous breakdown crazy!”
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?”
I tried to kiss her again but she just laughed and shook her head at me. I loved making this woman laugh. I kissed her hard and fast before she could protest and then stepped aside. She looked at me, her eyes shining, and I nodded.
“Go on.”
She squealed as I scooped her up and carried her through the door.
Everything got really quiet as we stepped over the threshold. Almost like the whole world knew this was an important moment. I swear to God, not even a single bird chirped. I set her down slowly and she did a slow circle.
“Oh, Callaway.”
Her breathy sigh of pleasure sounded so close to the way she sounded right before she came. My balls felt heavy as cannonballs. I gulped, realizing me and my hard-on were going to have to wait. A long, long time.
Our house was full of people and the truck was only halfway unloaded. But the moment it was, I was going to have to shoo everyone away so we could ‘christen’ the house.
Every damn room of it.
Maybe some of them twice.
She turned in a circle then glanced at me. It hit me like a gut punch, the warmth spreading out from my belly. She loved it. I could tell from the look in her eyes.
“Do you like it?”
She squealed and threw herself at me. Her arms wrapped around me and I lifted her off her feet again. It was so easy to hold her up. She was so little and I was over six feet tall. I’d started calling her my little doll, which earned me an eyeroll.
She was though. She was my living, breathing doll. Perfect and sweet and all mine.
Whooping and hollering made us break the kiss. Our friends were laughing and applauding. Even Jack. I grinned as Lucky shouted, “Get a room!” with more than a hint of jealousy.
Molly’s cheeks were red. I loved how shy she still was, even after all the filthy things I did to her on a daily basis. It was too cute. She squeezed my hand.
“Show me the rest.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Molly
He’d done it. He’d really done it. This was beyond anything I’d ever expected. Anything I’d ever dreamed of.
And it was all for us to start our life together. But the details . . . the tiny little things I’d chosen . . . he’d done that for me.
Callaway had truly created my dream house.
Everywhere I looked, there were hints of things I’d picked out. Janet and the girls had tricked me into finding things I’d liked, spending hours with me picking things out for ‘inspiration.’ They must have shown him, the little sneaks.
I would never ever in a million years have asked for all of this. For any of it, really.
There are two window seats. Two!
There was one in the master bedroom, with built-in bookshelves and cabinets on either side. There was a larger window seat in the front room, which would be cozily warmed by the radiator underneath in the cooler months. Sally had made the cushions for both. All those years touring in sparkly custom-made costumes had made her good with a needle and thread.
I ran my hand over the cotton cushion that covered the bench in front of the bay window. It was the perfect spot to sit and make a phone call or read a book. You could watch people go by and see the roses grow up the low white picket fence that enclosed the front yard.
Callaway had planted roses. For me.
I sighed dreamily, hugging myself with my arms. We’d been unpacking for hours. The last of our friends had just left. Tommy would arrive tomorrow. There were still loads of boxes to unpack, but not that many. It wasn’t like I had that much stuff. Callaway had kept lots of stuff from his grandmother’s house in storage, so that was here, but he wasn’t exactly a packrat. It was mostly kitchen stuff and blankets, along with some cool-looking mid-century stuff that he had, or planned to, refinish. Clean clothes were folded neatly in the drawers and hung in the closets, and pillows and fresh linens were on the beds. Other things had yet to find their place, but the basics were done.
This was it. I was finally home. For the first time since the accident that ripped my family apart, I had a home.
“Hey, you.”
Callaway’s arms slipped around me from behind.
“Hey, you,” I answered, leaning back against him. His scent enveloped me. He smelled faintly of good clean sweat and leather. The man didn’t ever have BO, as far as I could tell.