Page 112 of Saving Grace
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” she laughed. “Is it yours?”
“Just say the word, babe, and it’ll be ours,” he said.
“Matt …” Grace whispered, her eyes turning suspiciously weepy.
“Looks like you don’t like it,” he teased. “You’re crying.”
That earned him a playful punch on his uninjured side as his wife quickly wiped away the moisture from her eyes.
“Wanna check it out?” He grabbed Grace’s hand and pulled her beside him. “I figured living on top of the garage with all those fumes isn’t a place for a pregnant woman, not to mention raising kids could be precarious in that environment.”
“Kids?” She cast him a dubious sideways glance. “How many are you planning?”
“As many as you’ll give me,” Matt responded without missing a beat.
Grace paused, surveying the architectural details of the house before them. There was a rhythm to the horizontal and vertical planes throughout the stone-and-siding façade. An impressive, sloping overhang roof typical of the style crowned an already impressive structure.
“Let’s go in,” he said.
“Uh, isn’t there supposed to be a realtor?”
“The owner is a friend of mine.”
“Ah,” Grace remarked with a raised brow. “This house looks new.”
“Well it hasn’t been lived in,” Matt said as he unlocked the heavy mahogany door. “I think he had it built two years ago but decided it was too expensive to keep as a weekend getaway home.”
“A weekend home?” Grace asked as they stepped into the foyer. “There must be what? Five bedrooms in this place?”
“Six,” Matt corrected. Grace pulled away from him and he let her go. It was a pleasure to stand back and watch the entranced look on her face as she took in the open interior space, the vaulted ceilings, and the wall of windows that made up the back of the house that led out to the patio.
“Matt, this is beautiful,” she breathed in awe.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, but Grace didn’t hear him as she moved further into the house. He fell back two steps, admiring the sway of her hips. His wife had a great ass after all, and right then, he was already imagining bending her over the kitchen’s center island and fucking her from behind.
“Maaaatt …” Grace’s censuring, teasing tone broke through his lascivious thoughts. Her gleaming eyes told him she knew exactly where the trajectory of his thoughts had been. “Are you even looking at the house?”
“I’ve already seen it,” he smirked. “The current view is more enjoyable.”
Grace rolled her eyes and pivoted around to continue her exploration. After almost forty-five minutes of assessing every nook, cranny, and outside space, she turned to him, barely containing her excitement before an anxious look crossed her face.
“Can we afford this?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip. “I do have a respectable savings account, but I’m not sure—”
“Grace,” he stopped her before she stressed further about money. “What did I tell you from the start? Anything to do with shelter, clothing, and food, I’m paying for it.”
“I never agreed to that,” she replied pertly.
He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “You, Mrs. Foster, have got to let me take care of you. All you have to say is yes to this house.”
“I can see this as our home,” she smiled up at him. “I see our little ones running around. How about you, baby? Can you see this as our home?”
Matt looked around. The house was magnificent, but it was only because he could picture Grace in it. He stared at his wife, losing himself in her gorgeous green eyes.
“Doesn’t matter where we are,” he said softly, lightly pressing a kiss to her lips. “You’re my home, babe.”
*****
Two months later