Page 121 of Legally Ours

In response, he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and pressed them into my hand. "Happy birthday, Red."

I took the keys numbly, staring at them for a moment before I took a shaky step toward the house. "But––how––what did you––how did you––"

Behind me, Brandon chuckled. "After you sent the listing to Margie, I told her to expedite the sale. I went to see the house that week and signed the papers. In both our names, Red. Craig and Lucas set up security in one of the back houses. We're good to go." He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around me, setting his chin on my shoulder so that we could look at the house together. "Welcome home, baby."

I hadn't really known until that moment just how much I had been truly craving a home of our own. Maybe it was the chaos of the last several months. Maybe it was the fact that my family had been uprooted from the house of my childhood. Maybe it was the trauma of being kidnapped from my own abode, but I badly needed a safe haven like this. Looking at the house that I had known in my soul was supposed to be ours from the second I'd seen it, holding the keys in my hand––some piece of my heart I hadn't known was gone clicked back into place.

I turned around and launched myself at Brandon. If it was possible, I adored him even more than I already had. Of all the things he could have done to show that he loved me, this topped them all.

"I love it!" I squealed as he whirled me around in a circle.

His laughter bounced around the driveway and into the trees. The whole property was filled with our joy.

"Come on, Red," he said after he set me down. His eyes shined with unfiltered adoration, and he took my hand. "Let's give ourselves the grand tour."

I grinned and nodded, but before I could take a step, I was swept off my feet, princess-style, and carried up the steps of the porch. I whooped in surprise, clutching Brandon's neck.

"I know that technically we're supposed to wait until we're actually married to do this," Brandon said as he squatted down for the doorknob. The door fell open, casting a stream of warm light over us. "But I didn't want to wait to carry you across our threshold."

I pressed my forehead to his. I was too happy to speak. He stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind him, and it was only then that he set me down. Hand in hand, we walked around the house, where I saw my furniture set up in a few different places. The rest of the place was decorated with other unfamiliar pieces.

"Margie found a designer to help," Brandon said anxiously as he followed me through the living room and into the kitchen. "If you don't like anything she picked, we'll change it. I just know you're not really much for decorating..."

I drifted my free hand over the top of a sage green sofa sitting in the atrium. Just like everything Brandon owned (that apparently I would own, I realized with a little discomfort, but nothing like I had six months ago), it was exquisite. But as I looked around the house, taking in the blend of modern and comfortable, the dark wood pieces, the warm lighting, that discomfort faded quickly. Everything had its place. Everything felt like it belonged in my life, and in his. Even the fireplace in the living room, which I saw through the hall was already lit.

I looked back at Brandon, unable to keep the silly grin off my face. "I love it. I love everything."

Brandon's face-splitting grin was immediate. Who needed lighting if I could make him smile like that?

"I can't believe you did this," I kept saying as I continued to look around. "I can't believe you...the dress, the shoes, this house..."

I trailed off as my eyes found him again. We stared at each other, and the air crackled.

And then it was like our interlude in the car hadn't happened. I couldn't think of anything other than being close to him. Suddenly, I was in a frenzy, kicking off my shoes, and reaching behind to unzip my dress, which I barely had the presence of mind to lay on the counter so it wouldn't become a wrinkled mess. It wasn't until I was in the process of shimmying out of my underwear that Brandon, caught in a trance, finally seemed to realize what I was doing. Then he sprang into action, ripping at his tie and hurling his jacket on top of my dress.

Once my clothes were off, I couldn't wait for him anymore. Brandon was shirtless, pants still on but unbuttoned when I hurled myself into his arms. He caught me easily, and our lips crashed together as we toppled backward onto the sofa under the glass panes of our new atrium, through which the stars glowed above.

"Off," I muttered as I tore at his pants under my legs. "I need you."

Obediently, he lifted his hips and pulled off his tuxedo pants, which I was able to toss over the matching ottoman before I straddled his naked body.

It was easy sometimes to forget what a work of art he really was. The last few months of stress and over exercising had turned his already lean, muscle-bound body into something that looked like it should be on the cover of Sports Illustrated, not in my new kitchen. He sighed contentedly as I played my fingers over the ridges of muscle, feeling the way each hard edge resisted slightly against my fingertips. Finally, my hands drifted all the way down, and I took him in a solid grip.

His sharp intake of breath revealed that he was more than ready to get on with business, but, as if he understood that I wanted to take control right now, Brandon remained still, staring up at me with wide, fathomless eyes. Our eyes locked. I couldn't have said how long we stayed there like that: him lying back, me sitting on his hips, my hands wrapped around his solid length. It wasn't until my thumb drifted involuntarily up and down him, that he stirred under me.

"I just..." My words faded, as I was still caught up in the moment. My thumb continued to play as I closed my eyes languorously. "Sometimes with you, I feel like I'm caught in a dream. And I never want to wake up."

Brandon watched me intensely, his jaw clenched, insistent desire etched over his strong features. His hands slid over my shoulders, and gently, he pulled me down so that my forehead rested on his.

"Baby," he whispered as we lay there, forehead to forehead, caught in our own cocoon of love. "It's been a dream since I met you. The only dream I ever want to have."

"Even the bad parts?" I wondered as my heart caught in my chest.

Brandon's hands slid down my back as he urged me closer. He caught my mouth and sucked delicately on my lower lip.

"All of it," he said. "Every single moment."

My breath caught in my chest at his tender words.