36. Derek
After I’m off the property, I reach for Chloe’s hand.
“I regret taking you there. I’m sorry if all of that upset you.” I lift her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her knuckles twice, then holding her hand against my cheek.
She rubs her lips together, then her chest falls with a big exhale. She uses her free hand to dash tears away from her cheeks.
“I don’t apologize, Chloe. I don’t feel remorse, typically. But I do right now. I’m sorry that stressed you out. That you felt treated as insignificant.”
“That stressed me out?” she asks.
“You looked at most of the members of my family like they were circus sideshow exhibits. You didn’t eat. You got upset and none of them comforted you.”
She scoffs, looking astounded. “You stress me out. Your family just shocked me because they’re not going to do anything about what you’re doing to me. I can’t wrap my mind around that. And I’ve wanted to run for the exit since I found out you knew about the hall pass.”
She’s holding that against me. That still stands out for her. She takes deceit very personally.
“Clearly your relationship with them is weird. But I’d think they’d care enough to do something.”
“My relationship with my family might not be typical, but today was the most normal family meal I’ve been to in years with them.”
“Huh?”
She looks baffled.
“Let’s forget about all that for now. I’ve been anxious to take you where we’re going for your surprise, so we’ll deal with all that later.”
“What did they say to you?” she asks. “Just now?”
“Jonah told me you seem very upset. As if I’m unable to read that myself. Asked me what I intend to do about it. I told him I’m working on fixing that. Told him why I want you and how I intend to make you fall in love with me.”
She scoffs. “And that satisfied him?”
“Yup. The rest came over to take my pulse on this. I advised that I’m well aware of what I’m doing and that I have the situation in hand. Asher wanted me to know he was just razzing me, that he wasn’t being serious by flirting with you.”
“You have the situation in hand? Meaning?”
“Meaning you’re not about to run to the press or the authorities about me. That you’re about to become my wife and that I know you’ll come around.”
“And they’re… they’re okay with that ridiculous idea? All they care about is that I don’t go to the press?”
“It’s not ridiculous. Is it ridiculous to want to spend my life with you? Making you happy?”
She stares at me instead of answering.
“My father doesn’t want bad press, Chloe. He also doesn’t want anything to upset my mother. Those are his priorities. He’s still steamed that people are talking about Thad. He wants Steele family business kept within the family and Thad is the primary reason anyone has anything to say about us. He also wanted to remind me that Steeles don’t divorce. As if I could forget.”
“What happens if they do?” I ask.
“They just don’t.”
“Yet he felt the need to remind you of this fact?”
“He has that conversation with anyone starting to look like they’re getting serious about somebody. My father drilled into us from a young age that if we wanted to let someone into the family circle, give them the Steele name and access to the family behind closed doors, we had to be sure they’d never want out. Too much happening to have a pile of exes out there, outside the damage control perimeter that’s carefully managed by his team. He wanted to make sure I know that if I do this with you, it’s a lifetime commitment, so I advised I’m fully prepared for that.”
“Wow,” she whispers incredulously.
“He drilled it into us to only bring in people we trust enough to become permanent family fixtures. Someone willing to make lifelong commitment. You’re not the only person planning to tie the knot just once. We were all raised to take marriage as seriously as a blood oath.”
“Not for true love and for better or for worse, to avoid bad press and pissing off your father?”
I shake my head. “You’re not a whim to me. I’m 100% serious. I’ve been telling you that. My father is putting pressure on Eli to fix the problems in his marriage, too.”
“But left your other brother to his own devices so each of his wives were found dead? Because he wasn’t allowed to get a divorce? Because he was worried about getting written out of your father’s will?”
“Possibly. Most don’t think he killed both of them. Just the second one. First one died in an accident and Thad was devastated. Anyway… I’m not my brother.”
“Who killed your brother? Was it someone in your family?”
I shake my head. “Some of us might not have shed any tears over the loss of Thaddeus, but we wouldn’t gun down a Steele family member. It was a guy who was obsessed with a girl who had him in the friend zone. Jonah’s ex-girlfriend, long story, but the shooter shot Thad and Jonah. Jonah survived.”
“I couldn’t find much about it in the papers,” she says.
“Because my father doesn’t like getting press he can’t control or edit before it goes to print. Shit got out before he could control it or none of it would’ve been publicized.”
She’s silent for a few minutes, then she says, “What would happen to me if I did go to the press?”
“You won’t go to the press, Chloe. You know better.”
“Derek, I wanna be real with you.”
“Haven’t you been real all along?” I ask.
“Yes… but, I mean, I want you to take what I’m saying seriously.”
“I take everything you say seriously. Say what you wanna say.”
“I really think you need some help. I’m not being funny here. Some real help.”
She waits for my reaction. When she doesn’t get one, she continues. “How about this? If you agree to sign yourself in and get a psychiatric evaluation, I’ll agree to go on a date with you after you’ve had some counseling. Maybe we can-”
“Nice try, but been there, done that and it’s why I am who I am today.”
“Meaning?”
“You wanna delve deep into me? Figure me out? You can have that, all of it, when you’re in this relationship with me and we’re in a safe place. Until then, I’d rather not open that vault.”
She’s frowning.
I continue, “But I believe you when you say you think I need help. What will help me is achieving my goal with you. It’s you and me, baby.” I kiss her hand again.
She snatches it away and folds her arms across her chest. “If you think I’m marrying you, you’re in for a rude awakening.”
“If you aren’t my good girl, Chloe, you’re in for some sad realizations.”
“And what are those?” she snaps.
“The realization that I’m not paying lip service here. I get what I want. I want you. And while I don’t want to upset you or make you sad, I’ll do whatever I need to do to make my point crystal clear to you. I’ve gone easy on you the past few days giving you a chance to acclimate, but believe this. You will marry me. You won’t divorce me. I’ll work at this as long as I need to in order to get to my end goal.”
“So, you’re continuing to threaten me?”
I sigh.
“What’s the threat exactly, Derek? What are you threatening to do? You make a lot of threats. A lot of undefined ones. I don’t actually know what’s at stake right now.”
“Right now, I want to focus on your surprise. I’m so excited about your surprise, I might let you away with the stunt you pulled with my family. But believe me, you don’t want to test me by speaking to anyone outside my family with your ‘he needs help’ plea.”
She lets out a long sigh and rubs her eyes. “Where are you taking me right now?”
“If I revealed that, it would ruin the surprise.”
“I don’t want it. And you’re deflecting.”
“Yeah, Chloe. You do want this surprise. We’ll be there in less than half an hour.”
She stares out the window. Sulking.
I stop my SUV and look at my girl who’s staring straight ahead through the gates. She hasn’t said a word in thirty minutes. She’s been pissed off. Fidgety. Huffing.
Now, she’s altogether different. She’s wide-eyed. Confused.
The house sits far beyond the tall, black gates with a long, black asphalt driveway that cuts through the lush lawn with perfect diagonal lawnmower marks. Built in 1927, the gray stone-wrapped house with four front dormers and a new gray shingled roof has a wide front porch supported by several fieldstone- covered pillars. The porch wraps around the house on the left side, going back to the large yard. I know from the photos it wraps all the way around the back of the house, stopping just before the extension that makes up a garage and further living space done in white wood siding. That extension was put on in the late seventies, consisting of living space plus a three-car garage. It’s got a tall widow’s walk directly behind the garages where the extension goes from utility space to more living space.
Mature trees dot the large front lawn, and the back yard is treed too, including several fruit trees and a big, old oak with a massive two-storey treehouse in it, a ladder leading up and a curved slide leading down into a sandbox. I’m guessing that’s why the widow’s walk was put in – direct view to the treehouse and kids playing in it.
“Wh-what are we doing here?” she asks.
“You had this house bookmarked on your web browser,” I unnecessarily advise.
“I know that,” she says, frowning.
“You also sent it to Hallman. To Alannah and your friend Coraline.”
“I’m aware.”
“You also pinned it on that what do you call… décor site.”
She looks from the house to me with a perplexed expression. “You even crawled my Pinterest profile?”
I smile.
“What are we doing here, Derek?”
“I bought it,” I tell her. “For us.” I grab her face and press my lips to hers.
When I move back and take in her face, she’s utterly still and for a change, I don’t think I can read her expression.
I explain, “That first time we talked in the donut shop, you talked about the kind of house you’d like to live in. You made it clear the house you were currently living in wasn’t what you wanted. I saw this place on your link list, in your search history many times as well as your sent emails, so obviously it was of significance to you. I looked into it and saw the previous owner took it off the market after four months. He bought it planning a family, bought a ring and proposed. The girl said no. So he was trying to sell it. I made an offer.” I shrug.
She stares ahead at the house.
“You visited the real estate listing forty-six times,” I add.
She flinches, then whispers, “You bought it. It’s yours?”
“It’s ours, Chloe. It’s my wedding gift to you.”
Frown lines mar her forehead.
“Neighbors aren’t too close. I looked into them and on one side is an elderly couple with no kids who are adopted as grandparents by their church congregation and other families on the street. The neighbors on the other side are young professionals in their late twenties. Looking at her socials just quick, she’s about four or five months pregnant. I think she could be someone you’d like. She loves taking food pictures and has similar taste in food as you. We could wind up with kids who get to grow up playing together on this… a safe street that’s just a twenty-minute drive to the business district. Good preschool in walking distance. There are amenities within a two-minute drive. It made sense. But even if it wasn’t practical, which it is, I bought it because you love it.”
When I looked at the old listing, it helped paint a picture of who Chloe is. Family spaces. Big kitchen. Playground equipment outside. Big, wraparound porch to entertain on. To watch your kids play in the yard or treehouse, on the front lawn, riding bikes on the big driveway safely behind gates where people can’t get to them. It’s not so big you need live-in staff who might be plotting with people to steal from you, take your kids for ransom.
It’s been recently updated, too. I don’t care that it’s not a house my mother would choose. It’s a house my mother would call cute and adorable while dropping hints about other real estate listings more befitting someone of our family’s status.
This is what my girl wanted, but didn’t get when Adam Hallman lost the use of his legs. It’s obvious they couldn’t have bought it; it was more than triple the cost of the rowhouse she lived in with him and the mortgage would’ve been too high on their salaries. But it’s the home she described in the donut shop that day with light in her eyes and a smile on her face.
I unclip my seatbelt.
“What are you doing?” she asks, looking panicked.
“Gonna open the gate so we can go inside. I have the code for the gate and the remotes are supposed to be on the kitchen counter. I’ll upgrade it soon so we can just use an app.”
“No. No.” She seems panicked. “I’m not going in there. You did not buy that for me, Derek.”
“I did. It was vacated yesterday, re-keyed already. New keys were dropped at my office. Grabbed them when I picked up that file you wanted. Here.” I reach into my blazer pocket and hand the keys to her. “I had our clothes and groceries brought over this morning while we were at my parents. Had it cleaned. We’re moving in.”
She shakes her head, staring at the keys in her hand.
“Chloe, what’s wrong?” I ask, caressing her face.
She shrinks away. “Derek, you can’t buy my acquiescence here.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. I bought you the house you should have because it’s the house you want. I don’t expect you to throw yourself at me. I know you better than that.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t know me.”
“Yes, I do,” I state. “I know you better than you think I know you. I also know that when you decide to stop fighting this, you’ll be happy that we’re living here in the house you wanted. That this is where we’ll raise our kids.”
Her body jerks hard like I’ve delivered a physical blow.
Her mouth is open as she looks at me like I’m absolutely batshit crazy.
“It’s old, but it’s well-made and well-maintained. Updated everything, too, so no major work to be done. The house four houses over that way…” I point, “Has three teenage girls. Babysitters, baby, for when we want date night. Let’s go in.”
She stares at it looking like she’s about to burst into tears. I watch a swallow work down her throat.
I get out, key in the gate code and open it before getting back in and driving through, stopping so I can close and lock it behind us.
She’s got her cheeks puffed out like she’s holding her breath as I park.
“I wanna see inside, see what we might like to change, then I think I’ll run you a bath in that giant tub in the master with the window overlooking that big yard and all those fruit trees out back and… then what? I’m gonna want to make love to you first in our home, so I’ll temporarily backburner that bad girl punishment. Don’t worry, you’ll still get it. Maybe tomorrow.”
She doesn’t answer. Just stares.
I add, “I had him leave just about everything. He took his clothes and a few personal and sentimental things, and left with the fat check I gave him. But anything you don’t want that’s here, we’ll replace. I had a new mattress and bedding delivered this morning too. Not fucking you or sleeping beside you on a used mattress.”
“Fat check?”
“A hundred k over asking to get him to leave immediately. He jumped at it.”
“I wouldn’t,” she says, looking at the place like she’s yearning to step foot inside and never leave.
“No, that’s true.”
“What if he didn’t want to sell?” she asks, “What would you have done?”
“Thankfully, money was enough of a motivator I didn’t have to get more creative.” I flash her a grin.
I know it’s laced with threats. And as soon as I’ve done it, I wish I could snatch it back, which is an odd sensation. Threats have gotten me to where I am with Chloe, but since she came home with me Friday night, I’ve found myself trying to find ways to not threaten her so she’ll see what things can be like for us.
I don’t like the crushing sensation in my chest right now as she stares at her dream house looking sad.
I cup her jaw, tilting it so she’s looking at me again.
“I wasn’t expecting you to instantly fall for me because I bought this house for you. Actually, everything I do is so you’ll fall for me, but I know it’s not money or material things that will do the trick. You’ve got so much more substance than that. It’s the effort I’m willing to put in to show you how much you matter, how much I see you. How much I yearn to be the one you reach for that’ll do it, Chloe. And that’s not a trick.”
Her pretty blue eyes search my face as her teeth skim her bottom lip.
“Chloe, this is what I want. A life with you is what I want.”
“What if… right now… I decided to go for it? Be in this with you? Then what?”
A smile spreads wide enough on my face it feels like my skin is stretching. There are big emotions happening in my chest, too. But although the look on her face shows me it’s just a hypothetical question, I let the smile happen fully, let myself feel what that would feel like so she can see how much it would mean to me.
It feels like warm sun isn’t just on my face but also filling me. Warm sunshine with not a care in the world. If this girl starts to really love me, I can almost believe my heart will split out of the dark shroud it lives in and shine bright enough light will spew out of my chest.
“Then what if you get focused on a new goal, Derek? See a new unhappy damsel in distress who fascinates you? Or what if something else becomes your goal like work or some noble cause and I just get forgotten. But Steeles don’t divorce so I’m either left in a miserable situation with someone who doesn’t give a shit about me anymore or you have to get rid of me because I’m a problem you don’t want to deal and can’t divorce me because your father would disown you?”
“Is the promise of what I’m showing you so absolutely perfect that you can’t take a chance in case it isn’t real?” I ask.
She frowns but doesn’t answer.
“I wouldn’t stay married to you because it’s my father’s rule. Believe me, when I say that. I would stay with you because I believe in the sanctity of marriage, too. I’ve seen my folks fight to stay together through some fucked up times. As fucked as my family life was in a lot of ways, I grew up with parents who refused to give up on one another. That’s what marriage is. Right?”
She winces.
I continue. “You took a chance on Hallman based on what you saw, what you thought your life might be like after spending time with him. It didn’t work out the way you wanted, obviously.”
I wait. She has no reply, so I squeeze her knee. “Circumstances along with his personality let you down. Should you not ever have ventured into it? Should you not venture into anything, ever, in case it might go wrong? That’s not you, is it?”
“Should I venture into madness with you instead? Is that what you’re suggesting?” she fires back.
“Why not?” I shrug. “It’s not like you have a choice since I’m so relentless. Why not try madness on for size and see how it fits? Come on, Chloe, let’s go see our house. I haven’t been inside it yet. I wanted to do this with you.”
She hard-blinks. “You bought a house you’d never stepped foot inside of for a hundred grand over the asking price because I bookmarked it?”
“And visited it online forty-six times. How many times you drive by?”
“Twice,” she whispers, staring at the house.
“You stopped dreaming for yourself when Hallman’s accident changed everything. It’s time to start dreaming again, beautiful. But you don’t have to just dream about this. It’s yours. Come on in and see it.”
She doesn’t move.
“Come on, baby. Let’s go fuck inside our new house.”
I get out of the SUV and round it, then open her door and click her seatbelt undone.
“Derek, I…” She lets that hang.
I lift her into my arms.
“I can walk,” she says, irritated.
“You’re getting carried over that threshold.”
“No. I don’t want to go in there,” she protests.
“Why?” I ask.
Her eyes are brimming with tears. She looks away from me, chewing her lip.
“What is it?” I ask.
She dashes tears from her eyes, still holding the keys.
“You gonna clue me in?” I ask after a long beat of silence.
“I can’t clue you in. I can’t make sense of anything right now, especially you. You’ve swept my life up into a tornado.”
“To fix it,” I tell her, setting her down.
“And I … I feel like I’m having a nervous breakdown.”
“Because you’re thinking of trying this with me? Go ahead. Have a breakdown. I’m right here to look after you.”
She shakes her head.
“Not now? Okay, have it later. Come on in, then.” I tug on her hand. “Come walk around and then I’ll run you a bath. I bet you’ve dreamt of using that big tub in the master while staring out at all the trees through that big picture window, huh? Thought you’d never see it outside of photographs, right? Let’s go.”
She follows, not pulling her hand out of mine.
When we get to the door, I lift her up into my arms again.
“Derek,” she grumbles.
“Hearing you say my name always gives me a little thrill, Chloe. Even if you say it like that.” I press my lips to her jaw and take the keys from her.
As I unlock the door, she pulls in a breath and holds it while being carried over the threshold.
I crave her throwing her arms around me and squealing. I crave a smile, happiness from her. I’m so looking forward to when her feelings for me are on the surface. But it feels like something is brewing. Simmering. Maybe.
To the left is a living room and to the right is the dining room. A staircase sits straight ahead but doesn’t take up the full space. You can walk up a few steps to a landing where the stairs continue up right or walk past the staircase to get deeper into the house, where I remember from the online brochure is a powder room, laundry room, and the kitchen, which opens up into the massive family room and a covered part of the back porch.
The formal living and dining rooms both have fires burning in their fireplaces per my instructions. Furnishings are okay. It all looks new. The former owner furnished the place but was barely here.
We walk past the stairs, down the hall and stop in the kitchen that looks out to the sundrenched family room extension, a rounded space with soaring ceilings overlooking the back yard through the two-story back wall of mostly windows and fireplace. Past that would be lush greenery if not for the fact that we’re at the tail end of autumn and winter is imminent. There should also be a fire roaring in the fireplaces upstairs per the directions I left. I wanted lit fires in all of the fireplaces for us as well as to make the place smell like lemons, which it does. Chloe used lemon cleaner, lemon dish soap, even lemon hand soap when I watched her in that rowhouse on camera, so I want it to feel like home.
“Whoever designed this certainly loved fireplaces,” I remark.
“That’s one of the reasons I loved it,” she says hoarsely, looking emotional.
I set her on the counter beside a waiting bucket of chilled champagne and a dozen red roses in a crystal vase.
“Please, God, not another mimosa,” she mumbles, staring at the counter with horror.
I laugh and she half smiles, but it slips as soon as our eyes connect. I pass her the card from the rose bouquet.
Welcome home, baby.
Love, Derek.
She sets it down, nibbling on her bottom lip.
The kitchen is recently upgraded with cream cabinetry, white and cream marble counters, and beige and cream marbled flooring. There are pops of color with the flowers, with a few red countertop appliances, and gold and brass accented wall décor like a clock, weather station, and memo board meant for busy families. The kitchen island faces the family room.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, following her eyes which seem to be focused on the windows. “I see why you loved it so much.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“How about we tour the upstairs?” I ask, my voice dropping as I drop a soft kiss on her neck.
She shivers.
Fuck, I want this. I want to jump ahead to where she’s in this with me. She’s afraid I’ll get bored when the game is over? Not a chance. I’m so fucking ready to have her in love with me. To see her look at me with love, with lust, with something other than fear, frustration, and confusion. She’s worth the wait. The effort. I don’t believe for a minute that I’ll lose interest. I want this woman running for me when she sees me, dying to connect with me. I want it all with her.
I lift her up and move toward the staircase on the other side of the kitchen.
“You don’t have to carry me up there,” she mumbles.
“Yes I do, maybe I’ll never let your feet touch the ground again,” I warn with a grin. “Carry you from place to place?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Tie you to the bed when I can’t carry you around,” I add.
She chews her cheek and drops her gaze.
I laugh darkly.
The upstairs has four bedrooms and three bathrooms along with a home office that’s lined with bookshelves and yet another fireplace.
I see her eyes light up at the bookshelves, which are empty but for one book. The book I purchased for her.
She eyeballs the book and then looks at the floor again.
Okay, no comment on that then.
“What do you think of the color in here?” I ask once we’re in the master bathroom. I’ve set her on one of the two vanities. I look around, face likely betraying how I feel about the shade of green these walls are painted.
“It’s hideous,” she announces.
“Thank fuck. I was worried I’d have to live with this the rest of my life because you were in love with it.”
Her eyes work over my face actively. “You’d put up with it if I liked it when you hate it?”
“No,” I tell her honestly.
Her forehead crinkles with confusion.
I lean in and put both hands on her thighs and squeeze.
“Once you finish falling in love with me, you’ll paint it to save me from the ongoing headache.” I touch my lips to hers and back up.
“What if I did love it?”
“Then I’d have kept my mouth shut for the moment. Maybe drop some hints about a compromise. Paint your home office that color and only go in there with these shades on.” I gesture to the shades tucked into my shirt. “So, bunny, what’s the verdict? Do you love your house as much in person as you did in pictures?”