Chapter 37
A s planned, Isabelle falls asleep shortly after departing.
I wait until she's out cold before I pull off the highway onto the shoulder and flash my hazards. I check my texts and emails one last time to make sure everything’s in order.
Satisfied that the final puzzle pieces have clicked into place, I turn off my hazards and get back on the road.
I’m surprised that she didn’t wake up on the way here. She must’ve not gotten a good night’s sleep, which bothers me, but after four hours asleep on the road, snuggled up in the blanket I got her, I'm confident she'll be plenty rested.
It’s late afternoon when we arrive. I quietly bring all the bags inside and take a quick walk around. Arranging the items in their appropriate rooms, it looks better than I'd imagined—and I'm buzzing to see Isabelle’s reaction.
I hurry back outside to find Isabelle still asleep and blissfully unaware of what I have in store for her.
I carefully open the passenger door and tuck the hair that's fallen across her peaceful face behind her ear.
Her eyelids flutter open sleepily as I stroke the backs of my fingers down her soft cheek.
“Hi,” she says, beaming up at me.
“Hi, sugar. We’re here.” I’ve parked so she can’t see the location out her window or the windshield.
She stretches her arms over her head, the blanket pools in her lap, and her shirt hikes up just enough to reveal a stripe of her soft stomach.
As I take the blanket from her lap, my fingers graze her supple thighs, and her quads jump beneath my touch.
I unbuckle her seatbelt, her crystalline eyes taking in every movement. She takes my hand, and I help her down out of the truck. I don’t say a word as I walk her around the front of the truck, finally facing her towards our destination.
She sharply inhales a breath of cold mountain air and covers her mouth with her free hand, the one clasped in mine is gripping me for dear life.
We stand before the Dreamhouse. Outdoor LED lights sparkle along every inch of the roofline and outwards connecting to the surrounding trees. I’ll have to bring her back out after sunset so she can see the lights twinkle over the lake.
“Reid, what are we doing here?” she asks in awe.
“Why don’t we go in and see.” I never thought planning a surprise would give me so much pleasure. I have a sneaking feeling that I might enjoy her reactions more than she'll enjoy the surprises themselves.
The Dreamhouse is idyllic, warmed by the glow of the crackling fireplace. I lead her by the hand through the master bedroom to the en suite bathroom. My hands envelop her trim waist as I move to cover her back with my chest.
The massive jacuzzi tub is bathed in the oranges and pinks from the setting sun through the picture window.
Flickering candles line the foot of the tub.
Across the basin filled with swirling foam, a wooden tray creates a stripe, holding a glass of ice water, a sea sponge, and a vase with a single pink rose.
My mouth caresses the shell of her ear. “Take as long as you want, sugar. When you’re done, the towels are on the shelf behind the tub, and there’s a robe for you on the back of the door.”
With that, I kiss the crown of her head and leave her standing speechless in the bathroom. The door softly clicks behind me, and I get my ass into high gear. I reach into the closet and pull out the garment bag and stack of boxes and set them neatly on the bed.
I race out to the kitchen and start to re-warm the food and check that the toppings are prepared in the fridge.
Darting into the main room, I pull vase after vase of flowers from their hiding spots behind sofas and chairs.
I light two dozen candles between the dining room and living room, taking great care to arrange them.
I set the table like I saw on the pin board app, The Pin Interest?
I seat us side by side, so I can serve her and be close enough to touch her. Checking the time, I estimate she'll be in the bath for another twenty minutes. Perfect.
I hustle to one of the guest bedrooms and pull a garment bag and two large boxes from the closet.
While dressing myself, my anticipation is running like a current beneath my skin.
For the first time in nearly eight years, I’m satisfied with my appearance.
Bolstered by my burst of confidence, I walk back to the kitchen and fill the dining table with tray after tray of hot food, and bowls of cold additions.
With everything where it should be, I sit by the fire counting down the seconds to what I hope is my future.