Chapter 63 #2
After our guests leave for the night, Sam and I are alone in the new apartment.
I’d spent the better part of the evening just looking around the place.
I checked out all of my little cupboards and shelves, peeking inside each one, discovering my things are in the exact same spots they were at my house.
Sam must have taken great care to return everything to the right place.
It’s overwhelming; all of these feelings I have right now are overwhelming.
“Let’s go to bed,” says Sam in my ear. He’s smiling, but his expression is also a bit worried.
His expression is saying, Please don’t be angry that I did all this.
I place my hand in his and pull him into the blue bedroom.
I realize that my clothes are all over at his other place, but I peek in one of my old drawers, and sure enough, there’s one of my nightshirts.
“How did you do all of this without me finding out?” I wonder aloud.
“It was after I brought you home from the hospital. I started work on it right away.”
“You bought this place then?”
“No, I owned it already. It was just sitting empty. I used it for clients sometimes. It was an investment.”
“Investment? You have two penthouse apartments in the same building as an investment?”
“I own several apartments in this building and a few others in the city.”
“Huh?” I know he’s got some money, but I guess I didn’t realize how much.
He chuckles. “Let’s get into bed and talk. My leg is killing me.” While I slide into my nightshirt, he slips out of his clothes, leaving only his boxers. We crawl into bed and sigh at the same moment. “I’m a little sore, too,” I admit. I smile at him. This bed is huge.
“Come over here,” he says, reaching for me.
“I don’t have it in me for any hanky-panky, Sam.”
He lets out a deep laugh. “I don’t either, sweetheart. I just want to hold my fiancée.”
Fiancée? I peek down at my ring and then back at him. I scoot over until my head is on his shoulder. He wraps his big arm around me, and I feel safe, warm, and secure. I have to ask, “Do you really want to marry me? We haven’t been seeing each other that long.”
“I really want to marry you. I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let me get away with that.” He laughs.
“I don’t think your mom or Lauren would let either of us get away with that. Lauren’s already planning the bachelorette party.”
He chuckles.
“It’s going to be in Vegas, FYI.” I lay my arm over his chest. “Your mom’s paying.”
“Jesus,” he says, laughing ruefully. “I’m going with you. Gill and me and our guys can do our thing there, too. I don’t trust Lauren or my mom in Vegas. Alone. Without male protection. No way.”
I giggle into his chest. “Lauren seems happy.”
“Gill does, too.”
“I’m a little worried, though.”
“Why? Gill’s a good guy,” Sam says, sounding defensive.
“Well, Lauren is so, um, vulnerable right now. Blake really did a number on her. She thought he loved her, but he was just after her money.”
“So, you’re worried Gill is after her for her money?”
“Uh, no,” I say as I run my palm over his hard chest. How did I get so lucky with this man? “Maybe.” I feel him laugh before I hear it. His chest starts to rumble and then he belts out a series of loud laughs. “What’s so funny?”
He wraps his other arm around me and pulls me to face him. “Ever heard of Tillman Oil?”
“Of course. Who hasn’t?”
“Gill’s last name is Tillman.”
I blink and blink. “Gill Tillman is related to Tillman Oil?”
“His great-grandfather started the company. His asshole dad runs it now. Gill’s supposed to be next in line to run it, but he doesn’t want anything to do with it.”
“So, his dad is rich, but because he doesn’t want to work with his dad, he’s poor?”
Sam kisses my forehead patiently. “No, babe. Gill is rich as Croesus. His grandmother made sure of that. Apparently, she knew her own son was a tool.”
“Gill’s rich? But he drives around in a rusty old Toyota pickup. He wears old clothes.”
“That’s Gill. He doesn’t need to show off.”
“So, he’s rich? I don’t think Lauren knows about that.”
“Probably not. I’m sure he wants to wait until he knows it’s the real deal. He’s had some bad experiences with clingers.”
“Lauren’s loaded. She’s not going to care about his money.”
“Lauren’s got money but not Tillman Oil money or even Gill Tillman money. Gill owns this building. Over the years, he’s sold off some of the apartments but he still owns the majority as well as the structure itself.”
I let out a gasp. “He does?” I smile, thinking about my best friend. She’s finally met her equal, at least as relates to money. I have yet to decide if Gill is her equal as a person. She’s always been better than anyone else as far as I’m concerned.
“He does. He’s invested in a lot of things around the city. I’m afraid you hooked up with the poor one. Are you sad about that?”
I slap him on the chest. “Sam, don’t be ridiculous. I couldn’t care less about your money. If we were poor and had to live at my place, I’d be okay as long as you were with me.”
He must like that answer because he pats my bottom affectionately. “That reminds me: what are you gonna do with your place?”
“I’m not sure. I can’t give it up. Not yet anyway.” I roll back to my back. “Maybe I could use it as a studio to make jewelry. I could get a kiln and some other equipment. I could—”
“Mac?” he whines. “I hate the idea of you even going back there. Why don’t you just rent it to someone you know?”
“It’s my home, Sam. I grew up there.”
“You could work here. There are three bedrooms. We could set it up exactly like you want. Hell, we could set up the other condo up as your studio. Then you’d only have to go next door. Surely there’s someone you know who needs a nice rental apartment?”
“Is it even in any shape to rent? Is my place completely destroyed?” The medicine cabinet, the drawers, the built-in shelves, and some of the parquet flooring are all here now.
“No. They replaced everything as they went along. I thought you might want to sell it, so they did a great job putting it back together. They painted, too. The colors are all the same, by the way—just a fresh coat over the top. I also had the carpeting replaced, a larger shower installed, and an apartment-size stove and dishwasher added to the kitchen.”
“Sam?”
“What? It wasn’t expensive, and it adds value. I was thinking of it as an investment.”
“God, I owe you like a million dollars, don’t I?”
“No. You don’t owe me a cent. All I want is you and your beautiful heart as payment. Oh, and your sexy body, too.” Sam leans over and gives me one of his signature kisses—soft and sweet to start and then deeper and more passionate to end. I kiss him back with everything I’ve got.
“How did I get so lucky?” I sigh.
“I’m the lucky one, sweetheart. Never doubt that for a second. I truly can’t believe my good luck.”
“All right. I’ll ask around. I think Diane’s brother was looking for a place to live.”
“Thank God,” he mumbles.
“I’m not promising anything. I said I’d ask.”
He leans over and wraps his arms around me tightly. “I have every confidence we can find someone suitable to rent your place. Every confidence.”
“Mm-hmm. I bet you do. Bossy.”
He chuckles and then kisses me. I’m sure he’ll get his way. He always does.