Chapter 22
Christian
My alarm on the nightstand goes off absurdly loudly at eight o’clock in the morning.
Last night was night three of our carnival weekend, and we are exhausted. My stomach isn’t what it used to be.
I dressed in a simple suit today—navy pants and white button down, rolling up the sleeves a bit. No jacket. I slip on my Christian Loubotin loafers, grab my things, grab my gym bag packed with a change of clothes, and head out to my McLaren.
Finally, I drive to the address Mrs. Johnson texted me just before I began to get ready for our ten o’clock appointment.
I draw closer and closer toward the town’s lake, passing dream houses I’ve seen Lana looking at on her phone before.
Or at least they are similar to the ones we’ve spoken about when we think about our future in bed.
I’m not particularly attached to the car.
I know a McLaren 720S Convertible isn’t ideal for a family—we’d need a safe SUV to protect the entire family.
I once told Lana I’d get her a Range Rover, but I think I’ll get one for the both of us.
Spacious ones for the car seats and for the four of us to all fit comfortably.
Driving into Lana’s driveway to see her car there and knowing she’s inside is already a saccharine moment—every day. It makes me overly emotional to know that I will be going home to her for the rest of my life.
But with this house, it’ll be different because we’ll have two family cars in our driveway and two little girls running around inside, wrecking havoc and making a mess I will be honored to clean.
And in the evenings, we’ll go out back and watch the sunset.
We’ll chase and try to catch fireflies as a family, and at night, we’ll tuck the girls in with kisses on their foreheads.
After the girls are tucked away in their rooms, I can take my wife to bed and kiss her until we’re both dizzy. Make love to her and hold her to sleep.
Then we get to do it all over again. Every day.
I slow as the GPS informs me I am arriving at my destination.
Mrs. Johnson standing in her pencil skirt and purple blouse, holding an iPad, and waiting outside of one of the most remarkably stunning lake houses I’ve ever seen.
I’m pretty sure it could be considered a mansion, but I won’t tell Lana that. She’ll throw it at me.
I get out of the car with a smile already plastered on my face as I make my way to Mrs. Johnson.
It’s gorgeous and modern. The garage and front door are a soft brown, there’s a balcony just off the side on the second floor, which I hope is part of the master bedroom, and the front porch is also off to the side and big enough for furniture.
The windows are long and wide. The house itself is white with touches of light brown bricks as accents, aside from the large chimney that is made out of them entirely.
“Hi, Mrs. Johnson,” I say, giving her a hug. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”
“I got here just a moment before you did.”
“How have you been?”
“I’ve been well,” she says, smiling. She tosses her long braids over her shoulder and holds her iPad close to her chest. “So, a lake house, huh?”
I nod, grinning. “I’m just…scouting them out.”
“Is it a surprise or are you planning to tell her at all?” Mrs. Johnson arches a brow—the same way she always did when I was a kid, running around town and needing to be put in my place.
“Depends,” I muse, shrugging. “I just need to find the right one first.”
“Well, I’ve got about four houses for us today if that’s alright with you,” she says. “But, from everything you’ve told me, I think this house is the one.”
“I trust you,” I say, with a smirk and wink combo. “If anyone is going to find her the perfect house, it’s going to be you.”
Mrs. Johnson laughs. “You've gotten more shameless since you were a kid.”
I laugh with her, stuffing my hands in my pockets.
I finally take in the house before me in its full glory.
Much more extravagant than the other houses in this part of town.
More mansion-like, which I doubt Lana will accept at first, but she will grow to love it when I paint the picture I see in my head.
“Shall we go inside?”
I nod. “Lead the way.”
Mrs. Johnson lets us in and immediately, the entire lower level fills with sunlight from the numerous windows. That’s a check mark on the list—windows. Lana loves windows more than the normal person. She prefers natural light.
“As you can see,” she says, “windows are in..dramatic supply.”
I snort. “Rooms?”
“Five,” she tells me. “Master bedroom and the other three bedrooms are upstairs. The last room is on the lower level which was meant to be an office space. I believe that kind of room was on your list for a personal library.”
“It is,” I agree.
The floors are white washed wood, and the walls are white and bright. There’s a brick fireplace in the expansive living room, and we can hang a TV over.
“And the view?”
Mrs. Johnson smiles and signals for me to follow her through the house.
The back of the house is a wall of glass that gives an entire landscape view of the lake and hills, and there is an expansive patio, and a pool.
Sunlight floods the empty space, and I already see it—and this is just the first house.
“You knew exactly what I was looking for, Mrs. Johnson,” I breathe, still stuck on this view. I replay the vision of my future with Lana a few more times and grin.
“I know my clients well,” she says proudly. “But I know Lana well too, and I know that is who you are buying for.”
I sniff. “I am.”
“So?”
“Show me the rest,” I tell her with sore cheeks and a smile still stuck on my lips.
I take mental notes as we finish the tour of the house.
The open plan master bedroom with an ensuite bathroom that has both a tub and shower—both big enough for the two of us—and the open closet.
The two other bedrooms upstairs are perfect for nurseries that will grow with our little girls, who will share a bathroom in the hall.
Downstairs, the dining room is big enough for our friends to visit for holidays and random gatherings.
The living room is large enough for family movie nights and fort building with the girls.
The family room has a fireplace and comes with a perfect corner for a tree to set the scene for our first Christmas morning as a family.
The kitchen is bright and modern, marble countertops and gold accents, and a large window that opens to the back of the house.
Then the extra room will serve as our office, but mostly Lana’s library.
Back in the wide open and bright foyer, I follow Mrs. Johnson back outside. Facing the house, I back up until the entire property comes into view.
“Judging by the smile on your silly face,” Mrs. Johnson says, “you love this house more than I thought you would.”
I stuff my hands in my pockets and I just can’t look away.
“I don’t think I have to see any other ones,” I breathe, still utterly stupefied.
“I thought as much.” She smiles proudly. “So?”
I’m grinning as I nod.
“Wonderful,” she says. “She’s going to love it.”
“I know,” I say. “Can I make an offer?”
Since it’s Monday, I know Lana has taken the day off. It’s become a thing and I’ve encouraged it. She barely takes any time off, so she needs at least one recharging day a week. We’ve compromised on Monday’s.
After seeing the house—and not bothering to see the others—I went straight for the gym. My muscles are still recovering from the intense workout Julian put me through today, both downstairs and upstairs in the ring.
As I pull into the driveway, I feel a certain giddiness about the meeting this Friday.
I want to tell someone this secret and what better place than AA where everyone is forced to keep your secrets.
And I want to see the look on Terrance’s face when I tell him, a part of me hoping he’ll be proud of me for finding stability and peace. My happy place with my person.
In my gym clothes, I toe off my sneakers at the front door and set my loafers down beside them. I drop my bag and stride toward the kitchen, relishing in a great fucking Monday.
In the kitchen, I’m greeted by the most beautiful woman in the world, sitting on a stool at the island and drinking a Coke with a book in her hand, and I don’t hesitate to grab her face to crush my lips over hers.
Lana’s gasp is quiet and muffled, then she kisses me back, parting her lips for me. “Christian,” she moans between kisses. “Hi.”
I moan against her mouth and press my hips between her legs. I trail my lips down her jaw, tracing a line down her neck as she tosses her head back.
“Christian,” she rasps, her hands firm on my chest and legs tight around my waist. “Babe— Baby—”
“Hmm?” I pull back and take her in—red, swollen lips, perfect eyes, and the brightest smile, all in the only home I’ve ever known.
“Hey,” she breathes, “what was that for?”
I shrug. “Just missed you.”
“Where have you been?”
“I had an appointment,” I say, hoping she’ll trust me with this. “Then I went to the gym.”
“Oh.” She frowns and I pull her lips up with my thumbs. “Okay. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, baby.” I kiss her lips softly. “I promise.”
“Is it… Is it bad?”
“No, Lana, it’s a surprise,” I tell her, reluctantly removing my hands from her face. “Early birthday surprise.”
“My birthday isn’t for another two months, Christian,” she says, untwining her limbs around my body. “It’s too early.”
I shrug, rounding the kitchen to grab a glass. “Then it’s just a gift.”
“I don’t trust your gifts.” Lana crosses her arms and flips her hair over her shoulder. “They’re expensive and I’m always scared of ruining them.”
“Lana, baby, I already told you.”
She rolls her eyes with a groan. “That you’ll buy me a new one, yes, yes. Christian, that isn’t my point.”
I pour water with a smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ve already started planning your birthday party.”
I turn and find her gaping at me. “Christian!”