Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tanner
“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said it would be on the outskirts.” She’s being a brat again. I’m debating whether to fuck her attitude out on the side of the road or give her some privacy and pound her pussy in the cab of my truck. Either one works for me.
“When do I kid?” Checking the rearview before I veer off to the side, I stop the truck in front of a dilapidated structure that lived in its prime about fifty years ago.
Today, it’s nothing more than parts for a junkyard sitting a little more than fifty feet from the “Blue Hills Grove is sad to see you go” sign that’s been defaced more times than I count.
When I look at it, though, I see a goldmine.
“Um, we are not living in that…whatever that is.” Where is the trust?
“The house is for later. Come on.” Jumping out of the truck, I make my way to her side. In movies, the men always open the doors for their women, so I figured I’d give Berkleigh some gentlemanly behavior.
Turns out, she can open her own damn door. I smirk because fuck yeah, she can.
We’re not most people and we don’t need to follow the rules of society. In fact, fuck society. We’re writing our own rules.
Top of the list…fuck at every opportunity. On that front, we’ve been model citizens.
In the last two months since we righted a wrong, we’ve been looking for the perfect home and I’ve been hunting down the owners of the garage—slash—gas station that used to be a welcomed sight back in the seventies. It’s easier to find sex traffickers than garage shop owners, it seems.
But I’m nothing if not persistent.
“I wonder what happened to Old Man Bryer?” Berkleigh’s question is more aimed at herself than at me but I answer anyway.
“He died.” Snatching her hand because I need to be touching her in some way at all times, I pull her behind me so we’re standing in front of said old man’s gas station.
“I know that!” It occurs to me that eight hours without my dick buried deep in her cunt is about as long as she can go before she gets grumpy. Fungry…hungry for fucking.
“Then why did you ask?” I’m frowning because this is killing my surprise and the speech I prepared for her.
“I meant his sons. They never came back and this place has become the eye sore of the town, that’s all.” Life would be so much easier if people just said the things they meant, but here we are.
“His oldest, Kenneth, died in Afghanistan about thirteen years ago. Old Man Bryer was never the same after that.” I didn’t know Kenny well, but I remember the devastation in town when the news broke out. It was less than a week before I shipped out to boot camp.
“Oh yeah, I remember that. My mom used to sing in the choir with his wife…what was her name?” Again, she’s not asking me, but of course, I’ll tell her.
“Marianne. She moved shortly after his death and remarried about four years ago. They live upstate.” Berkleigh turns her entire body to face me, and when I look down at her, I’m met with two slits of blue eyes ready to disintegrate me.
“Tanner Black, what are you up to? There’s no way you just casually know all this information.” We’re going to have to work on our communication skills. At the very least, on the delivery.
“Why do you assume I’m up to something?” When she punches her fists to her hips, I know she means business.
“Because you’re always up to something.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she turns back to the building and sighs. “Why are we here, Tanner? I have a virtual session in thirty minutes that I can’t miss. I actually like this client.”
“You suck at surprises, you know that, right?” Stepping behind her, I engulf her in my arms to keep her warm and protected from the rising winter winds.
I thought everything would be settled by Halloween but my Sweet Bee is difficult to please.
In the last few months, we’ve visited a couple shy of fifteen houses.
All of them had pools. None of them were to her liking.
Both houses were sold off before November so we’ve been staying in the cabin.
It’s not ideal but it works, as long as it’s temporary. Our shit, though, is in storage.
“What surprise?”
“Ta da!” I spread my arms wide like I’m presenting a new fashion line.
“It took a lot of fucking effort to find Old Man Bryer’s youngest son but I finally did.
He’s in Nebraska. Or Kansas. I always get them mixed up.
” Seriously, those two states are about as interesting as my ball sack. “We signed yesterday…it’s all yours.”
“We?” She turns fully in my arms, fighting back a smile and trying to disguise it as a scowl. Pfft, amateur. “What did I say about forging my signature?”
“That we’d have a conversation about it.” I shrug and she knows where I’m going with this. “But we never did so…”
“You’re impossible, you know that, right?” She throws my earlier accusation back in my face.
“Yes, Sweet Bee.” With both of my gloved hands on her shoulders, I turn her to face the building again. “Now, say thank you and be grateful for your Christmas present.” A month early, but who’s counting? She swivels in my arms and squeezes my cheeks with her mitten-clad hands.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful, it’s just that you’re so…” She stutters, searching for the right word to describe me.
It’s easy enough for me to find so I help her out.
“Amazing?”
“Not always—”
“I beg to differ, Sweet Bee. This morning, the orgasm I gave you looked pretty fucking amazing.” I interrupt but she doesn’t miss a beat.
“Sometimes you’re just…unpredictable.”
She’s not wrong so I hum my agreement and bring my forehead to hers. “I’ll take that as a compliment, and if ever I do get predictable, shoot me dead.” I grin and she scowls, but it holds no venom.
“Come on, let’s go see our new home.” My announcement dies on my tongue when Berkleigh resists.
“Wait! How are we supposed to get this garage up and running? Who’s going to fix the cars? Hell, who’s going to fix the building?”
Oh, ye of little faith.
“You’re looking at him. Come on!” I try to pull her again so she’ll follow me, but the stubborn won’t quit.
“All by yourself?”
“Of course not, silly. You’re going to help.” This time when I pull, she doesn’t fight me and it feels like an Olympic win.
We walk for about three minutes before we reach the two-story wooden structure.
Night comes early so the lights inside are already on and waiting for our arrival.
I had the heat turned on as soon as we signed the papers.
Again, we didn’t go through the regular process and officially, I didn’t buy anything.
The money from the sales of both houses covered this one and the garage with enough left over to set up shop.
Loans aren’t a good idea when you work for a mercenary company that uses you as a sniper. Let’s just say it’s unconventional at best and banks aren’t fond of that word.
The sales and acquisitions are legit, they’re just not…conventional. And none of that even matters because I haven’t spent a fraction of what I’ve made these last two and half years and my investments are solid. Needless to say, we’re not strapped for cash.
Beside me, Berkleigh gasps and I can just feel it in my gut. This is the one. Thank fuck because I’ve got the keys in my pocket and returns aren’t easy or cheap.
“Ohmygod, Tanner!” I growl when she breaks free from my hold on her hand and starts running for the front door. “Can I go inside?”
“We can even fuck inside, if you want.” In fact, that would be great.
She doesn’t protest, which tells me she’s not opposed to the idea. Kudos to myself for making sure the house is nice and toasty.
“How many rooms?” She’s twirling in the entrance hall, head thrown back and arms out like she’s some kind of cartoon princess in a silly dress.
“Four rooms, four baths.” We’ll never use them all but we can break down a wall and make one gigantic office so even when we’re working, we’re breathing the same air.”
I wasn’t kidding when I said I was obsessive. Compulsive, even.
I follow her line of sight and grin when I see the very top of the cathedral-style wooden framework adds depth to the rest of the open plan.
“Ohhhh, there are windows up there! We can star-gaze from the comfort of our own home!” It’s impossible not to get excited as I watch Berkleigh tremble with happiness.
The living room is two steps below, giving it a cocoon feel with the lit fireplace as a central figure. Bay windows with French doors on one side, huge fucking kitchen so I can cook and fuck my woman at the same time.
One thing’s for damn sure, I can’t wait to get the fuck out of that cabin deep in the woods. We need more space to exist since being alone together is our favorite pastime.
“Maybe we’ll get the Northern Lights again this year.” I shrug like it’s no big deal but to be honest, it was just luck.
I should probably tell her how we got this house. Nah, she’ll try to pussystrike me again. Last time, she ended up with multiple handprints on her ass.
“Did the Combses move?” Berkleigh asks, and now I have to tell her because I’m okay with omitting the truth but I don’t lie.
“Yes.”
She whips around, her index finger pointed at me and her eyes ready to disintegrate me…again. “Did you…” She uses her finger to mock slice her throat and I swear to fuck I’ve never loved her more.
“No, I did not kill them. What the fuck, Berkleigh?” I’m laughing because, really…what the fuck? I don’t go around ending people so I can have a house. Although for the right reasons, I just might.
“You did something.” Her entire face falls when another reason occurs to her. “Oh my God, did they divorce? Mrs. Combs was a patient of mine and—” She cuts herself off before she can say any more. “And the rest is none of your business.” Ah, she was about to spill.