Page 25 of Pride

NINE

Anna

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet earlier.” The realtor unlocked the front door, pushed it open, and then gestured toward the vacant living room. “It needs a little work, but it’s beachfront. Take a look around and see what you think.”

Without furnishings, the home looked massive. I gazed up at the ceilings and tried to guess how high they were. Giddy with excitement, but still not believing what was going on, I stepped to the side and allowed Fisher to walk past me.

It had been a week since we made it to Oceanside. True to his word, Fisher and I had yet to have sex. He’s joked about it and hinted around, but had not so much as made one move in that direction.

In honor of what he’d said, I was willing to wait until his feet were firmly planted before I attacked him.

“It’s a little more that I was hoping to spend, will the bank be flexible on price?” Fisher asked.

“Their price is very hopeful, I’ll say that. If you make a reasonable offer, they may consider it.”

“We’ll look around,” he said.

“Take your time. I’ll be here if you have any questions.”

Hand in hand, we walked through the home. The realtor said it needed work, but it looked perfect to me. The crayon marks on the walls, holes where pictures had been hung, and scuff marks on the hardwood floors were proof that the home had been lived in, and nothing else.

We took a quick stroll through the lower level. The expansive living room ran from just inside the entrance to the rear of the home. The wall that faced the beach was all glass, giving an open view of the ocean. On the left, a dining room and a kitchen I’d simply die to have. On the right, the master bedroom and an office or den.

“So, there’s one bedroom down here, and two upstairs?” I asked.

“One down, two up.”

I laughed. “Is that what that means?”

He shrugged. “I guess so.”

We walked up the stairs and looked around. Two bedrooms and a living area were in the upstairs loft, which was open to the downstairs. I peered over the handrail toward where the realtor stood.

“This place makes me feel so small,” I whispered. “I’ve never seen ceilings this high.”

He gazed downstairs and then looked at me. “I like it.”

It seemed like a pipe dream to me. In two weeks, I’d escaped a nasty relationship, came close to being raped by three rejects from Deliverance, was saved by a stranger, rode across the United States on the back of a Harley, and played a part in a multi-million-dollar gold negotiation.

Now, I was looking at a home with a man who’d promised to fuck my brains out once his feet were firmly planted on the ground.

And, the home we were touring faced an ocean that prior to a week ago, I’d never had the privilege of experiencing.

My mind was incapable of processing everything.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“About?”

He spread his arms wide. “This?”

“The house? I love it. How could I not?”

“I’m going to make her an offer.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”