“Say yes,” he demands, pulling back.
“I’ll think about it,” I repeat.
There’s a flicker of defiance in his eyes that spikes my blood, and I fight to keep from screaming. “You bought it.”
‘It’ being the run-down, desperately in need of renovation, beach house Mathis is hell-bent on buying. He’d mentioned finding a new place on the water after our time at my parents’ condo, but life was too chaotic. So many things were happening—our engagement, wedding planning, my kidnapping, the actual wedding—and the subject was dropped. But the minute we got home after spending two weeks in Mustique, he became a man on a mission. Up until two days ago, I thought he was looking at condo living until he took me to what I consider an old Floridian beach shack.
To say I was surprised is an understatement. This house doesn’t just need a renovation; it needs an overhaul.
“I didn’t buy it yet.”
“Why the rush for an answer?”
“Because it’s a good time to make an offer.” The vague answer heightens my suspicions. His eyes lock with mine, and I know immediately he’s done something impulsive.
“What did you do?”
“The owner agreed to have a preliminary inspection prior to offer. This gave me the leverage to counter on the asking price. I made a fair offer the sellers are willing to take. The difference between the two will be moved to the renovation funds. Now, all I need is for my beautiful wife to stop her phony hold out.”
“I’m not being phony.”
“Claire, you should know by now it’s impossible to fool me. I saw your expression when you stepped off that back deck and onto the sand. We’re not playing this game. You want it, I’m going to give it to you.”
There’s a collective sigh, reminding me we aren’t alone. I cut my eyes to the side and see Shaw and Nick at their wives’ sides, both smiling haughtily. Through the years, I’ve learned to read their expressions pretty well, and right now, it’s obvious they’re involved in whatever Mathis is up to.
“You’re right, it’s wonderful, but taking on a project like this isn’t a good idea right now.” My focus goes back to Mathis.
“Give me a reason why not.”
“Because you’re ass deep in this research study with Dr. Andrews, and your workload is insane. A project of this magnitude is too much.”
“Too much for who?”
“You!”
“Do I need to remind you where my commitment lies? Dr. Andrews and I spoke today. We’ve made some changes to our timeline, and this project has a lot of moving parts. This is the perfect time.”
My brain searches for another argument but nothing comes to mind. Mathis is right; as soon as I saw the view, I loved it. The potential and possibilities of redesign are endless.
“Here’s the offer.” Shaw slides a stack of papers across the counter. “Financing is secure. As soon as you sign, and bearing no complications, we can fast-track the sale. The house can be yours in a week.”
My excitement takes over, and I leap on Mathis, climbing his body and smashing my mouth to his in a quick kiss. “Yes!”
He grins against my lips, squeezing my ass tight. “I want us in by Christmas.”
I freeze, speechless at the impossible request. I’m about to tell him this when I glance over and finally know what Nick and Shaw found so amusing. With their influence, nothing is impossible.
“Christmas at our house,” I announce.
Bizzy and Grace’s faces light up with the same excitement bursting inside of me. “This calls for a celebration,” Grace declares, eyeing Nick.
“The champagne and beer kind of celebration? Or should I grab the martini glasses?”
She raises an eyebrow to me for a decision.
“I’m going to say champagne. Let’s save the martinis for when I don’t have to wake up tomorrow and start planning a rebuild.”
This earns me another ass squeeze. “Good plan,” Mathis whispers. “Although, I wouldn’t mind seeing your sweet ass crawl across the floors again.”