Tears hover on her eyelids. “You’ll…” She pauses. “You’ll still love us even after taking care of us?” She seems completely baffled by the concept.
“I’ll love you more if you let me. What I feel for you has no conditions. There’s no time limit to it either.”
Jumping into my arms, we fall backwards and right onto the waiter’s feet as he’s delivering our breakfast. “Good morning!” He says it like it happens all the time.
After getting Megan fed and content, we head out to play in the water and collect more seashells to decorate our home with. She seems lighter after our talk. Happier. I still have more questions, but nothing that can’t wait until we get home again.
Megan
After a blissful week in Bora Bora, we’ve just landed back home in Washington, D.C. as the sun is setting. Exhaustion has kicked my butt after the long flight, and Jordan decides to carry me through the airport and to the car. Someone offered to get a cart for us to ride in, but he growled and claimed it wasn’t a burden.
He silenced my laughter with a panty-melting kiss.
As the Town Car he summoned drives through D.C. and into the Great Falls District, I realize just how loaded my new husband is. The homes we pass are ones that get mentioned in the likes of House and Home Magazine. I’ve always envied the people who live here. Not because of how much money they have but for the freedom from nosey neighbors. Having acres upon acres of land grants them more privacy than your average neighborhood. Living in the country has always been a dream I’ve never allowed to come out and play too often.
The home we stop in front of is brick and mortar; it has an older feel to it. Gates at least ten feet high greet us as we make our way
up the drive. Ponds filled with Koi fish are on either side of the blacktop.
“Those will have to go when the baby comes,” Jordan says with frustration.
“Oh no, please, don’t get rid of something you like.” I’d be horrified if he did that.
He laughs at me. “Baby, I don’t care about the damn ponds. I care if our son or daughter drowns. They’re going.”
“You can’t keep saying stuff like that.”
“Why?” His voice is deep as he leans towards me.
“Because you make me melt when you do.”
The car door opening behind me stops any further conversation. Receiving help from the vehicle with a foreign hand, I wait for Jordan on the first step leading up to his monstrous home.
The stoic pillars on either side of the door are intimidating as he grabs my hand, leading the way up to the double paned glass door. “Wow,” I murmur as he opens it, and I get to see the intricate swirls throughout. “This is beautiful.”
“It’s part of the original house. Same with the bricks and the pillars.” Pride colors his words.
The inside is just as stunning as the outside with the cedar floors and banister on the staircase. Everything looks to be hand carved.
“There are six bedrooms, each with an en-suite bathroom, a powder room is through there”—he points to a small room as we pass—“family room there, and the kitchen is in the back, fully stocked with everything you could ask for. Once you’re more settled, we’ll do that together, and you can add whatever you want.” Jordan grins from ear to ear as he relays what every room is for. The rec room is massive, and he insists we’ll turn it into a playroom for the baby when it’s time.
As we pass one of the rooms, I get a quick glimpse of a library and one of those old roller desks. “What’s this?” I ask, pulling from his grip and walking into the space.
The smell of books—the one of paper and ink mixed together—hit me like a ton of bricks. I feel at ease here. Registering a chaise lounge chair by a large window with flowers lining the outside of the frame, I’m drawn to it. What I see steals the breath from my lungs. A vast garden with rows of fresh vegetables and more flowers than I could ever imagine. Benches, small tables, and a considerable patio are spread throughout the yard. Pergolas cover every seating area, providing shade from the hot summer sun. I notice at least three small fountains that add soothing background noise for relaxing in the evening.
I can picture sitting out there playing with our child while Jordan works, waiting for him to come home.
“This is absolutely perfect, Jordan.”
His hands on my hips are my only answer.
Looking up to him, I say, “Show me our room?”
A devilish smirk quirks his mouth as he ushers me up the stairs. The walls are lined with historical paintings from all over the world, and I’m, once again, in awe of the beauty surrounding me.
He leads me past four closed doors before pushing open double doors that lead into the master suite. A large bed with mesh netting encasing the corners is centered in the room with night tables on either side. A large walk-in closet dominates an entire wall, with a chest of drawers beside it.
Pushing me forward, he leads me to the master bath. “Oh…my…shit.”