Page 24 of The Bourbon Bargain

“That’s all part of the magic, my love. I pay very close attention to everything that has to do with you.” I take her hand and lead her through the wrought iron gate and up the ivy and royal palm-bordered steps toward the double-decker veranda. The house is a gorgeous three-story Victorian, painted white with shutters so dark green they look black setting off the plethora of windows. The landscaping is lush and gives the property the same feel Elysium has, though all of the plants thrive in the Savannah climate without the need for a greenhouse. I pull a keychain out of my pocket and turn her hand over to place it in her palm.

“Do the honors, Mrs. Olsen?”

She looks down at the key in her hand and laughs, the sound clear and tinkling. She holds up the jeweled pomegranate attached to the silver house key. “You don’t forget a thing, do you?”

“You should see the keychain I got for the Maybach, it’s the Batmobile.” My humor is rewarded by her pressing up onto her tiptoes to kiss me, leaving behind a red lip print, if I’m lucky.

“I think I’m bringing out the fun in you after all.” She turns away and fits the key into the door and pushes it open.

I grab her wrist, holding her in place as she starts to walk in.

“You know better, angel,” I reprimand, my lips against her neck. She hums a pleased sound as I scoop her up into my arms and walk through the doorway with her before setting her on the other side in the foyer. “We’re still newlyweds, my love.”

“You and your cherry-picked traditions.” She spins and takes off through the nearly empty home.

I asked the previous owners to leave a few pieces I thought suited the place, and they were more than happy to oblige when I added to the already inflated purchase price to compensate for their loss. A happy squeal has me moving to the kitchen, a beautiful space I know Paige will dirty in a second, as every surface is white, save for the gray veining in the marble counters and the dark wood floors.

Paige is leaning on the butcher block island, pulling a card out of an envelope from a vase full of stunning red roses next to a box with the Chanel logo on it. I found her a bag I thought my brothers would find fitting, so she cancarry my balls around in it, to quote Payton.

“Oh, Hayes.” She looks up, her eyes glittering with tears. “This is beautiful.”

The note took me a while to craft. I’m not much of a poet other than being able to put together some rhyming couplets when provoked, so unfortunately, it won’t go down in the annals of great poetry. I’m just glad she likes it. I worked it out like this:

I found a home most suited for the one I hold dear,

Its beauty classic, full of grace, of my bride’s own it’s a mirror.

History in the bones and love marked on the walls,

To hold the sound of little ones echoing through the halls.

A place to raise our children and together grow old,

To leave behind a legacy of love so strong it will be forever told.

Make this house a home with me, as husband and wife,

Fill it with love and noise, the epic story of our life.

“You’re beautiful.” I tip her chin up with a finger and kiss her red lips until they open, and then I devour her sweet honey mouth.

Her hands move from my shoulders down my chest to my pants and she makes quick work of the button and zipper, her hands slipping inside to take hold of me. I groan against her mouth as she squeezes and strokes me.

“I want to start a new tradition.” Her breathy whisper traces along my neck as she leaves my mouth. “I want you to make love to me in every room of this house, or any we have after. Even a haunted attic or scary cellar if it has them. I want any spirits that inhabit the place to know we’re filling the house with only sexy moaning, so they don’t get any ideas about sticking around.”

My chest vibrates as I laugh. “You think this place is haunted? It has such good energy.”

“Anything over a hundred years old is liable to be haunted. I used to lead history tours, in a big ball gown and parasol, no less, and there are plenty of stories about haunted houses around Savannah I could tell you.”

“So, you’re saying that instead of burning sage to cleanse the space, we’re going to fuck the spirits out of every room?”

She purses her lips as her eyes heat. “I said make love, but I think we could do that in a few of the rooms.”

“Say it, you filthy girl. I know you have it in you,” I growl, my dick throbbing in her hand.

Her eyes smolder as she licks her lips and drops to her knees. She looks down at my cock in her hand, then rolls her eyes back up to me and I groan.

“We can fuck in every room.”

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