Page 213 of Chasing Sparks

“I think it’s better than good. Don’t worry. I’ve got you. You’re safe. Step up ... and again.”

I follow his lead, pausing when I hear the jingle of keys and the creak of a door opening. Warm air brushes my skin, carrying with it the faint scent of cinnamon apples.

“Are we atRum & Ruin?”

“Definitely not,” he replies, a teasing lilt in his tone. “Hopefully later today, though.”

He guides me further inside, his hands never leaving me. “Ready?”

“I guess.”

“You’re going to have to do better than that,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my neck.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” I exclaim with an excitement I don’t fully feel.

Hey, give me some credit. Surprises are notalwayshappy.

“Much better.” His chuckle is rich with anticipation as he lifts the blindfold.

I blink against the sudden light, my vision adjusting.

And then I realize where we are.

I spin around, my heart pounding as my mind struggles to reconcile what I’m seeing.

We’re at the Dean Estate, standing in the fully completed carriage house apartment.

But it’s not possible, is it?

“How ... how is this finished?” I twirl slowly, my eyes taking in every detail, half believing that if I blink, I’ll wake and find it all a dream.

“Come on,” Ash says, grabbing my hand. “Let me show you around.”

He gestures to the main living space, drenched in natural light from three massive windows lining one wall. “We kept the exposed brick and beams but laid down new hardwood floors. And there are those Tiffany pendant lamps you liked.”

“It’s incredible,” I breathe, still unsure that any of this is real.

He walks us to the kitchen, a perfect blend of modern convenience and vintage charm. “I know you love cooking, so we made sure there’s plenty of room to whip up your fabulous feasts. And there’s space for a table for when friends come over.”

I run my hand along the cool quartz countertop, marveling at the stained-glass insets in the cabinet doors, each panel capturing natural scenes of the mountains. “It’s fantastic. I can already see myself cooking in here.”

“So can I.” He smiles, taking my hand again and leading me to the master bedroom. “We added crown molding and a tray ceiling, plus a walk-in closet for all your stuff.”

“Smart man,” I murmur, a permanent grin etched on my face.

“And this,” he says, guiding me into the second bedroom, “will be the baby’s room. I didn’t decorate it completely—I figured you’d want to help with that.”

The future nursery is painted a soft, calming green, with a large oak crib already set in the corner. Above the crib, in Ash’s perfect calligraphy, is a familiar term:Sei sempre nel mio cuore.

“That’s what you said to me the other day.”

“You’re always in my heart,” Ash murmurs. “That’s what it means and Ori, you are.”

“I can’t believe you did all this,” I whisper, a few tears slipping down my cheeks.

Ash brushes them away with a tender swipe of his thumb. “Hey, come on. You haven’t seen the best part yet.”

He guides me to the bathroom, pointing out the clawfoot soaking tub and dual shower, but it’s the atrium that steals my breath.

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