Page 77 of Pretending I'm Yours

My smile stretches wider, even as a sweet ache spreads through my chest. Fuck, I love this woman. “Thanks. And you’ll always be my dirty little virgin who couldn’t wait to be fucked hard.”

Pudge makes a disapproving sound low in his throat.

“Oh, hush,” Maya says as I laugh. “If you don’t like the dirty talk, you can sleep downstairs. Daddy and I have no plans of cleaning up our act anytime soon.”

Daddy…

I like the sound of that.

Apparently, Pudge does, too. He scoots closer to the side of my leg, starting to purr again as we all soften into sleep. And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel surrounded by family.

Like I’m where I belong, and that life is only getting better, from here on out.

chapter 23

MAYA

Two days later…

The viewfrom Rainbow Room takes my breath away. Sixty-five stories above Manhattan, the city spreads out beneath us like a blanket of stars, holiday lights still twinkling in every direction. A drizzly winter rain falls softly outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, making the city gleam in the golden light from neighboring skyscrapers.

It isn’t as pristine or peaceful as the snow, but it’s beautiful in its own way, and it’s not like we’ll have to go far in the rain after the party’s over. Anthony got us a room at a nearby hotel, a gorgeous suite that made me feel like a princess when we checked in this afternoon.

I can’t wait to climb into that big, canopied bed with him tonight and eat room service breakfast in bed in the morning.

I told Anthony that I’d never had room service before and he immediately called the suite’s private concierge, placing an order for an obscene amount of food. Come tomorrow morning, we’ll be propped up on our giant fluffy pillows, devouring omelets, gourmet French toast, pastries, a smoothie sampler,and a fruit plate that cost more than I used to make in an hour working for my parents.

And then, tomorrow afternoon…we’re moving in together!

Pudge is already at Anthony’s place with the pet sitter, and I called my parents to tell them that I won’t be returning to Maine, after all. I told them that I’m in love, moving in with the man of my dreams, and starting my own rental business.

Were they shocked? Absolutely.

But they weren’t nearly as resistant to the idea as I’d expected them to be.

I’m sure it helped that Anthony was on the video call, too, looking gorgeous and devoted and promising to do everything in his power to keep me safe in the big city. He’d already had a background check on himself delivered via express courier to my parents’ house that morning, a detail that seemed like overkill considering I’d already explained to them the day before that Anthony used to be Weaver’s boss and wasn’t really a “stranger” at all.

Weaver’s a local boy and comes from a well-respected, albeit cold, family. My parents know Weaver, have seen how wonderful and loving he is with Sully, and were happy to take his word for it that Anthony is a solid guy.

I was worried my father, in particular, would think the background check was Anthony protesting too much and might mean he had something to hide. But Dad seemed charmed by the special delivery. He kept referring to the report as we chatted, asking Anthony about his vacation home in Key West and if he enjoyed fly fishing, particularly for tarpon, a giant fish my dad has apparently always dreamed of conquering with his rod and reel.

Anthony, being Anthony, immediately offered to let my parents use the home anytime they liked, so that Dad could finally face off against his fishy nemesis.

After we ended the call, I turned and apologized. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Dad’s inner Silas Mariner would come out on the call. He doesn’t usually invite himself to people’s houses on the first phone date.”

But Anthony only laughed. “Hey, he invited me up to dig for clams and go out on the lobster boat with your cousins. Sounds like a good time.”

I roll my eyes. “It is not a good time. Moon snail infestations are decimating the clam populations around our town. But Dad keeps forgetting that and going out with his bucket anyway. Then, he spends the entire morning getting upset about snails and how fast the world is changing for the worse.”

“Not always for the worse,” Anthony said, leaning in to kiss me.

We’d spent the rest of the afternoon in bed because…why not?

We weren’t closing on the property until this morning anyway.

Thankfully, that went off without a hitch, and as of ten a.m. today, I am officially a property owner! I already have a meeting with an electrician on Monday to talk about replacing the wiring and a crew arriving on Tuesday to work on the fire escape. Best of all, Sydney has a connection with the permit department, who moved the inspection of the attic space to the top of their list.

Assuming she approves my plans, I should be able to bring those units up to code with a relatively small cash investment and a few months of renovation time. Add in a moderate rent increase for the existing tenants and much higher rent prices for the one vacant unit and another coming empty in six weeks, and the financials are suddenly looking much brighter than they did before.

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