Page 33 of Landlord Daddy's Girl

“You like it?”

“I absolutely love it,” she cries. “But how did you do this without me knowing?”

“Maybe I’m magic,” I say with a sly smile, throwing something she said to me a long time ago back in her face.

She laughs. “Maybe you are. I had no idea…”

“That was by design. I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did, baby. You really did.”

Tears well in her eyes as she looks around, taking in all the small features I made sure to incorporate into the design, knowing how much she would love them. She finally turns her eyes back to me, looking completely thunderstruck.

“Slater, I can’t believe you did this.”

“You deserve the best,” I tell her. “I wanted us to have our own place.”

“We have the condo.”

“That we share with a hundred other people,” I reply. “I wanted us to have our own place and not have to share walls with anybody. I want?—”

“To be able to have the freakiest, loudest, dirtiest sex without anybody else hearing?”

“Well, that wasn’t my first thought, but now that you mention it…”

We share a laugh as I pick up my champagne flute and tap it against Sierra’s. She smiles and raises her glass to me.

“Welcome home, baby,” I say.

“I don’t even know how to say thank you.”

“Oh, I can think of a few ways.”

We both laugh again and take a sip of champagne. Then I lead her through the house, giving her the full tour and pointing out all the features. She soaks it all in and seems over the moon about it. She’s happy—ecstatic, really. It was the exact reaction I was hoping for.

We make our way to the back deck and watch the waves break against the shore as the sun slips toward the horizon. It’s beautiful, peaceful, and perfect.

Sierra turns to me. “I was thinking…”

“About?”

“One of those rooms.”

“What about it? Want to change something?”

“Sort of.”

“All right, what can we change?”

“I think we’re going to need to turn one of them into a nursery.”

I open my mouth to reply, but the words get stuck in my throat as what she’d said sinks in. My eyes widen, and I look at her, unable to form a coherent word for a long moment.

“A nursery?” I finally croak.

She nods and has a look of guarded joy on her face, as if she’s waiting for my reaction before she fully commits.

“Does that mean?—”

---