Page 120 of Kismet

Despite tears stinging my eyes, a laugh bubbles out of me as I step up to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and pulling him in for a kiss. I breathe him in, not putting an inch of space between us for a few beats. I’ve missed him more than I even realized. His presence calms me, makes me feel at ease. Finally, after we reluctantly pull apart, he shows me the kitchen. It’s open concept, with so much counter space, and a massive walk-in pantry.

I’m speechless. This is easily the prettiest house I’ve ever seen.

He sheepishly looks over at me with his intoxicating hazelnut eyes. “There’s something I want to show you upstairs.”

Something about that statement sends fire through my blood as I follow him up the stairs to whatever is waiting for us up there.

Chapter Forty-Five

Stone Philips

Here goes nothing…

I’ve been meticulously planning—and quite frankly, obsessing—over this very moment for months. I don’t know how he’s going to take it, or what he’s going to say, but after his airport declaration, I feel slightly more confident it’ll go well.

When I decided to build this house, I had every intention of occupying it with Cash someday. It was a ballsy dream, considering we weren’t even together when I started the process. There are so many aspects of this house and the location that were decided with him in mind. When Cash first told me he was going to spend the summer in Europe, I was bummed, but it ended up working well in my favor, because I was able to ensure that every single detail I wanted this house to have, it would, without spoiling any of it for him.

He knew I was building a house, but he doesn’t know anything about it, and he doesn’t know I plan to ask him to move in with me today. Even before he told me he was in love with me earlier, this was always the plan.

We reach the top of the stairs and I show him around the master bedroom and the other rooms—stalling, but not really stalling, because these technically do come before the area I’m showing him last. I suck in a deep breath as we walk toward the room at the end of the hall. As soon as the door is open, he walks in ahead of me, stopping to take in the space quietly.

His eyes roam the area, and I hear his breathing hitch as realization dawns. Right before we came up the stairs, I showed him my office.

“What is this?” he asks timidly. “Your office is downstairs. Wh-why do you have two?” The sun is starting to set, blanketing the room is hues of deep reds, pinks, and oranges. It’s beautiful. He turns around to face me and his eyes are filled with unshed tears, and when he speaks, it’s filled with emotion. “Stone, what is this?”

“It’s your office,” I reply, closing the distance between us. I clear my throat, trying to get this all out without breaking down too. “I want you to have somewhere to write. Somewhere that is only for you. Where you can find peace and have the space to let your thoughts form freely. Somewhere where you can write award-winning novels and be at one with your mind. This room was designed for you.”

The first tear falls from his eyes. My throat feels tight, and I know when I speak again, my voice is going to crack.

“The windows let in tons of natural light, and this window here…” I indicate behind him. “This window faces the field. And this field is the whole reason I picked this property in the first place. The field back in Pullman, that belonged to my family, was my solitary safe space. I never brought anyone there because it was a place for me and my thoughts. When I brought you there, it became our safe space.” Unable to hold it back anymore, my tears spill over, falling freely down my cheeks. When he reaches up and wipes them away with his thumb, it just makes them fall faster.

“The place we explored each other,” I continue. “The place where so many of our firsts happened. And when I left after the accident, a piece of me was left back at that field with you. I’ve never been able to look at fields without thinking of you. When I first moved here, I would find random fields late at night when I couldn’t sleep, and I’d lie there and pretend you were there with me. Pretend your essence was washing over me while I was there. It felt like a piece of you was there with me. So, when I found this property, I knew I had to have it. I knew I had to buy it, build it, and make it ours.”

His eyes are bloodshot, cheeks soaked with tears. “Ours?” he whispers.

I nod, cupping the back of his neck. “I want you to move in with me. Please. I built this house forus, and nothing would make me happier than to make this house a home with you. What do you say? Will you move in with me?”

“Is that even a question?” he asks with a chuckle. “Did any part of you think you could show me this… this incredibly fucking sweet gesture and think I could ever—or would ever want to—say no?! Yes, of course, I’ll move in with you.”

Gently, I press my lips down on his. His hands fist the shirt on my sides as he opens for me. When my tongue dips inside, the saltiness from his tears mixes with a taste that is just sohim. He moans into my mouth before sucking on my tongue, causing a shiver to race through me.

We get lost in each other for a minute, tongues tangling and tasting one another, hands roaming all around our bodies, only stopping once we need to come up for air. As we pull apart, Houston strolls into the room with tiny Whitney trailing behind him, as curious as ever.

Cash’s whole face lights up when he sees them, and he immediately kneels down. “Houston, I missed you, little guy.” His baby voice warms my heart. “I hear you got a new friend, buddy. Is that true?”

His attention moves to Whitney as she rubs her wrinkly body against his leg. “Look at you, sweet girl. Your eyes are two different colors. How special are you, princess?” He looks up at me, a smile so bright on his face, you can see it in his eyes.

“Like her?” I ask, kneeling down to get on his level.

“Yes, she’s adorable. And she and Houston have been getting along still?”

“Yeah. They fight just like any cats would, but it’s playful. They fall asleep together every night.”

“Thank you, Stone. Seriously. Just… thank you,” he gushes while holding Whitney in his arms like a baby, rubbing her belly. There’s no doubt she loves it; she’s purring so damn loud.

“No need to thank me, baby. Want to go see the field?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely, I do. Let’s go.” He stands, placing Whitney back onto the ground. “You guys gotta stay here. Daddy and daddy gotta go outside for a bit.”

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