Page 70 of The House on Firefly Beach
He stared at her.
It was obvious that she’d put him on the spot. “Cat got your tongue?”
“I’ve tried to tell you,” he said.
“No, Nate. You haven’t.”
The skin between his eyes wrinkled in a way that she’d always found adorable whenever he didn’t understand something, but she forced herself to push whatever fondness she had for him aside.
“Why don’t you start by telling me about the lots?”
“The lots?” He looked deeply into her eyes as if he were trying to figure out how much she knew. Well, she knew it all.
“Yeah. The lots. How’s Colin Ferguson these days?”
His initial confusion slid off his face, replaced by a cautious interest. “He’s good,” Nate said guardedly.
“Anything you want to tell me? Maybe, say, how you and Colin are about to rob me and my family of our home for your financial gain?”
The confusion was back again.
“How could you, Nate?” She stood up to hide her emotion. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Usually, she’d flinch, but she didn’t have the energy anymore. A tear fell down her cheek.
He turned her around and offered her a tender smile. “Come with me,” he said gently into her ear. The fact that he wasn’t even the least bit defensive had her questioning his reaction, so she walked back to his vehicle. He opened the door and she got in.
Another few minutes down the gravel road led them to another clearing, but this one was outlined by turquoise coast, and sitting right in the middle of it was a brand new white farmhouse with a porch that wrapped all the way around the structure, rocking chairs on painted gray decking, enormous windows showing off the stylish beach décor inside, and an incredible view of the glistening gulf, its water lapping lazily onto the bright sand, a white sailboat bobbing out on the horizon. It was literally the house she’d always dreamed of.
Nate shut off the engine and went around to her side to open her door. She stepped out and tipped her head up to view the massive house. “Is this yours?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“For now,” he said.
She regarded him with questions in her eyes. It would be just like him to build something beautiful like this only to go back to LA, but his demeanor was telling her something else that she couldn’t decipher.
“Let’s go in.” He held out his hand, but she didn’t take it, so he gestured for her to lead the way to the massive glass-paned double door, reaching around her to open it once they had climbed the porch stairs.
The décor of whitewashed wood and textured fabrics was just as she would’ve chosen for herself, but then again, Nate had always had wonderful taste. They used to talk about what their life together would look like once the two of them had made it big.
“I want to give you a big, white farmhouse,” he’d said back then, rolling onto his belly, grabbing her wrists and pinning them gently to the grass she was lying on. He kissed her. “With a big porch going all the way around it for all of our kids,” he told her, playfully. He broke her hold, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck, making her flinch and giggle.
“Not until I have a big, fat diamond on my hand. You’d better make an honest woman of me first,” she’d said, giggling as he tickled her. “And we’ll be famous, so I want more than that.”
He looked into her eyes, that familiar smirk on his lips. “Whatever you want,” he said softly. “Tell me.”
“It has to sit right on the beach, with rocking chairs so we can grow old together there.”
“I can’t wait to grow old with you.” He rolled her over so that she hovered above him. He ran his finger softly down her face and kissed her again.
“And we should have a giant barn for parties. I want to get married on the beach and have our reception in the barn.”
“I’ll do anything you want,” he said lovingly.
Both of them were silent, speaking volumes with their eyes.
They’d never questioned it; it had always been a “when” rather than an “if.” From the look of this house, he hadn’t changed his mind about what he wanted.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked, tearing her away from the past, and the memories that hurt her to relive. Nate crossed the driftwood-colored hardwoods to the expansive kitchen that overlooked a rustic living area.
It was all so beautiful that she’d forgotten for a second why she was there. “No, thank you,” she replied, but he went to the fridge anyway and poured two glasses of iced tea.
