Page 25 of Forever & Always You
“What?”
I don’t even have to go on a grand tour of the two-story house to figure out that it’s full of gadgets and expensive paintwork. Much like his office, it’s clear Austin has a contemporary minimalist taste, because his home has the same monochrome color palette andeven the same fucking coffee table.The one I reduced to a pile of glass shards.
I spin toward him, almost accusatory. “I’m not doubting your abilities as a businessman, but seriously? How have you achieved so much so young? Three years out from graduating, and you have a successful career and your own house? And not some crappy house, either.Thishouse. Aren’t you supposed to spend your twenties climbing the corporate ladder before you see any real returns? You skipped a hundred steps ahead—how?”
Austin watches me in amusement out of the corner of his eye as he crosses to the kitchen, all black countertops and gloss white cabinets with a center island to match. Clearly, a recent renovation. “Suspicious? So you think there’s something unethical about me?”
I join him in the kitchen and rest my elbows on the island, leaning forward and wiggling my brows at him. “I won’t judge if there is.”
“No, Gabby. All above board,” Austin answers. He presses his hands to the other side of the island, furrowing his eyebrows back at me in a stare-off. “Wanna see the guest room? It’s yours for the weekend.”
“No glass tables?”
Austin grins. “No glass tables.”
He leads the way upstairs, pointing out the bathroom and his home office, warning me to stay out of there for confidentiality reasons, and then presents the guest bedroom to me.
“I’m not a huge decorator,” he says sheepishly, hovering by the door.
There’s a fluffy carpet that seems almost untouched, an inviting king-sized bed with a stack of pillows, and two nightstands either side of the bed. The room has an en suite, too.
“This is perfect,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed and immediately sinking into the foam mattress that contours around my body. “You’re doing me a huge favor, Austin. Youhave no idea how much I appreciate this.”
Now he’sextrasheepish. “You’re welcome. Gets a little boring around here on my own anyway, so I’ll enjoy you running that sarcastic mouth of yours.”
“Sarcastic, but not mean,” I say. We made that deal to be nice to each other.
“You’ll be kicked out of heresofucking fast if you’re mean.”
I pout. Sarcastically, of course. “But I’ve already claimed my new bed,” I groan, stretching out my arms and falling backward into the stack of luxurious pillows.
“Don’t get too comfy,” Austin says, reaching for my hands and pulling me upright, “because we have stuff to do today.”
“We do?”
“Important stuff.”
“Important stuff that you needmefor?”
“I don’tneedyou,” he says, “but I want you to come. I’d ask if you’re allergic to dogs, but if I remember right, it’s only cats.”
“You’re right,” I say, a smile stretching across my face, because he really does remembereverything.“Remember that stray we found once? We carried it from door to door, asking if it belonged to anyone, and my eyes swelled up so badly I couldn’t see. My dad ended up taking me to the emergency room for a rabies shot, and you left me candy in the front yard.”
“Andyou named it Hannah the Homeless Cat.”
I laugh, becauseof courseI named it. “I don’t even know if it was female. Didn’t your parents end up taking it to the shelter?”
“Funny you mention the shelter,” he says, “because that’s where we’re heading now. Only it’s the dog shelter, obviously. I promise, no cats.” He holds out his hand, palm up, offering to help me to my feet. Warily, I place my hand in his and let him pull me up from the bed.
“Are you .?.?. Are you adopting a dog?”
“Would you stick around if there was a resident dog at theoffice?”
“Yes, because you’ll obviously hire me as its primary caretaker, and I’ll feed it biscuits and teach it to play dead and it’ll love me more than it loves you.” I glance down and suddenly don’t feel so playful when I realize my hand is still in his. I lift my gaze. “Are you really adopting a dog?”
“I hate to break your heart, Gabby, but no,” Austin says.
I snatch my hand back from his with a scowl. “Boring. Why are we going to the shelter, then?”
