Page 61 of The Proposal
Igasp.
“If you would’ve waited, I would’ve carried you over the threshold,” Renn says, shutting the door behind us.
“This is unbelievable.” I cover my mouth with my hand and slip through the bright living area. “Renn—oh my God.”
The late morning Australian sunlight floods the home. From the outside, the structure is beautiful but fairly unassuming. It’s tucked into the back of a neighborhood, nestled behind a group of trees. White siding peeks out from the foliage. A wooden porch that looks handmade and intentionally crafted to look rustic wraps around the side of the home, disappearing into the trees.
I had no idea, none at all, that the inside would be this stunning … and the beach would only be steps away.
The interior is bright. White walls, transoms over every window. Natural materials everywhere you turn, from the timber pillars to the hemp curtains and rattan lighting fixtures. Gold accents bring a luxurious element to the place.
A wall of glass separates the living quarters from the outside, providing a jaw-dropping view of the bay. The water is crystal clear, the vegetation is bright green, and the beach is so perfect, so immaculate, that it doesn’t even look real.
“Look at this.” I tug on a brass handle. The entire glass wall moves—sliding to the side, seamlessly connecting the inside with a huge deck overlooking the sea. “I can’t form words. Holy crap.”
“This is my buddy, Quade Kellaway’s place. We played together for a few years and used to sneak up here on our days off.” He leans against the doorframe as I venture onto the deck. “It’s quiet, and the folks around here really don’t pay much attention to anyone but themselves.”
“They’re probably too busy looking at this view.”
I sit on the arm of a wicker loveseat and take in the surf crashing against the sand. Despite my exhaustion from Las Vegas, plus the eighteen-hour flight, I’m invigorated by the salty air.
“I can see why,” he says, his voice entirely too sexy for eleven in the morning.
Looking over my shoulder, I take in his long, lean body standing upright. He moves effortlessly across the deck. Confident. Casual. Cool. Not at all like a man who’s dealing with a scenario that includes massive contracts, fuming parents, and publicists that have threatened to quit.I know because I eavesdropped.
“Are you flirting with me?” I ask, pretending to be surprised.
“Hell yeah, I am. I won’t be one of those men who take my wife for granted.” He stops inches before me, hovering over me as I sit. “I’m going to make sure you know how hot I think you are daily.”
“Well, I suppose there are worse ways to spend the next three months.”
He grins. “Just wait until you realize how I plan on spending the next three months with you.”
My stomach flutters as our old dynamic returns. The teasing. The flirting. The teetering on the edge of trouble. Only now, it’s not trouble. We’re married.
“What did you say to me on the plane?” I ask. “That something was very presumptuous of me? It’s presumptuous to insinuate that I’ll sleep with you, too.”
He lifts the hem of his shirt up and over his stacked abs.
I’ve seen Renn shirtless several times and been speechless each time. But to have him this close,alone, with nothing—no fabric, no person,no reason—to stop me from touching him, I’m more than speechless. I can barely breathe.
His body is a work of art. Crafted.Sculpted. Each muscle has been built with an artist's care; no fiber has gone unnoticed. His shoulders are wide, and his lats are thick. His waist is trim, highlighted by a deep-set Adonis belt running diagonally from his hips to his pelvis.
He smiles with his shirt wadded in one hand. His heavily veined forearm flexes, and debauchery swims in his eyes. “Okay.”
This man is so frustrating.
“But do me one favor, though,” he says, smirking.
“What’s that?”
He leans down like he’s going to kiss me. I hold my breath, my heart pounding so hard I think it’s audible.
“It’s not polite to stare,” he whispers before standing again.
I exhale, making him laugh.
“Asshole.” I get to my feet and move away from him. “What time is it in the US?”
