Page 100 of The Invitation
Ripley: I can be there in thirty minutes.
Me: I’ll be ready.
Is this the right decision? I don’t know. I hope so. Because it’s the only one that feels right.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Georgia
“You live here? Holy shit.”I climb out of the car, not waiting for a response, and look around. “I’m … speechless.”
Ripley leans against his car, smiling smugly.
His house, a place I’ve intentionally never visited, is absolutely breathtaking. It sits on top of a hill overlooking a never-ending valley. The deep gray exterior is brightened by tons of windows that probably offer an amazing view even from inside.
“So you like it?” he asks.
“What’s not to like?”
He chuckles. “We’re off to a good start then.”
The wine I consumed earlier has started to dissipate. Ripley getting stuck in traffic and taking over an hour to get to my house helped. I’m still warm and blissfully happy, but I don’t think that has anything to do with the wine.
“Would you like to come inside?” he asks.
“Shouldn’t that be my line?”
He laughs, motioning for me to join him on the sidewalk leading to the house. He takes my hand in his, locking our fingers together, and ushers me into his home.
Immediately, a small Jack Russell terrier flies down a white stone hallway and launches himself at Ripley. He scoops him up, carrying him like a football.
“Waffles, I’d like you to meet someone,” he says, petting his back.
The puppy tilts his head back and forth as if he doesn’t understand who I am.
“This is Georgia,” Ripley says.
Waffles barks. It’s followed by a whine as he tries to jump from Ripley to me.
“Hey, Waffles,” I say, holding my hand out so he can sniff me.
He does a couple of sniffs, then he licks my palm.
“He’s a cutie,” I say, taking in his sweet face. “I see why you’re obsessed with him.”
“Obsessed?”
“Yeah. You were literally stuck in a cabin with me in a soaked white T-shirt and you were trying to call your brother to pick up your puppy. That’s obsessed. It’s sweet and a huge green flag, but it’s still obsessed.”
He places the dog on the ground and then grabs me by the hips. He yanks me into him, penetrating me with his heated gaze.
“Wanna talk about obsessed?” He grins. “I’m obsessed with you.”
Waffles barks at our feet.
I laugh. “You’re making him jealous.”
“Oh, I am not. He knows he’s my boy.” He bites his lip before a shy smile graces his lips. “And you’re my girl.”
