Lost in La La Land(51)

“Are you mocking me?”

“No way, Emma. I wouldn't dream of mocking you.” He chuckled harder.

“Have your laugh. I don't even watch TV.” I turned us around and walked us back to the living room. The doors led to a spacious back deck that overlooked a huge backyard. There were several sitting areas, making it seem more like a fancy health club than a house.

“You need a pool. I know a guy.”

“Of course you do.” I sighed, contemplating the pool. “I do like to swim. Does it actually get warm enough for pools here though? Aren’t they mostly indoors?”

“You’ve lived here for years—have you seriously not noticed how hot the summers are?”

“No,” I answered flatly. I never went outside.

“They get hot enough,” he answered equally emotionless. I glanced up at him, lost in his stare for a brief second. “You look amazing, by the way. If you don't mind my saying. So different. So healthy.”

“I do?” I had hoped I would. If I were being truthful to myself, I could admit I had hoped he’d notice. I had showered and blow-dried my hair and put on makeup, makeup I had to have a private shopper buy for me since I didn't own a stitch of it. I even wore a bra that made my boobs look much better than the one Lana called my after-dinner bra.

“You do.” His voice changed, lowering and yet becoming rougher.

“Thank you,” I whispered, suddenly painfully aware of his hand on my arm and the rapid beating of my heart.

But this wasn't a story. This wasn't made up. It was real. His rough hand was really touching my soft skin and I had thoughts. Thoughts I shouldn't have. I was engaged to another man.

It was hard fought, and lost, but I couldn't stop. I noticed everything about Mike in a matter of heartbeats. His lips were slightly chapped, like he might be dehydrated. His eyes were tired, weeks’ worth of work had made bags under each one. His dark hair was shaggy under his baseball cap, unwashed and filled with dust from building me a dream house I didn't even know I had dreamt of. And yet, I doubted I’d ever found another man as attractive as this one before me.

“How did you redo the house so well, to suit me? You didn't miss a single thing.”

“I paid attention. Do you remember us going through the websites and shit, looking at décor, and I got you to use that site all the women love—?”

“Pinterest.”

“Right. I joined Pinterest so I could monitor what you were picking and the designer and I chose from that.”

“Thank you.” I smiled weakly. “The fact you were paying attention means a lot to me.”

“You spent three million dollars, Em. Three million. There was no way I was screwing this up.” He brushed it off, removing his hand masterfully. “I’m just glad it worked out. You’re on the mend, the house is no longer a rat hole, and my guys aren’t scared of being here anymore.” He laughed.

I smiled wide, wishing that moment of his arm being around my shoulders wasn't over. Something about his touch was better, it was more.

For the first time in a long time, this world was more.

“You were worth every penny,” I offered, hoping to sound indifferent, opposite to how I felt.

“Thank you.” He glanced around. “Me and the guys will be done for the weekend so you can get the furniture how you like and whatever. I had the designer arrange it so it’s functional. I don't know if you’re like my mom and have to rearrange the shit a thousand times before you’re happy.”

“No.” I laughed. “I love it all. It reminds me of a luxury inn.”

“Well, I’m glad. So we’ll be back on Monday to finish the basement. Shouldn't be long, I don't know how long though. We have some concrete curing down there now, so don't go down there. It’s still fairly disgusting. Oh, and I took the liberty of hiring the gardener full time. She’s a lady I know. She’s good and she won’t gouge you. She did the yard and garden for us. Looks awesome, huh?”

“She’s a miracle worker. To be honest, I never knew there was a fountain.”

“No, me either. Took some work to get it running again. You have a cleaning team of some sort, right? When the basement’s finished, this will be a fifteen-thousand-square-foot house, plus garage. I can’t imagine you two will keep up with that.”

“Let me guess—”

“I know someone.” He grinned again, his eyes filling with all the spark they had before.

A spark I had come to enjoy.





Chapter Twenty-Three


Captain Wentworth held me tightly, kissing the top of my head. We lay, postcoital and satisfied and yet my mind wandered as it had been doing for weeks.

I had been struggling to come into the story at all and fighting the urge to be in my world.

Not this one that I had made up, but in the real world.

Something was drawing me back there. My thoughts drifted to the house and the yard. I wanted to take a turn about my garden and be in my bed.

It was outlandish that I would want to leave this all behind, that I was frozen in thought, constantly overanalyzing how this had come to be.

This world, which had been my food and comfort and health for so long now, where I was falling into a type of love, an intangible love, with a character in a book, was losing its appeal. And though it felt real, there was still a hollowness to it.