My eyes almost bugged out of my head when he showed me the large library. It’s like something you see in the movies with tall shelving and row upon row of neatly stacked books. Several desks are dotted around the large room, but I favor the seated area in front of the roaring open fire, and I can already picture myself sprawled across the fabric couch with a blanket covering me as I savor my latest romance book. I will definitely make good use of the space.
Ben explained he is renovating the west wing, and it is off-limits for now.
“My master suite is on this level, and I had the adjoining bedroom prepared for Rowan. Angelo’s quarters are on this side of the house too but at the opposite end of the hallway,” he adds, keeping his hand on my lower back as he steers me through a bright living room. “This is our own living room,” he explains as Rowan races ahead of us into the hallway. Ben pushes a door open on my right. “You have a small kitchen if you need it for drinks or snacks. My staff caters all meals though you are welcome to cook yourself if you want.”
“What about upstairs?” I ask, as we haven’t been up there yet and I assumed that is where our bedrooms would be. This place is ginormous and about twice the size of my parents’ palatial home.
“I rarely use the upstairs space,” he says, shrugging. “There are more bedrooms and bathrooms up there and staff quarters for those who live in.”
We step out into the hallway, and he points at an elevator on the right. “You can go exploring any time you like. The elevator also goes to the roof garden.”
“Your home is really impressive.”
“I hired one of the best New York architects to design this place, and it took years to build. I wanted to ensure it met all my current and future needs.” His eyes drill into mine. “And it’s not my home. It’s ours.” My heart speeds up at his words and the intensity in his gaze.
“Mommy!” Rowan’s screams almost burst my eardrums.
Ben chuckles. “I think he discovered the playroom.”
I walk quickly beside Ben, almost keeling over when I step foot in the large rectangular room filled to the brim with toys and games. Rowan is currently jumping up and down in the ball pit, and I have never seen him so excited. The entire area on that side of the room has Velcro walls, and the ball pit is a corner pool surrounded by floor trampolines that are full of foam blocks. Ropes hang overhead to flip from above, and one of the Velcro walls is a rock climbing wall.
I am already imagining having to drag him kicking and screaming from this room most nights.
“This is awesome!” he shouts, throwing a few balls around the room.
Three bicycles are propped against the far wall, and I walk toward them, running the tips of my fingers along the shiny metal. “Wow. You really thought of everything.” I beam at Ben.
He shrugs, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “I tried. There are some nice cycling paths around the property and a couple of decent walking trails through the woods at the back. I don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck indoors.”
If snow hits next month, we might have little choice. Winters here can be as brutal as Chicago, so I’m not hedging my bets. “I appreciate the effort you have put in,” I say, touching his arm. “Thank you. It will make the transition easier.”
“You haven’t seen the best room yet,” he adds, lacing his fingers in mine.
“Rowan,” he calls out, jerking his head to the side. “I’ve got another surprise. Come on.”
Rowan doesn’t need any encouragement, tumbling out of the ball pit and racing toward us like a tornado.
Ben chuckles again. “I love how excited he is.”
“You might not be saying that later when we can’t get him to bed,” I tease.
“I don’t mind.” He tugs me out of the room after Rowan. Our son is sprinting along the hallway toward the next door. “This is all new to me, and I’m loving every second of it.”
“You were always good with kids,” I admit, remembering how he was with me.
“Now you’re making me feel old and a little creeped out, Firefly,” he teases, waggling his brows.
“It should probably feel weird, but I barely even remember there’s an age gap between us,” I truthfully reply.
“I agree.” He leans down and kisses me. “Though I try to forget you were barely out of diapers when I was losing my virginity.” He flashes me a grin, and I whack him in the chest.
“Don’t be gross unless you’re telling me you lost it when you were like eleven,” I say, quickly doing the math in my head.
“Mommy!” Rowan comes barreling out of a door just up ahead, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes out on stalks. He grabs my hand. “Mommy! You have to see this.”
I let him drag me into the room, and all the air leaves my lungs in a rush. Tears stab my eyes as I glance around the large, airy, bright, well-equipped art studio. Canvases of all sizes are propped on easels and against the walls. Shelves groan with paints, pencils, and all types of art supplies. He even has a pottery wheel and clay oven installed.
“That door leads to a dark room,” Ben says, pointing at a door at the far end of the room. “And the box outside holds some cameras and equipment. I know you probably have your own, but—”
I cut him off with my lips as I throw myself at him. My arms wind around his neck as I press a succession of kisses to his mouth. I’m half-laughing, half-crying, when I pull back, and my smile is so wide it threatens to split my face in two. “How did you do all this?” I cry. “When? How? It’s too much. I—” I slap a hand over my chest, and I’m feeling too much. My heart is fit to burst.
“Don’t get mad,” he says. “But I started remodeling a week after I found out about Rowan.”
I place my hands on his chest, stretching up to kiss him again. “I’m not mad. Not in the slightest. Ben, this is incredible. No one has ever done so much for me and Rowan. I just…I don’t have words to describe how I’m feeling. How grateful I am.”
His arms slide around my waist, and he reels me in close. “I want you to be happy here, Firefly.” He rubs his nose against mine. “I want you to be happy with me.”
“I am, Ben.” It’s overwhelming and a lot to take in, but I’m not lying. To have Rowan squealing with joy and me feeling every wonderful emotion under the sun after the day we had yesterday is all due to Ben.
The last of my reservations flitter away.
Everything is going to work out.
I feel it in my bones.
“Good.” His mouth lands on mine, soft and adoring, and I melt against him as he kisses me with more tenderness than I thought him capable of.
“Ugh. That’s gross, Daddy.”
We break apart and look down at our son. Rowan’s nose is scrunched in disgust, and a giggle bursts from my lips. Ben grins, crouching down so he’s at Rowan’s level. “Trust me, buddy. Kissing your mom is far from gross.”
“I’m never kissing girls.” He crosses his arms over his chest, still looking disgusted.
Ben scoops him up, tickling him. “Famous last words, Firecracker.”