I never had that. I hope that’s what I’m giving to Finn. I hope that when I hold him, he feels home.
Pulling onto the property, I find myself searching for a sign again. This place has to have a name.
Shithead Slade’s Sanctuary or Twat Turner’s Town.
Yes, I’m still pissed at him. The truth is, I’m hoping Slade is long gone. I know that’s bitchy. It’s his home, not mine, but I’m still pissed he did what he did to Clay. I can handle my own relationships and friendships without him interfering.
Why did he feel the need to do that?
He promised me no more jabs, but he must think he needs to protect his male employees from the whore he has living in his house.
Employee policy. What a crock.
That was just the excuse he came up with.
Slade will always see me one way and one way only. I only have myself to blame for that. You can take the girl off the streets, dress her up, put her in a big house, but she’ll still just be trash. As soon as something starts to smell, you know just where to look. He can think what he wants, but I know who I am. Who I really am.
Just once, I wish someone else could see it, too, though.
Slade’s car isn’t in the garage, so he must’ve left already. I’m thankful to have a moment to myself. I’m used to my own company, so it doesn’t matter how much I love Catrine, I think I’ll always be most comfortable alone. It’s what I know.
My hands are full with Finn, the diaper bag, my purse, and my new dress as I struggle through the door, hurrying to turn the alarm off before it wakes Finn. Anxious to unload something, I toss the garment bag down on the sofa, then carry Finn to our room, placing him down in his crib. The poor boy is wiped out. He shouldn’t be napping this late in the day if I want him to go to bed on time, but I don’t have the heart to wake him.
Grabbing the baby monitor and the empty bottles out of the diaper bag, I head to the kitchen and immediately stop in my tracks. A new piece of furniture has been added—a high chair. And not just any high chair. This is the Cadillac of baby high chairs. Immediately, I feel my heart soften. Something is sweet about a man shopping for a baby, especially one who doesn’t belong to him. But another part of me, a bigger part of me, is still pissed.
Like a woman on a mission, I march through the house, unsure why other than to try to work out my frustrations. Does he really think he can just buy me something, and I’ll forgive what he did?
Of course he does. That’s how us whores operate.
His bedroom door is open, and I walk inside. The curtains are open, and I sit down on his bed, looking out the huge windows. Hot, angry tears roll down my cheeks. Why am I letting this man hurt me? My whole life, I’ve done everything in my power to prevent men from hurting me. I’ve protected my body, my soul, my heart.
I’ve never cared what anyone thought of me, much less a man, but even though I hate to admit it, I care what Slade thinks. I don’t want him to think badly of me, and it’s not just because I need this job. The man makes me absolutely crazy, but he makes me feel a lot of other things, too. Things I shouldn’t feel about my boss.
Running my hand across his comforter, I let myself relax on his bed, breathing in the scent of him. What am I going to do?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SLADE
As soon as I open the door to the house, I know she’s here. The energy in the place shifts when she’s here. It’s almost like the air gets sweeter. Shoving my keys in my pocket, I glance at the high chair in the kitchen. It’s still in one piece. I was a little worried she’d take a hammer to it. But I should know better. She wouldn’t be that wasteful.
The house is quiet, too quiet for a baby living here. He must be sleeping. Hopefully, Paige is resting with him. I can’t figure out why she can’t sleep at night, but she’s got to be exhausted. Maybe it’s the sounds of the house, nature, or perhaps it gets too cold or too hot. I wonder if maybe her mattress isn’t the best?
Contemplating, I head through the house. I was right. She’s resting, but not with Finn. She’s curled up in my bed, not under the covers but on her side facing the windows. Quietly, I walk over to her. She’s out like a light, her soft pink lips open just slightly. This had to be an accident. No way would she walk in here and deliberately take a nap on my bed. But it’s the best kind of accident. She looks absolutely exquisite asleep in my bed, just like I knew she would.
The one place she can sleep is in my bed? My grin is too damn big at that thought. A hot woman in your bed will do that to a guy, but this is a different kind of happiness. One I’ve never let myself feel with a woman. My control is slipping.
She shifts slightly, and I lean away. I don’t want to wake her. She needs to sleep. I don’t want her to know I’ve been here. It would embarrass her to know I’ve found her in here.
Resisting the urge to touch her, to crawl in behind her and wrap her in my arms, I simply take one last look then leave, walking to the other side of the house to check on Finn, who’s also fast asleep.
Then I head outside to wait. When I’m sure she’s up, I’ll come in like nothing at all happened. Like nothing is different when, in fact, everything feels different.
The sun is setting over my land. The sun’s rays are captured in the reflection of the pond, the woods already starting to disappear into shadows. The day is settling into night.
I love this time of day. When the stable hands have all gone home, and I’m alone. Only I’m not alone this time. Paige and Finn are inside.
I look back toward the house. It was a run-down, abandoned chapel when I found it. I really bought this place for the land, the pond, and room for horses. I never intended to keep the old, dilapidated chapel. The plan was to tear it down and build new. It would have probably been cheaper to do it that way, but at the last minute, with the demo crew on-site, I couldn’t do it.
Instead, it took the better part of two years and a shit ton of money to transform it. A lot of the woodwork and the beams are original. They’ve all been refinished. The cabinetry in the kitchen is all crafted from old pews. Even the old doorknobs have been repurposed.
Normally, I like things shiny and new. My place in Nashville is just that—sleek and modern. The ultimate bachelor pad, complete with a hot tub on the balcony. This place is different. It doesn’t look like it’s built for the same man. Maybe I built it for the converted man, the saved man.
Salvation—brick by brick.
The house in the city for the man I am. The house in the country for the man I want to be.
I’ve never had a woman in this house. Never.
Its walls have never heard the moans of my one-night stands. Its pool has never been the scene of midnight skinny-dips.
My converted church house has never had one single room christened.
This house is a virgin.
A virgin house sheltering a former . . . and her baby boy.
It’s hard to even consider Paige in that profession. Stepping into the stables, I unlock Whiskey’s gate. He actually looks disappointed to see me. It’s clear who he likes more. Can you blame him?
I prefer to look at Paige any day of the week. Wonder if she’s up? Patting Whiskey, I pull out my phone. I can check the security cameras in the house from anywhere with an app on my phone.