“I can’t make anything work, can I?”
“I guess that depends on what you want to make work,” Patrick said with a grin as he led me to the middle door. “Should I carry you over the threshold?”
“I think I can walk.”
As he opened the door, the afternoon sunshine streamed in through floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the interior of the apartment in warm shades of crimson. The room we entered was a large living room, complete with a massive television and a theater-style sofa. The walls contained a few large photographs of Chicago’s skyline, and yet there was little that said this was Patrick’s home.
A smile came to my face, realizing this was a multimillion-dollar bachelor pad in the sky.
“You’ve definitely moved up from the hole in the wall.”
Patrick grinned. “I’d move back to that hole if it meant I was with you.”
I turned toward him, taking in his broad shoulders, height, and girth. He wasn’t the boy who lived in a wall any longer. “I’m not sure we’d fit. How about we stay here together instead?”
The living room opened to a dining area, complete with a table and six chairs. It fit the room perfectly, almost as if it were staged. Into the kitchen, I followed and stilled. The cabinetry, countertops, and appliances were top of the line and such as with the table, they looked unused.
I turned toward Patrick. “It’s beautiful. When is the last time you cooked?”
He shrugged. “Does frozen food count?”
I smiled.
“Ruby was probably in diapers and it wasn’t here.”
“Mason’s wife?”
“Lorna is Reid’s wife, but my coffee maker gets used.”
I ran my hands over the solid-surface countertops and tall chairs near a breakfast bar. “I have a confession.”
“You don’t cook either,” he said with a grin.
“I don’t. I’m sorry. If it’s left up to me, we may starve. The only time I came close to learning was at the mission.” I spun completely around, taking in the windows overlooking Chicago’s skyline, the hanging lights, and tile backsplash. “I’ve never given it much thought, but I might like to learn.”
“Maddie girl, it’s up to you. I’ve survived without turning on that stove for nearly eight years. I’m sure Lorna won’t mind two more mouths to feed. Then again, if you want to learn, she’s the one who can help you. I can only teach you how to insert a K-cup.”
“Yeah, I know how to do that.”
Patrick reached for my hand. “There’s more.” We continued walking down a hallway away from the living room. He opened one door to an office. As opposed to the kitchen, the office appeared utilized with multiple screens and a large L-shaped desk with a big leather chair. There were large books opened and piled and a bookcase filled with what appeared to be textbooks.
“Light reading?” I asked.
“I like math. It’s relative in almost every situation. My degree was in business and finance. Working for Sparrow is consuming. Instead of going on for my master’s or doctorate, I decided I’d self-teach in what spare time I had.”
“Imagine that boy in the wall teaching himself…” I went to the bookcase and ran my fingertips over the spines. “Advanced calculus and physics.”
Patrick reached for my shoulders. “What interests you? I find the more I learn the less I know and the more I want to know. Have you considered going back to school?”
“My interests are world history and linguistics. I studied for years. It was with a private tutor so there’s no record, but I found it fascinating. I love to read…” I peered again at the bookcase. “But I think I’ll pass on Advanced Macroeconomics.”
“Are you sure? It’s a fascinating read. And that ending…I was blown away.”
I reached up and cupped his cheek. “I’ve missed you. Men like you are rare. You’re deadly serious one minute and joking about math the next.” My grin grew. “Which isn’t a funny subject.”
Patrick scoffed. “Follow me.”
The next room contained regular bedroom furnishings with a queen-sized bed. It also appeared unused.
“Why do you have so much space for one person?”
“Sparrow had this floor divided evenly for the three of us. All of our floor plans are similar, the furnishings vary. Honestly, if it wasn’t for Lorna, I’d have empty rooms. The truth is she probably got bored, especially before Araneae and Laurel moved in. Letting her decorate filled my empty rooms without thought or effort on my part.”
“Maybe it was more than that. Maybe she cares and didn’t want you to live in an empty apartment.”
“I was happy to let her do what she wanted,” he said as he opened the door to a hall bath. For a moment, he turned, taking in the surroundings. “I guess it’s been my home base but never my home.” His blue eyes met mine. “I hope it will be now.”
I knew what he meant. My apartment at Andros’s home was where I resided. After tournaments, I felt a sense of relief at my return, and yet it wasn’t a home, not in the Hallmark sense of the word.
Next, Patrick opened another door to a second spare bedroom and then one to an exercise room.
“Oh, I like this equipment.”
A glint came to his blue eyes. “I have other places and ways to get you hot and sweaty, but by all means, you’re welcome to help yourself.”
The last door opened to the master bedroom.
“This wouldn’t be the place you were talking about?”
“This is the one.”
Masculine colors dominated the bedroom with varying tones of brown. The king-sized bed appeared larger than normal—a California king. A fireplace was within one wall near the windows, creating a comfortable setting with a small gathering of overstuffed chairs and ottomans. The windows were more of the floor-to-ceiling variety, showcasing the darkening sky.
It wasn’t the furnishings or even scattered clothes—because the room was immaculate—that made this feel like Patrick’s personal space. As I stood within this room, it was the scents: fresh bodywash and clean yet fragrant cologne. Closing my eyes, I inhaled those aromas that reminded me of the man at my side.
I stepped into the attached large bath. Not even a towel was out of place. “Does Lorna clean up after you too?”
Patrick came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist as we both stood before the large mirror over a double vanity. We were a dichotomy, dark hair and light blond, petite and broad, green eyes and blue. And yet with him, in his arms I was home in any sense of the word. A hole in the wall or a million-dollar apartment—the location didn’t matter. The man behind me did.
Relishing the scents and sounds, I leaned the back of my head against his chest.
“I clean up after myself,” he said, his chest vibrating behind me as he spoke. “I’ve never been one for mess, and what I didn’t know when we were married, the army taught me.” He lowered his chin to the top of my head. “In full honesty mode, I keep things neat. Lorna comes once a week and cleans.”
I spun in his arms, no longer looking into our reflections but up into his blue orbs. “Is this real? Do you want me here in your home?”