“Thank God. I wasn’t ready to deal with a sad, brooding Owen. I had enough of that with Royce.”
“Sounds like a story.” I don’t comment on the sad and brooding Owen part. I’m sure she’s exaggerating.
“Yes, one I’ll fill you in on once we meet in person. I’ll get the ball rolling on my end. You coming home with Owen?”
“Yes.” I’m going home with Owen. Those five words elicit fear and happiness and hope for what’s yet to come.
“Awesome. I can’t wait to meet you. We’re on our way to balancing all the testosterone in the family.” She laughs.
I can’t help but laugh at her dramatics. Surely Owen and his brothers aren’t that bad. “Thank you, Sawyer.”
“You’re welcome. See you soon.” I end the call and place the phone back behind the counter.
“Layla?” His voice is thick.
“You ready to put those muscles to use? I have some packing to do.”
He engulfs me in a hug, lifting me from my feet. His lips mold with mine, and his reaction alone tells me I made the right decision.
I’m not going to let my fear keep me from fighting for what I want. I don’t know exactly what that looks like yet. I do know I want a better home in a safe neighborhood. I’d like a job that pays more so I’m not living less than a paycheck to paycheck, and I’d like to find a man to spend my time with. Maybe even fall in love. I don’t know if Owen is that man, but there is a desire in me that can’t wait to find out.
Chapter 11
Owen
Hitting the city limit sign for home, I glance over in the passenger seat, and Layla is still sleeping peacefully. Somehow, we managed to pack her stuff and fit it all into my rental. Even more astonishing is that I was able to convince her to leave her car behind. Ronnie is going to sell it for her and send her the money. I told her I have three vehicles, and that she’s welcome to one of them. I assumed she would fight me on it, but I think that she realized her car is still on its last leg, even with the recent repairs.
It’s all gone smooth sailing since the moment she called Sawyer. The further we drive from Florida, the easier my breathing became. She’s here, in my hometown, and we’re doing this. We get to explore this thing between us even further, and Layla, well, she gets to better herself. I want that for her, as much as I want her for me.
Instead of taking her to Sawyer’s apartment, I drive to my place. I want her there. I can’t explain it, but there’s a need for her to be in my space, in my home. I don’t take women to my house unless their last name is Riggins, or if it’s going to be Riggins. Layla’s different, and one day, I can only hope I’m that lucky bastard who gets to change her last name.
Once I’ve pulled into the driveway, I turn off the engine and unbuckle my seat belt, turning to face her. Her head is tilted toward me, her eyes closed, and just looking at her makes my heart race. I can’t believe she’s here.
Reaching out, I move her hair that’s fallen into her eyes. “Lay,” I whisper. She doesn’t move, so I lean in and press my lips to her forehead. When I pull back, her eyes are open, watching me. “There she is.” I smile.
“Are we there yet?” she asks, sitting up straighter in her seat.
“Yeah. We’re home.” I don’t miss the way my heart seems to stall in my chest at the thought of this being our home.
“Come on, and I’ll show you around.” Climbing out of the rental, I meet her at the passenger door and offer her my hand. She takes it with ease, and I guide us to the front porch. Punching in the code to unlock the door, I push it open and usher us inside.
“Wow.” She turns to face me. “You live here? On your own?”
I nod. “I fell in love with it. I added the outdoor kitchen and the pool, but everything else is how it was when I bought it.”
“Why do you need such a big house just for you?”
I shrug. “It’s close to my parents and my brothers, and I hoped that one day I might have a family, and we’d need all the space.”
“You bought this place on the chance that you would need it?” she asks, her eyes wide.
“I have four brothers, and if they ever need a place to stay, I have space. I’m the second oldest, so our younger brothers would come home from college and stay with me instead of our parents.”
“What about your older brother? Royce, right?”
I nod. “He was married at the time to the woman who wasn’t nice or right for him.”
This time it’s her turn to nod. “So, you were their place to stay by default.”
“Not exactly, we’re all really close. We’re stair-stepped in age, two years apart between each of us. We were a rowdy bunch growing up,” I say fondly, thinking about all the fun me and my brothers had. Still do.
“I don’t know how your parents did it. Five boys.” She’s smiling as she shakes her head.
“There was never a dull moment in the Riggins’ house. Hell, we’re all grown men living on our own, and there still isn’t.”
“Tell me more about them,” she asks.
“Let’s go on a tour of the house, and then we can talk all you want. I want you to feel comfortable here.”
“I’m not staying here, though, right? I’m staying at Sawyer’s place?”
“That’s your choice, Layla. I’d love nothing more than for you to be here with me all the time, but I understand if you’re not ready for that.”
“And you are? Ready for that, I mean?”
“Yeah, baby.” I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her into my chest. “I’m ready for that.”
“We barely know each other.”
“So you keep reminding me,” I tease. “Come on.” I lead her out of the foyer into the living room. From there, we tour the entire first level before moving upstairs. “There are four more bedrooms up here.”
“Five bedrooms,” she croaks, shaking her head. “Your kitchen is the size of my apartment back in Florida. This house…” She turns to face me. “…is incredible, Owen. So beautiful. You should be proud of where you are.”
“I am now that you’re here.” Again, I snake my arm around her waist and pull her into my chest. She fits there.
“These are all extra bedrooms. You’re welcome to stay in any of them or stay in my room with me. The choice is yours.” Before she can form a reply, I keep going. “You hungry?” I ask.
“No,” she says over a yawn.
Without a word, I turn us, and we head back downstairs. I lead us to my bedroom, knowing that the front door is locked, and kick off my shoes. “I’m exhausted,” I say, turning on the bedside lamp.
“I told you I would drive,” she says over another yawn.
“I know, but I was good. Now, I’m tired.” I strip down to my boxer briefs and climb into bed. “You coming?” I slide over to the middle of the bed and hold the covers up for her. “We’re just sleeping, Lay. I promise. Now come here. It’s late, and I know you’re still tired, you can’t stop yawning.”