Page 58 of The Dare

I’m fully aware of that when we pull up and I can see the look on her face.

She's never been to the beach that’s less than fifty miles away from her home and never been in a place like this either, I’m guessing.

I’d be happy anywhere, as long as it was with Natasha, but this place is fit for my queen for now.

I can’t resist scooping her up at the front door and carrying her inside, spinning slowly so she can have a good look at the foyer and staircase before I give her the guided tour in my arms.

The place hasn’t changed much. Plants have grown in the garden and there’s still a million dollar view from every window.

The marble floor entrance still gleams, and so does the polished woodwork.

It’s classy, but apart from the size, nowhere near as over the top as some of the neighboring properties I looked at years ago.

Why’d I sell the place?

Well. I was here about as much as the present owner, and even though I’m big this place is way bigger.

It gets weird living alone in a huge house all alone. But an empty space like this now, seeing Natasha soaking it in, makes me think about how we could work at filling in the gaps.

Filling big empty rooms with our own family.

“You sure you’re not a beach girl?” I ask, noting her enthusiasm for everything inside as well as outside the house.

“Maybe as abeached whale,” she jokes, making fun of herself and trying to laugh. But I’m not smiling.

It bothers me when she says things like that.

Worries me how she could even think about herself like that let alone say it out loud.

“I was thinking more about the heat in the warmer months,” I continue, ignoring her self-loathing for the moment.

That’ll fall away soon enough. A few days of spoiling is what she needs. Build up her confidence a little more.

“That’s a little further in the future than I was thinking,” she laughs nervously, looking awkwardly away suddenly.

“I want that future,” I remind her, feeling her start to tremble under my touch.

“It doesn’t have to be in this place, on the beach or anything like it. It can be whatever and wherever you want, Natasha,”

She looks down at her feet one I set her down.

“I thought you felt the same way,” I say, not upset, but confused.

“On the train… When we...” I start but stop. She steps away from me and I spot her gnawing at her lip.

I won’t try to convince her of anything she doesn’t want.

She’s quiet for so long, but I don’t budge. I stand by her, waiting for her to tell me what it is she really wants.

How she really feels.

“What do you see when you look at me, Michael?” she asks suddenly. Breaking the silence with an edge to her voice.

I feel my shoulders sagging a little, but I don’t interrupt her or talk over her.

I’d rather she told me exactly how she feels than just play-act.

If it’s not what I wanna hear, I can take it.