Page 34 of Ripping the Odds

The inside of the house was even more impressive than the outside. With soaring cathedral ceilings above and deep wood flooring below, Zak’s footsteps gave a soft echo as we made our way further into the living area. A gentle breeze danced over my skin, drawing my attention to a huge wall of windows to the left. Every other one was open and covered with a sheer curtain which seemed to breathe in and out with the wind. I felt nothing but peace.

“Besides this room, the first floor has a fully equipped chef’s kitchen, a formal dining room, a library-slash-den, and a half bathroom,” Zak pointed out. “Upstairs there are two primary bedrooms, each with their own en suite, and two guest bedrooms which share another full bath. There’s an elevator hidden behind the staircase to make the second floor more accessible.”

My mind was mid-gush over the fact he had a dedicated library when something he said made goosebumps break out on my arms. Two things actually. Elevator and accessible. I was already half in love with this man, but if I was right, he was going to own the other half of my heart as well.

“Elevator?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Did the house come with the elevator?” His eyes shifted down and to the left. It was his tell. “Do not even think about lying to me.”

“I had it installed while you were in rehab. There’s also a state-of-the-art gym in the basement. Your sister helped pick out the equipment.”

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why would you do all of this for me?”

Instead of answering, he scooped me out of the wheelchair, and sat on an oversized brown leather sofa with me in his lap, his arms tight around my waist. I wiggled, trying to get free from his hold, until something long and hard pushed against my ass.

“That’s why.” He raised his hips, grinding against me. “I told you in the hospital what I pictured for our future. Did you think I said those words out of guilt?”

“I wasn’t sure,” I answered truthfully. “That’s part of the reason why I asked you not to visit. We both needed to sort out whether what we were feeling was real or a product of the situation.”

“Prudence.” He smirked, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “My dick has been in a perpetual state of hardness since the moment you stepped into my office for your interview.”

My face flamed at his bluntness.

“The first time you put me in my place, the shell around my heart cracked wide open. My brothers noticed the change. They warned me, told me I was being ridiculous. I should’ve listened instead of wasting time lying to myself and to you. That’s all in the past.” He sucked in a deep breath. “You asked for thirty days, and I’m going to ask for the same. Move in here. Give it a chance. If after a month our arrangement isn’t working, I’ll help you pack myself.”

I was stunned speechless. When Zak said he might have a solution, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine him wanting me to live with him. It’s too soon. We haven’t even gone out on a date. How would this even work? Questions and concerns swirled around in my head to the point of dizziness.

“Would we share a room?” I blurted.

“No.” It was the right answer, the logical answer, so why was I disappointed? “I mean, not until you’re ready. Remember I said we could take it slow.”

“Moving me into your home is slow?”

“Slow-ish. Think of it as a roommates-with-an-option-for-more kind of deal. We’ll date, except at the end of each night, instead of taking you home, we just have to go down the hallway. Nothing happens until you say so, Pru. Plus the rent is cheap.”

“How cheap?”

“A kiss.”

“No way in hell. Give me an actual number.” Wait. Was I seriously considering his proposal?

“Fine. A kiss plus three hundred bucks.”

“That wouldn’t even cover half the electricity bill. Try again.”

Oh my God! What the hell was wrong with me? I was feeding into his madness, one spoonful at a time. This was seven shades of wrong. What would people say if I moved in with my…my what? Boss? Boyfriend? Jesus, I couldn’t even define our relationship.

He opened his mouth but paused, tapping a finger against my temple. “What’s going on in there?”

“What are we to each other?”

“I’m yours, and you’re mine. Clear enough for you?”