Page 84 of His Toy

Sweet? Did she know who she was talking about?

But I knew, deep down, that if anyone knew me, it was Heather.

“Don’t tell anyone,” I said.

***

After moving Hazel and Grant into an apartment, Heather and I headed to the Mojave National Preserve in California. Desert stretched beyond us in every direction. Cacti popped from the surface. A lizard skittered, taking shelter in a dry bush. As I looked around, questions took my mind. Would Heather get tired of being surrounded by desert, living with me? Was the Mojave National Preserve any different than our home in the woods of Mount Charleston?

But then Heather’s gaze took hold of the desert, the sun rising in the distance. A smile crossed her lips.

No. She wouldn’t get tired of it.

Still,our homestuck out in my mind. Our home. A home was what Heather had been searching for her entire life. She had thought she would find peace with the answer to her parents’ deaths, that her search would end with Hazel. But in the end, she had found it with me, a stranger who tried to protect her by asking her to stay away, by making her leave.

And in the end, that stubborn woman, despite her better interests, stayed.

I couldn’t promise Heather a life of perfect safety. My profession had given me enemies over the years, and even with the worst of it behind us, she would still have to deal with the occasional potential threat.

Perhaps I would sell the company. Use part of the money to start a nonprofit with the sole purpose to actually help those in need of protection, not just shady, criminal billionaires with deep pockets. But a non-profit wasn’t my style. I would think of something. Perhaps work again, word of mouth, only for those in need.

And I could use the money from selling the company to build the perfect home for Heather.

We hiked a trail in a comfortable silence. Heather led the way. Every once in a while, she turned to me and smiled, and with that look, I’d instantly catch what she wanted to share. A deer prancing through the grass, disappearing behind a boulder. A hawk soaring through the cloudless sky. The crunch of our feet on the terrain, the fresh air on our cheeks, the grin on Heather’s face, her delighted peace—all of it was a welcome change.

My collar clung to her neck.

Mine.

We took shade near a boulder. After we drank water, I put an arm around her shoulder. Her perspiring skin was cool to the touch.

“How many bedrooms?” I asked. We could start there. She cocked her head to the side, so I repeated the question. “How many bedrooms do you want?”

“How many bedrooms do I want?”

“In your ideal home,” I said, carefully choosing my words. “What do you want?”

“Are you asking me if I want to make a home together?”

I kissed her lips, savoring the touch, relishing in it, knowing that there wasn’t another woman in the world like Heather, and damn it, it felt good to know that she was mine. My toy. My woman. My partner. She was mine, all mine. And I was hers.

“I will build you the home you’ve always dreamed of,” I said. “I will give you everything you want.”

She brushed my cheek with her fingertips. The desert sun had left a blush on her, a subtle tan starting to outline her shoulders where the shirt clung to her skin. She would look gorgeous with a tan line.

It had been a while since I had tied her up. There was rope coiled in my pocket, ready to use. But that would wait. For now, this was Heather’s time. We would do whatever she pleased. And I would take what was mine later.

“It’s taken me a long time to realize this, but home isn’t a place,” she said. She locked eyes with me. Those blue-green emeralds were worth more than anything I had ever encountered. I would risk my life to make sure they were never harmed again. “It’s a feeling,” she continued. “It doesn’t matter where I am. A hotel, a casino, lost in the woods, in the Valley of Fire, wandering the Mojave,” she gestured around us, “or in a prison basement about to murder a criminal. Even if the world sucks, even if everything is going against us, when I’m with you,” she squeezed my hand, “when I’mhome, I know everything’s going to be alright.”

I pulled her into my arms. Her chest moved at an even rhythm, our heartbeats in sync. She was at peace. Nothing bothered her in that moment.

I couldn’t build her the perfect house, but I could make sure she felt this way, that she felt content, happy, at peace, forever. She deserved nothing less.