Page 19 of Mr. Brightside
His brows furrow slightly, his expression contemplative.
“My mom left me an inheritance—she died when I was three—but I couldn’t access it until I graduated. Things got… really bad… with my dad.”
I grind my molars as memories of Joe flash through my mind. If Cory pushes—if he asks for more details—I’ll tell him. But I really hope he lets me leave it at that.
“My grandma helped me out my senior year. I lived in one of the duplexes down by the bakery for a year thanks to her generosity. Then, once I graduated from high school and got my inheritance from my mom, my grandma helped me buy this building as an investment property.”
“You bought an entire condo complex when you were eighteen years old?” Those furrowed brows are accompanied by a frown now, his face screwed up in confusion.
“I was nineteen. But yes. Both my parents come from money. My Grandma Patty helped me get it all set up so I wouldn’t ever have to rely on my dad again.”
“Until now,” he retorts.
“Until now.”
The moment feels too heavy. I need to figure out how to lighten the mood—fast.
I reach out slowly, tentatively, and he doesn’t resist when I hook my pinkie finger with his, tugging on his arm gently so he turns to face me completely. Even once he’s staring at me head-on, I don’t let go. I run my fingertips over his knuckles, then smooth them up and down his hand.
“The view isn’t the only perk of this place. We have an underground garage all to ourselves, too.” I continue stroking his hand in what I hope is a soothing gesture. I want him to know it’s okay to freak out right now, but that I’m here. I’ll hold us together.
“The whole thing is just for us?”
I bite my bottom lip and nod. “Yep. The location of this building is so great—and the landlord is so hot—” I give him a pointed look to make sure the joke lands.
When he rolls his eyes, I smile wider and continue.
“That I can offer street parking for residents. I have a few cars down there, and a whole bunch of my dad’s classics, too. It’s nearly full, but I guess I can clear a spot out for my husband.” I give him a wink for good measure.
“What else?”
The curious glint in his eye spurs me on, and I scramble to think of what to say next.
“There’s a pool. I’ll only keep it open for another month or so, but it’s usually pretty quiet down there, and you can access it twenty-four seven.”
He gives me a little half smile that encourages me to keep going. Our hands are still touching, and now I’m leaning in closer, eager to feed into his excitement about moving here.
“We’ve got two full bathrooms—the master has a dual showerhead with a waterfall feature, and the tile floor is heated. I upgraded the kitchen a few years ago; can you cook?” I ask, genuinely curious about whether he even cares about the kitchen. I’m no slouch, but I’m no master chef, either. Maybe I’ll cook for him this weekend.
“I can cook.” He nods tentatively. “I like to bake, too. I just don’t like to do dishes.” He raises one eyebrow as he throws the proverbial ball in my court.
Could I banter with him and push back? Yeah, probably. But I’m on cloud nine right now. And I was serious about what I said when he first arrived: I’ll give him anything and do anything to keep him on board with this plan.
“Lucky for you, you’re marrying the best dishwasher to ever pass through the hallowed kitchen of Clinton’s Family Restaurant.”
He barks out a laugh that lights up my insides. I think it’s the first time he’s genuinely smiled all night. He has this epic smile—straight white teeth surrounded by plush lips with this super chiseled jawline. God, it’s going to be fun making this man laugh on the regular.
“You know I already agreed to marry you, right?”
“I know.” I encircle his hand in mine. No more teasing, caressing, flirting. I hold it firmly and speak my truth. “I’m just really happy you agreed to do this with me. You could probably get me to commit to any number of household chores or domestic responsibilities right now.”
That earns me another genuine, albeit small, smile.
“Speaking of… we have a washer and dryer just down there.” I point in the direction of the hallway that leads to the other side of the unit. “Then the bedroom and workout room are down that way, too.”
His hand slips out of mine as he pulls back and scowls.
“There’s only one bedroom?”