Page 161 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

PETER

I put the truck in park and killed the ignition. The engine sputtered to a slow stop and the radio went quiet.

Katie arched an eyebrow and looked over at me. “Do I have to stay here or am I invited inside?”

I grinned. “For best results, you’ll have to come inside.”

She made an uneasy but excited sound in the back of her throat before taking off her seatbelt.

She looked cute as hell today. Her dark hair was pulled up in a messy bun and held off her face by a yellow bandana.

A few loose strands hung free and framed her face, and little sparkly earrings winked in her earlobes through her hair.

She wore a plain white T-shirt, jean shorts, and white sneakers with red laces.

Katie opened her door and slid out of the truck. Her shoes hit the gravel as I got out of the truck, and she hurried around the hood to meet me.

“Can you move any slower?” she groaned. “The anticipation is killing me!”

I made a show of taking my sweet-ass time finding the right house key.

“Oh my God, Peter!”

I laughed, dropped my keys, and played linebacker as she tried to race around me to get to them. Katie shrieked playfully when I scooped her up, spun her around, and set her down.

“Give me those keys, Peter! What are you hiding in there?”

She made a mad dash to get around me one more time, and this time, she was successful.

She slid through the dirt like she was stealing third base, scooped the keys up, and popped up to her feet running.

I broke into a run after her, grinning like an idiot, and caught up to her on the porch steps.

She squealed as I engulfed her with my arms and lifted her feet off the floor.

I carried her to the door and let her put the key in the lock. She turned the handle and we stepped inside.

Or rather, I stepped inside. Katie sort of just dangled in my arms with her back pressed up against my chest.

She struggled feebly and cursed at me, but her words were broken up by fits of laughter as she tried to escape.

When she finally fell still and looked around, she gasped. “Peter,” she breathed.

I grinned with pride and set her down. I’d been working tirelessly on the cabin these past couple of weeks, and I’d done it all without letting her get a good look at anything.

The last time she’d dropped by for a visit, I’d had to cover my entire kitchen with plastic sheets that painters used, claiming I was just protecting the elderly couple’s counters and cupboards while I sanded drywall and polished the hardwood floors.

But really, I’d been gutting the entire kitchen.

I stripped it down to the bones, applied fresh paint, a white tile backsplash, new countertops that looked like quartz but most definitely were not , and put new doors and drawers in.

Everything was fresh and white and the newly polished appliances almost sparkled in the morning sun that streamed through the open screen door that led to the backyard.

Katie turned in a slow circle, soaking in the sight of all the work I’d done.

The floors had been polished and stained dark to hide the dings and dents and scratches I couldn’t buff out.

I’d painted all the walls white except for the one accent wall in the living room, which I’d painted black.

I liked the contrast and I’d been in the mood to take risks, and after seeing the painting Katie’s friend Kim had sent her, I thought it would look fantastic against a dark, dramatic backdrop.

Of course, that was me being optimistic that she would accept the offer I had lined up now that the place was in better shape.

I’d replaced the dingy old living-room furniture with pieces I’d ordered online that hadn’t been delivered until the end of this past week. Everything was fresh and beige, and they were blank canvases for Katie to fluff up with accent pillows or throw blankets.

I’d put on new sleek baseboards and window casings.

I’d painted the tiled bathroom floor white and stenciled over top of it so it looked like brand new tiles.

I’d bought a new white shower curtain and even painted the tub with porcelain paint, and it looked brand new.

I’d buffed the countertops, changed the faucets, and replaced the mirror with an oval one with a black trim.

Katie moved through the house with a look of awe on her face. Every room impressed her, and when she went into the bedroom, she stopped in the doorway.

I’d gone a little overboard with this room.

The walls were still white, like the rest of the place, but the wall behind the bed stood out because I’d gone to the length of putting up palm-leaf wallpaper.

I’d painted the old bedframe and matching nightstands black for contrast. A dark green rug sat beneath the bed, and sheer white curtains hung in front of the large bay window that looked out over the front yard.

Katie turned to me. “Peter, this is incredible. How did you get all of this done by yourself?”

I shrugged and rubbed the back of my neck.

“Honestly, I’m not really sure. When I started, I thought I would only do the painting and the floors, and if I had time for baseboards and such, I’d do that too.

But once I started, I didn’t want to stop, and one idea bled into the next until I was in too deep not to go all in.

Besides, you had to pull some long hours these last couple of weeks and I had the time. ”

“It looks like a completely new house!”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I think so too.”

“It even smells better. Like fresh laundry and lemons.”

I chuckled and did not fess up to the fact that I’d bought candles and burned them before I left to pick her up so that it smelled nice in there. I wanted to make a good impression.

I wanted her to be able to see herself spending a lot of time here.

“It’s beautiful, Peter. Truly.”

“I’m glad you think so because I have more news.”

“Oh?”

I grinned down at her as her eyes flicked back and forth between mine. I clasped her hands in mine. “I bought this place off the owners.”

She blinked rapidly. “Pardon?”

“I bought it. This is mine. For good.”

Katie swallowed and her mouth worked as she tried to process what I was saying. “Hold on, so this means—”

“I’m not going back to LA. I can work from any where or be a handyman.”

Her smile was radiant. “You’re not going back to LA. You’re… you’re all mine? For real?”

I laughed. “Yes, I’ve been all yours since I knocked you on your ass in the market.”

She wrapped an arm behind my neck and kissed me like she never had before. It was desperate and hungry and grateful. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her back. We tilted backward and I braced us on the doorframe so we didn’t topple over.

Things had a way of working themselves out.

I’d never really believed in that philosophy until recently.

Buying this little homestead would have been years out of reach for me, but it turned out my father had left my brother and me a bit of money in the will.

Neither of us expected it or even knew our old man had any savings left.

We figured it was all going to paying for his assisted living.

But it turned out he’d always had some stashed away for us in case either of us landed on hard times.

I’d used mine to buy a home so I could stay with my woman. Hopefully, Mike used his wisely, but it was his call to make.

Katie spun away from me into the bedroom. “I can see myself crashing at your house on weekends easily, ” she said. “What a beautiful bed for you to bring me coffee in.”

I chuckled. “I have one more surprise.”

“Peter, I don’t know if my heart can take any more! This is plenty!”

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a small blue velvet bag. It was tied off with a matching royal-blue cord. I dangled it in the air and Katie hurried over. She snatched it out of my hand and looked suspiciously from me to the little bag.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Open it.”

Katie couldn’t contain her smile as she untied the bow and pulled the bag open. She peered into the tiny bag and her brows drew together. Her eyes slid up to me. “Peter, is this what I think it is?

“Yes.”

She turned the bag upside down and poured the contents into her open palm. A silver key fell out.

I moved toward her and put my hand under hers.

“I know it’s soon, and please don’t feel obligated to say yes, but I would love it if you moved in with me, Katie.

Every step we’ve taken together has been better than the last and I can’t help but wonder if it was meant to be that you had to move.

Maybe you were supposed to move closer to me. ”

Katie ran her thumb over the silver key.

My nerves went into overdrive. “You don’t have to give me an answer right away. You can take some time to think it over. Maybe talk to Roman and Ginny if you need to or—”

“Peter.”

“I promise there’s no pressure, and if you don’t want this, it won’t change things between us. You can still keep the key so you can let yourself in whenever you need to—”

“Peter,” she said more firmly as she closed her fingers around the key. “ Yes. ”

“Yes?”

She nodded. “Yes, I want to move in with you.”

My heart swelled in my chest. “You do?”

Katie laughed. “I absolutely do. Are you kidding me? Look at this place! I can’t believe how much work you put in for me—for us! I love it, Peter. And I love you. There is nowhere I’d rather be than right here with you.”

“You’re sure?” I asked. “Because I’ve heard those digs of yours at the El Cartana were pretty slick.”

She cupped my face in her hands. “They were, but they weren’t nearly as slick as you.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You know how to get my blood pumping.”

Katie laughed and pushed past me as she started inspecting the house. “We could live here for a long time, Peter. It’s truly perfect. Of course, I might need a bigger closet in the future.”

“I can make that happen.”

“And if we wanted to start a family, we’d have to push out this back section and add on another bedroom. Or two.”

I smiled. “Naturally.”

She turned to me. “And we’ll probably have to push out the deck, too. You know, for a little more space and such.”

I reached for her and pulled her close. “Your wish is my command.”

She ran her thumb along my jaw and gazed into my eyes. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Tell me if you still feel lucky after living with me for a month. I never put my laundry away and I have a chronic obsession with letting dishes soak.”

She giggled. “I haven’t done dishes or my own laundry in four years. I used the hotel services.”

My eyebrows crept up my forehead. “Four years?”

“Yup, so I’m still pretty sure I’m the lucky one. I’m just a damsel who has no idea how to do housework. Still want me to move in?”

“Hell yes. I’ll be the domestic one. I’ll bring you beers while you watch sports on the TV.”

She gripped the front of my shirt. “I love when you talk dirty to me.”

“Then you’re going to love how I talk to my dishes.”

She threw her head back and laughed and I reveled in the sound I intended to hear every day for the rest of my life.