Chapter 21
Caleb eventually slows the car and signals to turn, and I finally tune back into my surroundings. We turn into a long driveway and as we make our way down it, I see his house sitting at the end. I know he is wealthy, and his house is large, but honestly it isn’t anything ostentatious, which I appreciate. He pulls up to the end of the driveway and puts the car into park, foregoing parking in either of the garages, then says, “Stay there, I’ll get your door.”
I take in the house as I wait for him. It’s a beautiful red brick home, and it looks more old than modern. The wooden steps leading up to the large front door with old-timey carriage lights on either side of it both seem to agree with my suspicion that his home was built in another century. I love old houses, and I’m anxious to see the inside.
He opens my door, grabbing my bag from me again, and leads me up the front porch steps. He quickly unlocks the door and I step inside as he secures the door closed behind us before turning on the lights. His house is stunning, and shockingly cozy. The ceilings are high and vaulted, what looks like original wood flooring. There is a beautiful wide staircase winding up to the second floor, which continues to what appears to be a loft area that looks down over the entryway. He guides me forward into a living room which is connected to a spacious kitchen. The living room is furnished with brown leather couches with woven throw blankets tossed tastefully over the back, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a fireplace. I swear I could live in this room for the rest of my life and die happy.
“Your house is *amazing*,” I say to him.
“Thank you,” he replies, “I’ll show you to the guest room and you can get cleaned up. Then just meet me back down here when you’re ready.”
I nod in agreement, and follow him back through the foyer and up the stairs. When we get to the top, I realize that what looked like a loft is actually a walkway, and I can see down into both the entryway and the living room I loved so much. This house is a *dream*.
We pass another sitting area with a large television and a couch that looks ridiculously soft and cozy, then into a hallway where he leads me to a door near the end.
“You can stay in here. It’s all made up and ready. There’s a private bathroom, and it should be stocked with anything you might need, but if it’s not please let me know. My room is just across the hall,” he gestures to the door right across the way, “Just give a shout if you need anything. Otherwise I’ll get dinner started after I get cleaned up. Is there anything you don’t like to eat? Or any allergies?”
“No, no allergies, and I am not picky,” I say, “And thank you, again.”
“It’s my pleasure, truly.” He gives me a grin, and passes me the overnight bag that I forgot he was carrying for me. “Head downstairs whenever you are ready.”
I give him a small smile in return, and head into the room I’ll be staying in tonight. Like the rest of the house, it is decorated in a way that makes the room feel warm and comfortable. Homey. The furniture is all solid wood, and the carpet and bedding is all in neutral shades with pops of blues and greens. I love it. As I make my way to the en suite bathroom, I brush my hand over the ridiculously soft comforter and wonder how much of a part Caleb played in decorating this place. Did he just hire someone to do it all for him, or does he have a secret knack for interior design? I laugh to myself a little as I enter the bathroom and turn on the lights.
My jaw slackens and I realize that I am going to have to take back my earlier statement about this place not being ostentatious, because this bathroom is insane. I think it might actually be the size of my entire studio apartment. It boasts beautiful but understated light marble floors and counters, a huge soaking sub, a walk-in shower with what looks like one of those rainfall showerheads that I have only ever seen in movies. Holy shit. If this is what the guest bathroom looks like, what the hell does his bathroom look like? Would it be weird to ask? Maybe. Either way, I am going to enjoy the hell out of this while I still can.
I pad all the way back across the bathroom to shut and lock the door, more out of habit than because I feel like it actually *needs* to be locked. Despite the– to put it lightly– rocky start to our relationship, I feel safe here with Caleb. It might not be logical, but I just have a gut feeling that I can trust him.
I make my way to the shower and play around with the knobs until I get the water flowing out of what is, in fact, a rainfall showerhead. I step back out of the shower, waiting for the water to warm up while I strip out of my scrubs.
*God, was I really at work just a few hours ago?* It feels like a lifetime ago after this hellish turn of events.
Free of my dirty clothing, I step back towards the shower, testing the water with my hand first to make sure that it is warm before walking all the way in. The shower is heavenly. It is well-stocked with high-quality shampoo, conditioner, soaps, and everything else I could possibly need, which I help myself to.
As I wash the remnants of the day off of my body, I feel a lot of my stress and tension go with it, as if it is being physically washed away by this over-the-top luxury shower experience. Even after I finish getting clean, I stay under the hot water for a while, not ready for it to end. Eventually, though, the hollow feeling in my stomach wins, and I end my shower, wrapping myself in the softest, fluffiest white towel that I have ever felt. I can’t even wrap my head around what it would be like to live like this every single day. Caleb is a lucky bastard.
I put on my sweats and tank, then take a few minutes to brush and towel-dry my hair. I don’t love the idea of Caleb seeing me in my full, no-makeup, wild hair glory, but the delicious smell of something garlicky wafts in and I realize I am hungrier than I am vain. Plus, I did promise him an answer to the question of his choosing. *Well, there’s no time like the present.* I sigh to myself, and make my way back downstairs to face my fate.