Chapter 57

As the weekend approached, I was excited. The job offer I had accepted marked the beginning of a new chapter in my life—one filled with promise, opportunity, and the chance to build a career I loved free from my father's demands. We were spending the weekend looking at houses that would hopefully be the start of another chapter in our lives.

Saturday morning arrived, and I found myself filled with nervous energy as I prepared for the day ahead. Sloane was buzzing with excitement too, her enthusiasm infectious as she bounced around the house, eager to explore potential new homes with us. She complained a little about having to do it on crutches, but I reminded her she only had a little time left.

Graham arrived right on time, smiling as he greeted us. "Are you guys ready to pick our new home?"

"Yes." I nodded.

"I'm going to grab my jacket," Sloane said, hopping toward her bedroom.

"How did the meeting with the realtor go?" he asked quietly.

"Believe it or not, she already has a few clients on a waiting list to get into the building," I told him. "She thinks it's going to go fast. I told her not to list it yet. I know how long this process takes. I don't want to end up homeless."

"You guys can stay with me," he said. "I'll probably keep my place. Maybe I can get my mom to move into it. I'd really like to get her into a better building."

I laughed at that. "Good luck. She would balk at the size of your place."

"Maybe I can buy her a house in whatever neighborhood we land in," he suggested. "She'd be thrilled to be close to Sloane."

"There's an idea." I nodded.

Sloane returned ready to go and we went down to the car waiting for us. The first house we visited was a charming Victorian, a stark contrast to our modern apartment in the city. It was grand and elegant, neighboring other equally impressive homes that lined the quiet street. Towering trees and manicured gardens added a peaceful touch to its surroundings. As we stepped inside, Sloane's eyes widened with wonder. She looked like a child who had just stepped into a candy store.

The high ceilings, spacious rooms, and intricate details on the walls and ceilings were beautiful. "I love it," Sloane breathed, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she hobbled around on crutches.

"What do you think?" Graham asked me.

I walked around, checking out the kitchen that was just a little small. "It's okay."

"But it's not the one," he said. "I have two more, but the fourth one? That's the one I'm saving for last. It's in Great Neck. It's my personal favorite."

"Do you want to go there now?"

"No, no." He laughed. "I had her give me something for all of us. The next one has a huge kitchen. I thought this one would appeal to Sloane."

We continued our journey from charming Victorian homes to sleek modern houses. Each held its own appeal, but none of them felt like home. In every house, I would walk into the entryway and imagine us there. I would see Sloane running in from school. I would picture Graham and me cooking dinner together in the kitchen.

Sloane's excitement was palpable in each house we visited. She would eagerly limp from room to room, always making a beeline for the backyard to inspect the pool situation. The house that had the "huge kitchen" was indeed impressive. The marble countertops glistened under the soft under-cabinet lighting, and chef-grade appliances gleamed, but something about it seemed too sterile, lacking the warmth of a home.

Sloane's enthusiasm dimmed somewhat at the sight of the minimalistic backyard and pool that was more akin to a slab of concrete poured into the ground. "It's nice, but maybe not for us."

"Maybe not," Graham agreed, taking in our reactions. After this, he took us to the third house. It was a rustic farmhouse in a quiet suburb. It had been modernized tastefully with large glass windows that allowed the warmth of the sun to fill every room. The exposed beams and open floorplan gave the house a homey, lived-in feel, while the sprawling acreage behind the house provided room for gardening, outdoor dining, and a could-be swimming pool.

Sloane's excitement returned in leaps and bounds as she explored the house. There was no pool yet, but her imagination fired up at the thought of having one custom made to her liking.

"This is pretty far away," I said hesitantly. "That's a long commute."

Graham nodded. "My thoughts exactly. But it's a beautiful property."

"Let's see your pick," I said.

On the ride over, I could feel his excitement. "Now, this is a big place, but it's on two acres," he started. "We would have lots of privacy. And it has direct access to the water. We could build a private dock."

"That sounds awesome!" Sloane said. "How many bedrooms?"

"Seven," he answered. "And five bathrooms. Four of the bedrooms have attached bathrooms. It has a formal dining room and a smaller one. The kitchen is huge. I think it's called a chef's kitchen."

As we turned onto a winding drive, the house came into view, and it was breathtaking. A blend of traditional and modern architecture. The manicured lawn looked like it stretched on forever. I knew immediately it was a little out of the budget I'd been planning for, but I could see how much Graham loved it.

Graham was right. It was big but somehow retained a cozy appeal. Sloane was practically vibrating in her seat. "Oh my God," she breathed as we parked in front of the main entrance.

We ambled out of the car, absorbing our surroundings. The house overlooked a large expanse of grass that led to the waterfront. Graham opened the door and led us inside. We stepped into an entryway that was nothing short of breathtaking. High ceilings, a majestic double-helix staircase that led to the second floor, and a grand crystal chandelier that hung in the center. To the left was an elegant parlor room with high ceilings and an old brick fireplace. To the right, a gleaming dining room with a long table that could seat at least ten.

"A chef's kitchen, come see this." Graham beckoned us toward the back of the house. It was spacious and bright, adorned with walnut cabinetry and granite countertops. A large island sat in the middle, surrounded by high-backed stools. State of the art appliances shone under recessed lighting.

"Wow!" Sloane gasped, running her hand across the smooth granite surface. "Look at the backyard! Look at that pool!"

Graham followed her out to the huge patio with an outdoor kitchen overlooking the clear blue water in the giant pool.

"I think we might have found our house," I said.

"I thought you might say that." Graham grinned. "I'll call the realtor and make the offer."

"Graham, we need to talk about expenses," I said quietly.

"We'll figure it out later." He shrugged. "This is our house. I'm not letting it get away."

On the way back home, Sloane chattered excitedly about all the adventures we would have in our new place. I couldn't wait to make it a home. It would take at least a month for us to make the move. Once back at the apartment, Sloane disappeared into her room to chat with her friends and gush about the big news.

"We'll have an answer by tomorrow," Graham said. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"I am. This is a good move."

"Do we want to start with all new furnishings or blend our things?" he asked.

"I don't think we need to waste a bunch of money buying new furniture," I said. "Mine is fairly new. We might need a few things, but there's no need to go crazy."

He nodded. "Why don't you come over tomorrow and you can see what I have? We'll figure it out from there. I'll hire movers for both of us. I know you're going to be busy."

"Mom, can I go to Todd's?" Sloane asked.

She was officially ungrounded, and I knew she was ready to hang out with her friends again. "Yes."

"Cool, he's going to be here in a couple of minutes."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's bold."

She shrugged and grinned. "He was in the neighborhood."

I laughed. "Sure, he was."

After Sloane left, Graham and I delved into the task of making a list of what we could get rid of and what we would keep. He was on the fence about subleasing his penthouse or keeping it minimally furnished for times he might need to stay in the city.

"That kitchen was amazing," I said dreamily. "It's twice as big as the one I have now."

"I thought you might like it."

While we were talking, he got a phone call. "It's the realtor."

He answered the call. I waited, watching his face, trying to see what his expression was saying. He ended the call and grinned. "It's ours," he said. "They accepted the offer and we're pushing for a quick close."

I got butterflies in my stomach at the thought of moving. "Seriously?"

"Oh yeah." He nodded. "Wait, are you okay?"

"I'm having a bit of a reality check." I laughed. "Holy shit, we're really doing this."

"We are," he said.

"Sloane is going to lose her mind," I said.

"In a good way, right?"

"Definitely. You're making her dreams come true. I intend to pay my fair share."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I told you before, I owe you millions of dollars in child support."

I burst into laughter. "I don't think it would ever be that much."

"Just don't worry about it," he said. "We're doing this for our daughter. We don't need to get into the dollars and cents. Let's just enjoy this."

After making lists and discussing moving dates, he suddenly got up from the table. "I have to get out of here. It's too tempting. I'm struggling to keep my hands off you."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He leaned in for a kiss. I didn't push him away. The kiss drew me in. My heart beat a lot faster as his tongue swept over mine, his lips soft and warm. It was a brief but intense kiss, leaving me breathless. He pulled away with a chuckle, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Until tomorrow," he said before heading toward the door. He gave me one last lingering glance before he disappeared.

I sat there for a moment, shell-shocked by the intensity of our kiss. Longing struck me. I wanted that man. I wanted him more than I ever wanted anything else.

Sloane got home a little later. I told her the good news about the house. She immediately went to her room to tell everyone.

I settled into bed, my mind going over everything I needed to get done for the move. I closed my eyes and there he was. Graham was in my dreams.

The longing I felt translated into an erotic dream.

We were exploring a lavish mansion, our new home. The rooms were large and beautifully furnished. Graham was leading me by the hand, showing me each room with a twinkle in his eye. I was completely aware of the heat radiating from his hand, the strength in his grip.

We finally reached the master suite. It was grand, bigger than any bedroom I had ever seen. There was a soft glow coming from the fireplace. He turned to me, pulling me into him. He didn't say a word as he gently brushed hair from my face before leaning in for another one of those intense kisses that left me breathless. His hands roved my body, igniting sparks that made me feel alive, vibrant, and wanted.

He broke the kiss, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I hope you like the house," he said huskily. His hands trailed down to my waist, pulling me even closer.

"I love it," I murmured, taken aback by the intensity of my own feelings. Graham led me toward the enormous bed situated in the center of the room. Ivory sheets and plush pillows waited.

"Come," Graham said softly, his hand extended toward me. With a sense of surrender, I took his hand, allowing him to lead me to the bed. The silkiness of the sheets against my skin sent shivers down my spine, a promise of what was to come. His hands were on me again, kissing me until I thought I would explode.

Suddenly, I woke up. My heart pounding and my body covered in a sheen of sweat. I couldn't wait until I could have him again.

Maybe I needed to rethink the idea of keeping our feelings a secret.