Page 9 of Forgotten Dreams
“Will do,” she says. “See you then.”
I hang up the phone and head upstairs to slide into a bath. After the past two weeks, I need to pamper myself.
I hear the soft bells of the alarm, and my eyes fly open. I’m on my side in the middle of my king-sized bed with five pillows surrounding me like a cocoon. I slip my hand out from under my head to grab the phone and turn it off. Before closing my eyes again, my eyelids feel like they weigh over a hundred pounds.
It takes a minute of me telling myself that I have to get up. My eyes slowly open and close before finally staying open. I toss the covers off myself, getting out, and slipping on my pink slippers before grabbing the long gray cashmere robe.
I finish in the bathroom before grabbing my phone from under my thick plush white duvet and walking down the stairs to the kitchen. I open the shades in the back before starting my coffee. The smell fills the small kitchen before I walk over to the fridge and grab the milk. Pouring the milk in the frother, I press the button and then put the milk back. I contemplate making myself something to eat, but I close the fridge. I head over to make my coffee, making sure the milk is hot enough before adding it to my cup. I bring the mug to my lips as I look out from the kitchen window, seeing it’s gloomy outside.
Heading to the couch, I curl up in the corner of the L-shaped couch and grab a throw blanket, putting it over me.
The phone rings in my hand, and I see it’s Rebecca. “Hello,” I answer, putting it on speakerphone.
“Sierra,” she says my name cheerfully, “did I catch you at a bad time?”
I close my eyes. Considering it’s after eight thirty in the morning, what the fuck could she think I’ve been doing? “No, just having coffee,” I say. “What can I do for you?”
“I have good news,” she chirps, “the offer on the house was approved.” I sit up, putting the cup on the coffee table. My nerves get the best of me. “The house is yours.” I close my eyes. “And I spoke with my girl at the top construction company in the area, and she is going to talk to her boss about squeezing you in.”
“Wow,” I blurt, “this is happening faster than I expected.”
“That’s a good thing. Welcome to Montgavin.”
Chapter 5
Caleb
I pull up to the house and park on the street, looking out the window at the house. It really is a beautiful house, but fuck, does it look like it’s going to fall down. I grab the clipboard along with my phone while getting out of the truck. Looking down at my steel-toed boots as I walk up the paved pathway that has seen better days. Weeds and grass grow out from between the joints. I walk up the three steps, the whole time, the building creaks, and if I didn’t know better, I would think this is a sign to get the fuck out of here.
The deck has to be sanded and resealed. I put that on my notepad before I pick up my hand to ring the bell, but the doorbell is hanging, and the wires look like something has chewed through them. I pick up my hand and knock on the glass part of the door. Shockingly enough the door looks to be new, or at least it was replaced in the last ten years. I can see someone walking to the door, and not wanting to seem like a Peeping Tom, I look down at my boots until I hear the sound of the lock turning and the door is pulled open.
I look up and see her blondish-brown hair blow back. “Hi,” she greets, her voice soft, her blue-green eyes lighting up with a smile. “You must be Caleb. I’m Sierra,” she says, and for the first time in my life, I’m left speechless. She’s hands down the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She extends her hand, and mine moves on its own as it slides in her soft one. I watch her hand in mine as if it’s the first time I’ve ever shaken hands with someone. I awkwardly move her hand up and down for what seems to be over a year before she slides her hand out of mine and it falls to her side. “Please come in.” She moves to the side to give me a chance to walk in. I make the stupid mistake of letting my eyes roam down her outfit. A long-sleeved, rust-colored, V-neck crop sweater falls just about the waist of her blue jeans, which are tight in the hip area but go loose on the way down to the floor.
“Thank you.” I finally find the words, stepping into the house and into the foyer. She closes the door behind me. “This is a beautiful home,” I tell her when she comes to stand in front of me. The dining room is on the left with a chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. To the right is what would probably be the living room, but the house is bare of furniture.
“I wouldn’t use those words.” She laughs, folding her arms over her chest. “But I think that it could be”—she looks around—“in time and with the right person.”
I look at the crown molding which looks like it is original. “This is true. Why don’t we talk about what you want done, and I’ll let you know if we can do it or not.” I turn to her and she nods.
“I’d like to take the wallpaper off,” she says of the old wallpaper that is peeling down in the corners of the room, “and I’d love to have built-in shelves from the floor to the ceiling.” I look over at her. “Maybe have those ladders that move side to side.” She takes a deep breath. “I want this to be a library.” Her voice goes higher. “I can see big, cushioned couches,” she explains her vision, but I’m lost in the way her eyes light up even more talking about it.
“You want a ladder like in the movie Beauty and the Beast?” She looks at me, shocked. “It was my sister’s favorite movie,” I fill her in, and she just nods. I make a note on my pad, trying to focus on writing and not how she smells of lavender and vanilla. “What do you want to do about lighting?” I ask and look up at the ceiling, seeing there isn’t one fixture. “I’m going to guess there is no wiring to put in some spotlights.”
“Yeah, I’m guessing they had lamps all over the place. Which is also what I’m going to have, but I’d love some extra lighting when I have girls’ night.” She does a circle in the room, and I can imagine she’s picturing what those nights would look like. She then moves to the corner of the room and points to the side. “When you walk this way, there are these French doors.” She shows me the doors that look like they are going to fall off the hinges if they’re moved. One even looks like it’s scratched the wood floor from being opened and closed so many times. I bend to touch and see how deep it goes, happy it is pretty much just the surface. “I would like to keep them.” I stand back up and move into the room. Looking to the right, I see it has a bay window. The sunlight streaming into the house is almost ethereal.
“What do you want to do with this room?” I ask. She walks over to the window and looks outside before turning to face me.
“I want this to be my office. I would like to have built-in storage.” She motions to the wall under the windows. “There, I can have benches.” I write the note, thinking how kick-ass it would be. “When I have kids, this could be their playroom.”
My eyes quickly go to her hands to see if she’s wearing a ring. My heart feels like it’s stopped in my chest until I see her hands. I literally sigh in relief when I see her hands free of any jewelry. “Are you married?” The words come out before I can even stop them.
Her head tilts to the side as she takes in the question that even I know is inappropriate. It doesn’t fucking matter if she’s married or not, but I have to hear the words. “Not at the moment.”
I nod. “Boyfriend?” I inwardly cringe at the question.
“Not at the moment.” She tries to hide the smirk, but it comes out in full force. “So, for now, it would only be an office. Then, in the future, when I get a boyfriend, then get married and have kids, this would be a nice playroom.”
“It would,” I agree with her.
