I flip through the book, astonished at its quality and organization. “Ledger, I’m a horrible cook. I can try some eggs and bacon, but I burn that half the time.”
His eyebrows are pinched together in pure confusion before he responds. “Angel, you have 12093 recipes saved across your social accounts. What do youmeanyou don’t cook?”
“I don’t know, they looked good! I mean I’ve always wanted tolearn.”
“How did I miss that?” he mumbles to himself as he rubs his temples. “Pick out one of those recipes. We are going to learn together because I sure as hell can’t cook either. And choose something easy. I don’t want to burn the house down before you’ve gotten a proper tour.”
Laughing, I pick out an easy enough-looking breakfast casserole. I call out the ingredients we’ll need, and we get to work. It takes us longer than I’d like to admit to get the oven on, and twice the necessary dishes are dirtied. However, after an hour and a half of hard work, we have a beautiful, albeit slightly burnt casserole and some berries for breakfast. Ledger pours us both a glass of orange juice before taking a seat at the breakfast nook beside me.
“Bon appétit,” I say as we take a bite. It’s honestly not half bad. The eggs are slightly chewy from being baked too long, but it tastes great.
“Mmm, I only got one piece of shell in that bite,” Ledger teases.
“Hey, you were the one in charge of cracking the eggs, mister.” I laugh. “But luckily my bite was shell-free.”
“It’s perfect, love. Seriously, the best breakfast I’ve ever had," Ledger pauses and runs his hand up my thigh, giving me chills. “Well, second best.” He stops right before my pulsing core and gives my upper thigh a little squeeze. “Anyway, baby, you havetwenty other cookbooks in the cabinet. Go pick something out for lunch.”
I look back over at the mess we’ve made in the kitchen. “Can we just order in? I think I’m a one-recipe-a-day kinda girl.”
“Oh thank God.” Ledger exhales in relief. “Now let’s finish up so I can show you the rest of your new home.”
Chapter twenty
“Alright, where do you want to start?” I ask as Sloane and I put our dishes in the sink.
“What’s your favorite?”
I grab her by her waist and spin her around to face me. “Our bedroom,” I reply, grabbing her hips for emphasis.
“Well, I’ve already seen that, silly,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck and looking up at me with those beautiful green eyes.
“Hmm. I think we should go back up and spend the rest of the day making sure you got a good look at everything,especiallythe ceiling above our bed,” I whisper in her ear.
Her pupils dilate, and I know I could easily whisk her back upstairs and sink deep inside her. Unfortunately,I decide to be a responsible man and nottake advantage of her still swollen pussy. I do, however, take advantage of her slightly parted lips and lean down for a kiss before lacing our hands together and leading us into the living room. “Come on, love, we can start downstairs.”
I lead her through the living room with floor-to-ceiling windows made cozy by a large plush sectional, where a grand piano sitting in the corner catches Sloane’s eye.
“Your mom mentioned that you play,” she says as she walks over to the piano and sits down, running her finger gently across the keyboard cover.
Following her over and resting my hands on her shoulders, I run my hands through her long, silky hair. “I do.”
“Do you play often?”
“It’s been about two months. I find myself with much less free time lately.”
Every room of the house seems to make her happier and happier, and when I show her the formal dining room, she lights up at the mention of her hosting family events.
She gives my large home gym a cursory inspection but squeals in delight when she sees that half of the space has been transformed into a luxurious yoga area for her to enjoy. “I can’t wait to watch you work out while I stretch.” She giggles, and I have to stop myself from giving her a different kind of stretch right now.
Our double office seems to please her as well, especially when she notices her pink chair and pink computer. She flounces down in the plush office chair and spins around until I’m sure she’ll need help walking.
Finally, I lead her up the stairs to show her all of the bedrooms available for our future children. In the center of the rooms is a large, open space that will be perfect for a playroom or a game room when the kids get older.
“How many kids do you think we’re going to have?” Sloane chuckles as I explain to her that if we need more space, we can always add on to the house.
“As many as you’ll let me put in you, baby. If it were up to me, you’d stay pregnant.” I look down at my wife-to-be, playfully shaking her head at me. “Which leads me to this room.”
We walk into the last room upstairs, sitting adjacent to our own. You can access it from the hall as well as our bedroom. The nursery. I had to have some walls knocked down and reconstructed, but it's the only room in the house that’s still a blank canvas.
