Never Giving Up (Never #3)

Porter looked at me and smiled. “No, they’ve caught the man who shot Ella. I think we’re going to drive home alone tonight.”


“That’s wonderful news, Sir. Ma’am, I’m happy to hear he’s been caught. Have a good evening.” With that Chad walked away and Porter and I were alone, in the evening, not in our house, for the first time in weeks. It shouldn’t have felt foreign, but it did. To just be the two of us was a novelty. I leaned into him and heard him breathe in a content breath.

“Let’s go home,” he said into my hair, making me smile.

“That sounds fantastic,” I said into his chest. When we pulled up to our house, there was no police cruiser parked down the street and I reveled in the feeling of safeness I felt in that moment. Perhaps we were going to be ok.





My nerves spiked as Porter drove us down the gravel driveway that would lead us to our house. In the past weeks, I knew the house was getting closer to being complete, but Porter had many warnings of insulation and paint fumes and kept me off the property. I trusted him to build us an incredible house, so I wasn’t nervous about being kept out of the loop on decisions. Hell, if we could have just transplanted the beach house right here on our twenty acres on the outskirts of Salem, I would have. But if Porter could build a house that beautiful on his own, he didn’t need me meddling in the process.

So I let him design, build, and construct our house, only offering opinions when asked. Houses were his forte so I intended to let him shine. I knew I’d love whatever he conjured up and that notion extended to every aspect of our life. However, when his truck pulled around the bend in the road and our house came into view, there was nothing in my imagination that could have prepared me for the beauty of the structure.

“Oh my God, Porter!” I exclaimed, simply stunned by the finished product.

“You like it?”

My head snapped to the side to look at him.

“Like it? Porter, it’s incredible!”

“Ok, well, this is just the outside. I hope you like the inside too.”

My eyes took in the massive structure. Obviously, I had seen the house in its unfinished form, but not for a month or two. The driveway was circular and led up to the front of the house. There was a side road that led to the back of the house where I knew there was a three-car garage. The house was two stories tall and boasted tall arched accents with exposed beams. The wooden beams stood out against the warm yellow paint and cool-colored stonework that encased the bottom of the house.

The front door was wooden and matched the beams in color, a nearly red chestnut, and small path lights led you from the driveway right to the magnificent door.

Porter parked his truck and came around to open the door for me, lending me his hand, knowing full well that my equilibrium was off-kilter with the big, protruding baby belly I was now sporting. He helped me from the truck, but didn’t release my hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over my knuckles as we walked towards the house.

“It’s so beautiful, Porter. I can’t believe we get to live here.”

“It’s ready to go, all finished, we could move in tomorrow if we wanted.”

“Really?” My excitement was palpable. This would be our first real home together and I couldn’t wait to start the new chapter of our lives.

When we reached the front door he opened it but stopped me before I could go in. I laughed and yelped as he bent down and picked me up, one arm under my knees, the other behind my shoulders, carrying me over the threshold. When he put me down, all I could do was gawk at the gorgeous house. It reminded me a lot of the beach house with its open floor plan, but it was different still, newer and a little more modern. Where the beach house felt much like a beach house, this structure had more of a country feel.

The front door opened into an entryway with a built-in hall tree that I wanted to run my hands over. I could tell from looking at them that Porter had built them. He pulled me by the hand through the hallway and we entered into one great big room that was the living room, family room, and kitchen all combined into one.

Between the kitchen and the family room was a big island that had a tall counter that served as a breakfast bar. All the cabinets were the same wood that the beams outside were made of and the chestnut color was warm and comfortable. The kitchen boasted stainless steel appliances and I itched to cook in this kitchen.

“This is so incredible.” I spun around slowly, trying to take it all in. “And so big.”

“It’ll shrink down a little once we get some furniture in here. Come on,” he said, tugging on my hand, leading me up the stairs, “I’ve got something to show you.”

Anie Michaels's books