“Like maybe an ex-wife and some kids you haven’t told me about?”
He laughed and unbuckled his seat belt. “No. Just thinking about the future. I don’t intend to house hop. I figured at some point I’ll get married and have some kids. This seems like a good place to do that.”
Katrina gaped at the house, the big front yard and the impressive neighborhood. Living in Manhattan, space was always at a premium. She loved her apartment, and it was spacious by New York City standards, but this was spectacular.
It was a two-story stone house with a dark roof. There were a lot of windows flanked by gorgeous white shutters. It was huge, yet welcoming at the same time. The front yard was immense, with a lot of lush green grass, tall trees, and shrubs.
“Did you do all this landscaping?” she asked as he walked with her to the front door.
“Some of it. My mom suggested the flowers after I moved in. She said the front landscaping needed some color or something like that. She and my sister ordered them and had them delivered, and my dad and brothers and I put them in.”
“Your mother is right. It would have looked barren without some color.”
“Yeah, so they told me—repeatedly.” He hit the button on the garage door, which lifted to reveal a big truck in the garage.
She looked at the truck, then over at him. “Yes, you strike me as a truck guy.”
“What exactly is a ‘truck guy’?”
“Manly. Testosterone. That kind of thing.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
She smiled. “You do that.”
He led her through a door into the house, which was so much cooler than outside.
It smelled like cleaning products—piney and lemony. He must have cleaned today before coming to pick her up.
How sweet.
And utterly unexpected.
Inside was spacious and light, with a lot of windows and very cool tile. The kitchen was magnificent—definitely a cook’s paradise, with a large island and a six-burner stove.
The living area was the same, with amazing dark hardwood floors, and windows overlooking a woodsy backyard.
And, oh, God, a pool.
She turned to him, grasping his arm. “You have a pool.”
“Yeah.”
“Can we go see it?”
“Don’t you want to see the rest of the house first?”
“No.”
With a quirk of his lips, he nodded. “Okay. Let’s go out back and see the pool. There are two entrances out back. One through the living room, which is actually a side yard. There’s another way, down the stairs and through the laundry slash mudroom.”
He took her down the stairs and, dear God, this room was as big as the entire main living area in her apartment. It was a laundry room, but also a prep area for the pool. The floor was tiled, and there were open cupboards holding beach towels and a vast array of pool paraphernalia, with a laundry prep area as well.
“Wow.”
“It was a big selling point for me. People can come in here and use the bathroom, and it doesn’t muck up the rest of the house. Plus lots of storage for the pool stuff.”
“It’s amazing.”
“Thanks. I agree.”
They went out the door and it led onto a huge covered patio. He had a few tables and chairs, but there was potential for so much more.
The pool, however, was magnificent, surrounded by smooth rocks, with a waterfall and a slide. There was an attached hot tub as well, which was simply gorgeous.
The pool was huge and inviting. The yard surrounding and beyond was lush and green with mature trees farther back in a wooded area. She wanted to strip and dive into the pool, then spend the remainder of the day there.
“I forgot to mention the pool so you could bring your suit. We’ll do that tomorrow.”
She wanted to tell him she wasn’t coming over tomorrow, but after seeing this pool, how could she not? It was entirely too tempting. Like the man who lived here.
“It’s really lovely out here. I imagine you spend your entire summer in the pool.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty great. I enjoy it a lot. But you have a pool at your apartment, don’t you?”
“It’s an indoor pool. Not even close to being the same thing. This is outside, where it’s warm. And just steps from your house. It’s so private.” Whereas she had to share their pool with everyone in the building. No privacy. No sunshine. No fresh air.
If she lived in a house—and really, what must that be like—she’d be out here first thing every morning with her coffee, watching the birds and the butterflies and listening to the sounds of nature, then swimming a few laps before breakfast.
“You could take a dip now if you want to.”
He had moved behind her, and laid his hands on her shoulders. The warmth of them seared through her.
She tilted her head back to look up at him. “No suit, remember?”
“Oh, I remember. But I have a lot of privacy. No one will see you. Except me, of course. And it’s not like I’d complain.”