Damaged 2

Page 27


I swallow back down the discomfort and ask, "Where is it?"


"Far from here, at least four of five blocks that way." Sean points and the corners of his lips twitch like he wants to laugh. "I heard that second chances are hard to come by and I wanted to make sure that you guys got yours."


"You bought us a house?" Peter finally says, and sounds as shocked as I am.


"Why is everyone looking at me like I'm crazy? Where were you going to live? You needed a house, right?" Sean looks at Aunt Beth for confirmation, expecting her to agree.


Her eyebrows have crept up under her curled hair. She uses a tone that let's Sean know he bought the wrong thing, but she's gentle with him, like he's five years old. "Engagement gifts are usually cookie jars, dear. Something small. A house isn't small."


That makes everyone laugh. Sean smirks and lets the laughter roll off. "Fine, I'll buy them a bigger house for the wedding."


"No, no! One house is plenty." I'm standing in front of Sean, looking up into his face. For a second I think I see what Avery sees when she looks at him, but then the walls shoot up and it's gone. "I thought you didn't like me."


"I never said that," Sean replies.


"Uh, yeah, you did. You said something along the lines of 'I loathe you.'"


He shrugs his shoulders like it doesn't matter. "Yes, well it turns out that I was teasing. You have more backbone than most men, which is something to be admired."


"You admire me?"


"I didn't say that." Sean grins and turns away from us. He speaks over his shoulder as he walks off. "Take care of her, Peter. I'll be in the city for a few more weeks trying to wrap things up and save Jonathan from himself. That kid is going to get disowned at the rate he's going, and I don't want them trying to throw the whole heir thing back my way. Anyway, come visit whenever you want and bring your fiancée."


Sean disappears around the side of the house. After a few moments we hear a motorcycle engine rev as he takes off. Until that point, everyone was staring at each other like Sean was some sort of demented Santa Claus.


I let out a breath. "Well, that was unexpected and a little weird."


"Very. Sean hates everyone, but you won him over." Peter pinches my cheek and laughs as I swat him away. Making nice with Sean is too weird.


"He probably bought us a shack with an outhouse."


Dad speaks up for the first time during this conversation. "Last I checked, there weren't any hobo-style houses over on Sycamore. I think the guy really bought you a house."


Peter takes my hand and presses it to his lips. "Do you want to go see your new house, Future Mrs. Granz?"


"Totally. I need to see it to believe it. If Sean likes me, my whole axis-of-evil theory kind of got fried since Sean was the overlord." It makes me wonder why Sean erected so many barbed walls around himself. It's like he doesn't want anyone to give him a second glance, never mind get close.


The entire family follows us as we drive over to the address on the inside of the box. Sean had it written on the lid of the box in a fancy script. When I opened it, I didn't realize what it was. I thought it was the store where he got the key, not the address of our new house.


When Peter and I stop outside the house, it's so cute that I can't contain my excitement. It's a little Cape Cod, painted gray and white, with a big blue bow on the door. The front yard has been manicured with flower gardens like my mother had. Shasta daisies, impatiens, and big leafy hostas are everywhere. It looks like Sean copied her gardens exactly and put them here. I press my lips together as hard as I can, afraid that I'm going to start crying.


Peter pulls me from the car and walks hand in hand with me up the slate sidewalk to the front door. "The key, Mrs. Granz." I hand it to Peter, and he unlocks the door.


I glance back at the flowers and the fresh paint. "How did he do this so fast?"


Peter shrugs. "It's Sean. How does he do anything?" Peter takes my hand and puts it around his neck before sweeping me off my feet. I yelp as he picks me up.


"What are you doing?"


"Well, this is going to be our house. I have to carry you over the threshold. Or would you prefer to carry me?" Peter grins at me.


"I'll carry you on our wedding day."


"Deal." Peter carries me inside and stops. The house is beautiful and fully furnished. My jaw drops, and there's no way to take it all in fast enough. "Wow." Peter turns slowly, still holding me. There's a new kitchen, decked out with stainless appliances, granite counter tops, and the cutest bistro set I've ever seen. The dark floors from that room flow into the living room where we are standing. There's a fluffy white couch, built-in bookcases, a corner fireplace, and a huge television. My dad grunts with approval and finds a seat on the couch.


Peter turns again and faces a narrow staircase that leads to the bedrooms upstairs. "Want to go check it out?"


"Hell, yes. After seeing this, I want to run up the stairs." Peter sets me down and walks up the staircase with me. There's a small bathroom in the hall and a lovely second bedroom, complete with bed, nightstand, and a comfy chair. "This is so pretty."


Peter cracks the door to the master bedroom and says, "You're going to love this." I walk up behind him and try to peek around, but Peter pulls the door so I can't see. "While I was talking to Sean, I mentioned some things. I didn't tell him to do any of this. He figured it out on his own."


I laugh nervously. "Okay, now you're freaking me out." Peter smiles softly and pushes the door open. I stand frozen in the doorway. "Oh my God, it's beautiful." Everywhere I look is perfect. The room is soft colors, a very pale blue with big fat white moldings. The dark floor is stained with a gloss that's so shiny I can see my reflection. A big bed is against one wall with a padded headboard that has little jewels nestled in the tufts. A downy white bedspread is on top, and sheer fabric flows from the ceiling to the floor, draping the head of the bed. In the corner is an antique record player. I walk toward it slowly, thinking that it's a reproduction of an old Victrola, but when I'm standing over it I do a double take. I point at the record player. "Oh my God! That's real!"


Peter is walking around in the closet—at least I thought it was a closet, but his voice echoes. "Read the record label."


I glance at the black disc and squeal. "It's Benny Goodman! How did he find this stuff?" I turn the player on, careful not to scratch the record, and hear one of my favorite songs. "Oh my God, Peter. Could this be more perfect?"


"I don't know. You haven't seen this room yet." He sticks his head out and says, "Come take a look."


I walk through the small doorway, thinking that it's a storage room or something, and then gape. The attic was converted into a massive master bathroom. A white claw-foot tub sits under a skylight. White cabinets line the walls with big mirrors centered above hammered copper sinks. Tiny pale blue glass tiles glitter within wall niches, and a beautiful huge shower is nestled into the corner of the room. I stand there, staring.


"How did he have time to do this?"


Peter walks up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. "The obvious answer is that he started this the night he met you, but that seems unbelievable based on the way he behaved."


"Just a bit, yeah."


"I told him that I wanted to marry you, that you were the one. He knew from that night forward that I was serious about you." Peter turns me around in his arms. "This is a helluva present."


I nod and smile. "It means I don't have to leave Dad, and that me and you can have a fresh start, but what about a job?"


Peter releases me and pulls his phone from his back pocket. He taps the screen as he talks. "Since we'll be sharing a bank account, you should know our financial situation. Here"—he hands me his phone—"take a look."


I take it and glance down at the screen. I blink a few times, thinking that I'm seeing it wrong. When I glance up, Peter is smiling. "You said you were broke." I don't understand. He's loaded. Peter doesn't have to work if he doesn't want to, like ever. There's more money in his account than what Sean offered me back at the Ferro mansion.


"I said I wasn't the heir and that I was all right, and I am. I invested my trust fund and did well. I lived off my salary so this kept growing. I'm not as rich as Sean or Jon, but I'm far from broke." Peter grins at me. "I told you that I'd take care of you. Did you really think I had nothing?"


I nod and shove my eyeballs back into my face. "Well, yeah. Your living room was full of flakeboard furniture. It looked more like a dorm room than a professor's home."


He shrugs. "It wasn't home to me, so I didn't spend much to fix it up. There was no reason to, not until I met you."


"So you don't have to work?" Peter shakes his head. "But I bet you want to teach."


He nods and steps toward me. "Yeah, I liked being in a classroom."


"We'll have to do something about that."


"Actually," Peter says and glances up at me from under those dark lashes, "I already have. Remember how I mentioned that Jon's impulsive? Well, he bought something around here a couple years back."


"What did he buy?"


"A private school. He was trying to impress a hot girl."


"Aren't we all?" I can't imagine how that would help Jon impress a girl, but it sounds about right based on what Sean and Peter said about the youngest Ferro.


Peter laughs and says, "Jonathan Ferro Prep is about an hour from here and needs an English teacher."


"Is that so, Professor?"


He nods. "After my mother stormed off, Jon said he'd make me king if I helped him deal with Mom and his latest investment. When I realized where this school was located, I said yes. The only hitch in my devious master plan was if you wanted to go back to Texas or you said no when I proposed. I totally thought the turkey was going to eat your ring, by the way…speaking of the fat bird, come here." Peter moves to the window and pulls back the curtain. "Check it out."

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