I should be nervous, but as we head up the long, circular drive, I find myself more in awe at the Victorian home in front of me than anything else.
“You said we were going to a cottage.” My jaw is slack as I stare up at the three-story mansion with a four-car garage and, if I’m correct, a lakefront view.
“Yeah, the term is a bit deceiving. It’s our family home outside of the city.”
“Well, this certainly makes an impression.”
He quirks a brow. “Are you saying you’re now only interested in me for my family’s money?”
I nod my head as I continue to stare at the shaker-style shingles and bright white molding around the windows. “You’re lucky you have a big dick because that’s the only thing more impressive than this house.”
He blanches for a second as I step out of the car. “Wait. You can’t drop the ‘big dick’ comment and then just walk out like that!”
With a laugh, I head to the back of the car to get my bag. “You bring girls here a lot?”
“I have, but I usually wait until we’re a few months in. I wouldn’t want her more impressed with the house than my cock,” he teases.
I shake my head and kiss him on the lips. “Just so you know, you have nothing to worry about with me. You had me at the seafoam-green towel. Everything after that is gravy.”
I walk toward the front door and hear him cheer behind me, “I knew it!”
We walk into the cottage together. The inside is equally as impressive as the outside with a two-story entry with floor-to-ceiling wainscoting and a large living room ahead with wall-to-wall windows overlooking a patio that’s filled with people.
“She’s here!” a girl’s voice calls out from the patio.
Two girls, about my age, walk toward us.
“You have no idea how excited we are to finally meet you,” one says.
“Yes, we were starting to think this guy was pulling our leg and you didn’t really live next door to him,” the other adds.
“Lacey, these are my sisters, Tweedledee and Tweedledum,” Jake says with a smirk.
They slap his arms as they hug him from either side.
“Good to see you too, bro,” a woman with long light-blonde hair and porcelain skin says to him and then leans into me for a hug. “I’m Milène.”
“And I’m Penelope.” The other sister with shorter, curlier hair bounces to me. “Come on in. We have a bottle of wine open with your name on it.”
I smile at Jake as he winks and then heads into the kitchen, where his mom is preparing food.
The deck in the back of the house sits right over the lake, and with the sun going down, it’s the most surreal setting of both beauty and nature.
They walk me to the side where a U-shaped couch is set up with a table that has a firepit in the middle. We all take a seat as Penelope pours me a drink, handing it to me.
“So, when did you first start writing?” Milène asks.
An instant smile graces my face. It’s rare to meet people who want to talk about my writing unless I’m at a signing event. Finding people who love books, especially romance, as much as I do is a treat any day.
“It was something I dabbled in for a while before I finished my first one. Then, I sat on it for two years before I actually published it.”
“Why?” they both ask in unison.
“It’s a long story.”
Michael’s disdain of my writing was cold and callous; his impact on me left a scar. And yet, for the first time, I don’t have this urge to pretend like that part of my life didn’t exist.
“I let a man convince me I wasn’t good enough.”
“That’s horrible,” Milène says.
Penelope’s mouth opens like she’s catching flies. “What a jerk.”
I agree, “Not all men are willing to let their woman dream.”
My eyes roam to Jake who came back outside, and the words of encouragement he’s given me from the moment he found out I was an author come flooding through me. He’s never faltered in his praise for me, even before he knew I was good at it.
“Those men are assholes.” Jake is serious with his statement as he joins us.
My mouth lifts to the side, as does my heart. “It’s rare a man has the instinct for making women feel appreciated.”
Milène’s eyes sparkle as she looks back and forth between Jake and me. She nudges me in the side. “Well, we’re sure happy you didn’t listen to that jerk.”
“We love reading your stories,” Penelope adds as she raises her glass to cheers me. “Although I might have a hard time with reading the sex scenes in any future books. I might start picturing you and my brother.” She makes a face that has me giggling.
“That’s my cue to leave.” Jake places his hand on my shoulder and brushes the hair to the side before rubbing his thumb and forefinger on my earlobe.
I watch him walk inside the house. When I turn back to the girls, Milène nudges Penelope’s leg with a huge grin on her face.
“Okay, that was pretty cute,” Penelope says.
“Beyond adorable.” Milène points to me. “Just don’t go putting it in one of your books, so I don’t think of my brother when I’m envisioning your hero.”
Little do they know, their brother is the only inspiration I have these days. Without him, I’m at a loss for words. I should tell him he’s my muse. I know he’ll love it. However, if I do, I might break the magic. He’ll stop being himself, and I won’t be able to play the heroine anymore. This fantasy might end, and … well, that’s the scary part.
I don’t want anything to end.
Louis and Bobbi come outside, and I say hello
