“We’re going to live here. I bought you your dream house.”
His hand is on the small of my back. When he nudges me forward, my feet remain cemented to the sidewalk.
“Wait a minute, Jack.” I swat his hand away. “How did you know this is my dream house? True, I’ve secretly fantasized about living here, but I’ve never told a soul, not even you.”
“I’ve seen the way you look at it when we drive by. Your grandfather built this house. Why wouldn’t you want to reclaim your family’s ancestral home? You’re a Jameson, Stella. It’s only fitting for you to live here.”
“But you’ve poured your heart and soul into your dream house. I can’t ask you to leave it.”
“Too late. The current owners already accepted my offer. Yes, I love where I live now. But this house is special, Stella. Wait until you see the inside.” Taking me by the hand, he drags me up the sidewalk to the covered front stoop. “The owner, Luke Connor, is a friend of a friend. He called me a while back, asking for the name of a roofer to replace some missing snow guards. When he told me he was putting his house on the market, we got to talking and I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. He never even contacted a realtor.”
“That explains why I never noticed a For Sale sign out front. The owners aren’t home now, are they?”
“Nope. They moved to Charlotte last week.”
Humph! I never noticed a moving truck either. Guess I need to be more aware of my surroundings. “So, you’ve known about this for a while?”
Jack grins at me. “About six weeks.”
My mouth falls open. “Six weeks? Are you kidding me?” I backhand him playfully in the stomach. “Never let anyone accuse you of not being able to keep a secret, Jack Snyder.”
Jack twists the key in the lock, and when he swings the heavy wooden door open, I gasp at the sight of the sweeping staircase. He scoops me up and carries me over the threshold. “Welcome home, Stella.”
“Can we afford this?” I ask, still in his arms.
“I promise you, sweetheart, I will never let us live beyond our means.”
“But what if the inn fails? I won’t be able to contribute to the mortgage.”
He sets me down on my feet. “Your salary is not a factor. If things don’t work out at the inn, you can be a stay-at-home mom for our brood of children.” Bracing my shoulders, he gives me a gentle shake. “But things will work out. You need to think positively.”
I give him a peck on the lips. “I wish I had as much faith as you.” Turning my back on him, I wander through the downstairs. A wide central hallway leads to a room at the rear of the house with windows overlooking the sprawling backyard. The kitchen is circa early eighties and could stand an update, but the rest of the first floor—living room, dining room, library, and great room—appear in excellent shape with random-width oak floors, handsome woodworking, and twelve-foot ceilings. I feel like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music as I ascend the stairs to the second floor.
Through the window at the top of the stairs, I spot a detached building at the rear of the leaf-covered lawn. “Oh, look at that charming building! Is that a guest house or a garage?” I ask Jack, who’s behind me on the stairs.
“A garage with a second-floor apartment for when your mothers come to visit.”
I bark out a laugh. “If they ever come for a visit, Hannah and Marnie will stay at the inn.”
“Then you can use it as your yoga studio,” Jack says.
“Or a home office for you.”
We tour four nice-size bedrooms and two full baths before ending up in the master suite, an enormous room with a gas fireplace and sumptuous white marble bathroom.
Jack and I stand together at one of two windows in the bedroom. “How bizarre to think my great-grandfather stood in this very spot, watching over his inn when he was away from his office. I wonder if he felt the same obligation I feel to stay near the guests in case of an emergency.”
“That explains why you never stay over at my house.” Jack wraps his arms around me from behind, hugging me tight. “Is this house close enough for you?”
I lean back against him. “This house is perfect, Jack.”
He plants a trail of kisses on my neck. “We’ll be happy here, raising our children and growing old together.”
More than anything, I want to have Jack’s children. But there’s another little girl I can see myself raising in this house. My half sister. Jazz should have a happy home with lots of younger siblings to dote on.
“Are you ready for surprise number two?”
I turn to face him. “You can’t be serious.”
He removes a ring box from his coat pocket. “Marry me, Stella.” He opens the box to reveal a large diamond surrounded by a halo of smaller ones.
I flash back weeks ago to the young couple who got engaged at the inn. He gave his fiancé a ring nearly identical to this one. My brain is a jumble of thoughts, and I struggle to form a coherent sentence. “But . . . It’s . . . Where’d you get . . . How did you know?”
His hazel eyes sparkle with mischief. “I heard you compliment the woman. When you stepped away, I asked if I could take a picture of her ring.”
I palm his cheek. “You’re too much, Jack Snyder.”
“I’m desperate is what I am. Since I couldn’t get you to go ring shopping with me, I had to resort to drastic measures.” He slips the ring on my left hand.
I stare at the diamond, glimmering pinks and blues from the sunlight streaming in through the window. “I absolutely adore it.” Pinning him against the wall, I kiss him with all the love and passion I feel for him.
When the kiss
