The Man Next Door Page 7

  “Thank you for spending the whole day with your old man, honey,” he said as my hand reached the door. “I know that days like that will be farther and farther in-between.”

  “What are you talking about, daddy? I’ll always be your girl.” I gave him a wink as my hand clicked open my unlocked door. Stepping inside, I called out, “Ander?” I hoped he was there, otherwise, I’d left the house in a much bigger hurry than I’d meant to. I never left my door unlocked.

  “I’m up here!” Ander’s voice called faintly from some place far away.

  I leaned to stare up the stairs, still feeling unsure about exactly where Ander was. His voice had sounded too far away.

  “Where?” I started up the stairs, aware of dad following along behind me. I really wished that Ander wasn’t upstairs. I was exhausted! “Honey?”

  “Up here!” Ander’s voice called again, sounding closer but still not as if he was on the 2nd floor. Turning the corner out of the stairwell, I spotted where the attic’s trapdoor was open and its ladder extended to the floor. Then, Ander’s head popped out from the ceiling upside down. “Up here.”

  More stairs! I was feeling desperate. My thighs were trembling with every step. At this rate, dad would have to push me up the ladder while Ander pulled. But, when I reached it, I put one hand and one foot after then other as I climbed rung after rung until finally I emerged into the dusty, old attic.

  Except… it wasn’t dusty anymore, and it didn’t look old at all. In fact, it looked fantastic. I glanced down at my feet. “Is this cork? Did you install cork flooring?”

  “I did,” Ander said with no small amount of pride. He looked as though he’d had a long day, too. His clothes were splattered with paint—the same color as the freshly painted walls—he had a tear in his sleeve, and dust on his wide shoulders. Everywhere I looked, there were finishing touches amid the bare beams of the rafters. My easels stood in the corner. There were baskets for my paints, spots to hang drying brushes, and unused canvases leaning up against the wall in the corner. There was even a utility sink, freshly installed! But, the most amazing thing about my attic was that it now had French doors at one end that led out onto a tiny banister, one big enough for me and whatever art I wanted to take outside with me. Natural light was best to work with, especially when working with paints. Reflected color off other surfaces had a way of throwing off the eye, but with natural light outside, the color you saw was the color you got.

  “You did this? For me?” I said, turning my gaze to Ander. I felt like crying, and the light sparkled in my vision through my unshed tears. No one had ever done anything so wonderful for me in my life.

  “I did,” he said nodding. “I got permission from your landlord to make the changes, and your dad kept you busy so that I could bring in a crew to get it done in a day.” He flicked a nervous dart of his eyes toward Dad and then back at me.

  “For God’s sake, Ander, don’t chicken out now,” my dad said, laughter in his voice.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, knowing that something was coming but unsure of what, but then it happened. Ander got down on one knee.

  My hands flew to my mouth as tears fell down my cheeks as Ander reached down into his pocket and pulled out a ring. He held out his empty hand to me, palm up, and with understanding, I slipped my hand into his.

  “You have made me the happiest man in the world no matter what you say right now. My life began when I met you. I don’t even remember what it had been like without you. You’re who I think about when I wake up in the morning and you’re my last thought when I go to sleep at night, but it doesn’t stop there. You fill my days. You fill my heart. But most of all, you fill my life. Constance, my sweet love, will you be my wife?”

  “Yes… yes!” I cried, throwing my arms around his neck and falling to my knees with him. I held on with all my might, not even letting go when, with his arms around me, he stood up, lifting us both.

  “Congratulations, Ander,” I heard my dad say and felt as one of Ander’s hands left me to shake my dad’s hand.

  “Thanks, Jack,” Ander said before holding me tight and spinning me in a circle.

  Pulling myself away from him far enough that I could see him, I took his face in my hands. “Today is the first day of the rest of my life.”

  He pulled my hands from his face, held them and kissed them both. “I never knew what I was missing before you. I knew it was something, but I never knew what.”

  A mischievous thought tickled a smile from my lips. “I’m going to paint you tonight,” I whispered, leaning forward just for his ears. “Nude, when you’re still glistening with my wetness on you.”

  Ander sighed as he leaned into. “Okay, so I might not live to be an old man from marrying a woman like you, but dammit, I’ll be a happy one.”

  I bit his ear, and he gave my ass a slap, then we laughed as Dad chided us. “Okay, now that’s enough of that, kids.”

  Ander pulled me out to the balcony to show off his work, and looking back in through the open doors, I took the opportunity to stare at the two men I loved most in life. It was an image that I stored away in the recesses of my brain, one that I would someday paint, and when I did I would call it “Love.”

  About the Author

  In the mood for something decadent, delicious, and provocative? Meet Mia Madison, purveyor of Forbidden Fantasies Romance. Come in, sit back, and relax. The candles are lit, and the dancing shadows on the wall promise sexy, seductive tales of spine-tingling love, leading to a pleasure-drenched happy-ever-after.

  You'll discover young women eager for experience, who have scorching encounters with older men who know exactly what they're doing between the sheets. In Mia Madison's world, anything can—and does—happen. So leave your inhibitions at the door and come along for the ride.

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  Want to read more stories by Mia?

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