Chapter Sixteen

Sammi glances over at me from the passenger seat of the blacked-out Range Rover I rented for today’s outing. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” I send her a flirty wink, admiring my handiwork. She’s hardly recognizable in the clever disguise I put together for her—a huge white floppy hat with matching trench coat and dark, oversized sunglasses. She still looks posh enough to fit in where we’re going but it’s not at all her usual style and no one would pick her out in a crowd, much less identify her through the dark-tinted windows on this beast.

“You make driving look like foreplay.” The shameless hussy lifts her sunnies and peers up at me, gnawing on her lower lip. “Those veiny hands on that shifter thingy.” She vibrates through an exaggerated chill.

“The shifter thingy?” I shake my head, because she’s ridiculous.

“Mmmhmm,” she purrs. “It’s really turning me on.”

“You sure it’s me driving? Or the fact that we haven’t seen each other in a week?”

She shrugs, dipping her head toward one shoulder, then the next. “I’m sure it’s a little of both.”

“It’s this newsboy cap, isn’t it?” I reach up to pat the wool monstrosity.

“Oh, yeah.” She shifts around in her seat. “It’s making me wet.”

“Just wait til you see it paired with the peacoat on the back seat at dinner.”

“Ohhh.” Her brows waggle. “Something to look forward to.”

The GPS guides us to a massive iron gate before declaring we’ve made it to our destination.

“Here we are.” I reach through the window to the pad, inputting the code I was given.

“And here would be?” She looks around in a huff as the gates open and we proceed through. “All I see are trees and a road.”

“Patience, Li’l Bit.” My heart thrums wildly with excitement as I navigate the winding drive. “There,” I say when the enormous Victorian home comes into view.

“Are we visiting someone famous?” she asks, gaping at the immaculately kept grounds.

“We’re meeting a realtor.” I pull up beside the white Lexus already waiting in the driveway, throw the truck into park, and unbuckle.

“A realtor?” She looks out toward the house then back at me. “Shut up! Are you serious?”

“Figured after the shit show of last weekend, we needed to start looking for a place of our own.” I quirk a hesitant brow, biting down on the corner of my lip. “I hope that’s okay?” I couldn’t decide whether I should talk to her about it beforehand, but ultimately went with the element of surprise.

“It’s more than okay.” Her dimples make an appearance, settling my nerves.