Chapter Sixteen

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My mouth was hanging open, my eyes set wide and my mind unable to comprehend anything but the view. There was so much green!

"Aaron, this is beautiful." I let out as we closed in to the house.

"It belonged to my grandfather's brother. When he died he left it to me since he had no other family and I was the only one who cared more for it." Aaron said as he stopped the car. He got out and hurried to open the door for me. "I come here once every few months or if there's a sale I need to supervise. The workers keep me in the loop and I send the money needed every two weeks."

"It looks as if taken out of a fantasy book." I did a small circle in place and smiled at him. "I love it!"

"I'm glad you do." and he did something I didn't expect. He pulled me to him and placed a kiss on my lips, one that turned into a very heated and passionate one. If only we hadn't been interrupted.

"Excuse me? This is private property if you would- Oh! Mr. Scarlatti, I didn't recognize you for a moment. It's good to see you again. We weren't expecting you." the man wore a checkered flannel t-shirt and faded jeans with high boots.

"I left a message since no one answered. By now someone should have listened to it." Aaron waved a hand as the man was about to explain. "It doesn't matter. My wife and I would like to have a hot meal and our room sorted."

"Your wife?"

"My wife. Exactly. Regan this is my foreman, Peter Johansson. Peter, my lovely wife."

The man still looked a bit perplexed but smiled anyways.

"A pleasure ma'am."

"Likewise."

"Answer to her orders as if they were my own."

"Yes, sir."

Aaron nodded and grabbed my hand. "Want to take a look at the house?"

"Yes!"

Aaron chuckled and we walked in.

The place wasn't much different than our home. It did smell different, though. The smell of fresh grass and something else I couldn't place, wondered in the air. The floors made of some sort of wood and the furniture sat elegantly in their proper place. Everything was spacious and the house was very bright with all the big windows and curtains drawn.

It gave you a sense of freedom.

The only big difference were the framed pictures sitting around the furniture. From afar it seemed to be Aaron when he was young and Laurel. Their parents and some other people I didn't know. Perhaps Aaron will tell me about them some day.

"Do you like it?"

"Absolutely. I can't wait to see the rest!"

We went up the stairs and Aaron led us to our room. It wasn't as big as our bedroom but it was big spacious enough, beautiful and liberating. You could sit in the middle of the bed and get the feeling you were outside with the wind caressing your face.

"The maids should be coming up shortly to change the sheets..."

I winced as I felt a familiar throb on the back of the head. It was as if someone was punching me to try and pry my brain out.

"Are you okay? Does something hurt? I'm going to call the doctor."

"No. I'm okay. It's just a small headache." I said, holding on tight to his arm so he wouldn't leave.

"You have your pills in your bag, right? I'll go get them. Stay here."

That's when I let go of his arm and watched him rush down the stairs. It showed that he cared. And I hope he cares enough to come running back up the stairs because I felt as if my head was about to explode.

It's Not Just BusinessOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora