Everywhere and Every Way - Jennifer Probst Page 0,122
the Rosenthals’ house was done within ten days. It had been her fault, and they could’ve walked away, knowing their part of the contract had been met. Instead, they refused to blame her and did everything to help, like she belonged to them.
“Thank you,” she said. Her voice came out ragged. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Tristan and Dalton looked nervous, eyes filled with wariness. “Umm, Morgan, we’re good. Please don’t cry. We can’t handle that shit,” Dalton
said.
She blinked furiously and gave a half laugh. “Okay. But you mean a lot to me.”
“Back atcha,” Tristan said. “Besides, you belong to Cal. Which means you now belong to us.”
And that did it.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and a choking sob came from her throat.
Cal groaned. “Dude, did you really have to get mushy? Look what you did.”
“I’m sorry! Shit, don’t cry.”
She laughed and cried until Cal gave an irritated sigh and pulled her into his arms, patting her back. “It’s okay. I would cry, too, if I was stuck with the three of us.”
Morgan held on to Cal in the middle of his kitchen, surrounded by his brothers, and felt like she was finally home.
epilogue
* * *
This doesn’t feel kinky, Cal. It just feels creepy. Can’t I take the blindfold off?”
“No. We’re almost there.”
She gave a long, dramatic sigh and he grinned. His truck bumped along the uneven road as they climbed a hill that was half-hidden in the trees. Finally he pulled to a stop and faced her. “We’re here.”
“Good. I’m getting carsick.”
“Sorry, baby. Hang on.”
He got out of the car, opened her door, and eased her out. Cal ignored his racing heart. It was ridiculous to be nervous. Stupid, even. She’d like it. Wouldn’t she? His gut lurched, but he manned up and decided to see it through. Couldn’t put her back in the car at this point anyway.
“Cal? Can I take this off now?”
“Yes. One minute. Okay, here we go.”
He pulled the scarf from her eyes. She blinked in the sunlight, taking in the scene before her. The acres of land were untouched, and high weeds choked the lot. The barrier of thick woods lined the back, and a small pond lay to the right. The view from the hill gave a tantalizing view of the harbor in the distance. It reminded him of the Rosenthals’ property but set further back.
“Well?” he asked impatiently. “What do you think?”
Morgan turned around to see the full plot of land. “This is beautiful, Cal. How’d you manage to buy it? Most of this property was taken. When I was looking into building for the Rosenthals, we had limited options.”
“My father bought this piece of land years ago,” he said. “There were three separate lots to go to each of us, with no restrictions on how we use them. We could sell the land or build on it.”
“Did you get a new client?” she asked. “Are we going to build a house here?”
Cal swallowed. “Yes. We’re going to build a house here. But it’s not for a new client.”
Morgan frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Cal dragged in a breath. Reached in his pocket. And dropped to one knee.
“I want to build our house here, Morgan. I want you to have the home of your dreams, inside and out. With me. You changed my life and I love you. Will you marry me?”
“Oh, my God!” She covered her mouth with both hands and shook. “Oh, my God!”
Cal snapped open the box. The two-carat solitaire was classic, pristine, and elegant. It shimmered with pure beauty. Just like his future wife.
If she said yes.
She reached out to touch the ring with a trembling finger. “Goodness gracious,” she whispered. “You want to marry me? And build me a house?”
“Build us a house. Princess, my knee is getting a little tired. Are you going to give me an answer?”
“Oh! Yes! My answer is yes, yes, yes.” She jumped in his arms and he fell off balance, tumbling back into the grass. She climbed on top of him, pressing kisses all over his face, and they laughed together, rolling over the land that belonged to them and held their future.
“Welcome home, baby.”
Samuel Dyken clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany conference table. A thick stack of papers lay in front of him. A glass of water rested to his right. The same gold-embossed pen lay neatly on the left. His suit was black and tailored perfectly.
Cal and his brothers sat around the table. One year. It had