Page 97 of Lesson In Forgiveness

“They are. Evander’s dream is coming to fruition.” Unhooking his seatbelt, Grit opened the door. “Come on, little tiger. I’ve got something to show you.”

Her eyes zipped over to the left, landing on the biggest building. It looked like a two-story cabin, all wood and glass, but she was aware of the basement hidden beneath—she’d done some work down there. That building was designed to be the heart of the club, where BDSM was the core focus.

It was good Evander dedicated areas for other kinks; not that she’d be using any of them.

“As long as there aren’t any whips or chains in the vicinity,” she told him, following him out of the truck. The late afternoon heat hit her once she left the air-conditioned comfort of the vehicle. “If Evander didn’t fork out some dough for a pool, he’s an idiot.”

Laughing, Grit rounded the front of the truck and took her hand. “He’s many things, but an idiot, he’s not. BDSM might be the reason for building Serenity, but rest and relaxation is an important part of any vacation. The pool, hot tubs, sauna, and steam room are all completed. Ever been in a hot tub when it’s snowing, Tabitha?”

The first and only time she’d been in a hot tub, she’d drowned a woman who preyed on prepubescent boys before damaging the heating element, ensuring the police found an overboiled corpse.

“No.”

“Well, something to look forward to, then.” He gave her a tug, leading her down one of the pretty paths. “Part of the deal I have with Evander is living on-site. It’s stupid having the head of security commuting from the city every day, especially if there’s an emergency.”

“Makes sense,” Tabitha agreed.

“He brought me here the other day to choose one of the permanent residential cabins. He’s going to decorate it however I want, furnish it to my taste. The thing is…” Grit stopped, turning her to face him. “I don’t want this to be about me, Tabby. I know I’m throwing a lot at you today, and there’s more to come, but I see this as the next chapter in my life. A chapter I hope will be full of us.”

“You and me?”

“You and me. I told him I needed to bring you here myself, to ask you if relocating to Denver might be something you’d be willing to consider. I’m not interested in an empty house where I just exist when I finish work, Tabitha; I’ve already got that in Phoenix.” His thumb caressed her cheekbone. “I want a home. Somewhere meaningful. When someone asks if I’m going home, I want to say yes, I’m going home to my beautiful woman, to cuddle with her on the couch while we watch a movie and throw popcorn at each other’s heads.”

She snorted in amusement. “An excellent way to lose an eye.”

His lips quirked. “Not the point I’m making. The main reason we’re standing here is—”

Tabitha pressed her finger to his lips. “I don’t have a home, Grit. Never have. I’ve got bases, squalid little apartments here and there in case I need a bolt hole. I don’t have nice things, fancy furniture, any of the frivolities. You’ve told me what you want; I’m telling you I have no idea how to build a home or a family, or even have a relationship.”

Grit’s brow dropped into a frown.

“I guess I can learn. Try to, at the very least. So, yes, I will move to Denver with you and camp out in the kinky sex club. Just remember it’s not easy living with insanity, okay? I don’t think I’ll be the easiest person to live with, but I’ll…” Insecurity washed through her—so many things could go wrong. “Don’t throw me away if things get crazy. That’s all I’m asking.”

“I love your brand of crazy,” he assured her.

Her shoulders relaxed. “I may need that in writing.”

“Would our signatures on a marriage certificate suffice?”

She jerked back, narrowing her eyes. “That’s jumping a bit too far ahead, big boy. Let’s just try living together without murdering each other in our sleep first before you bring formalities into the equation.”

“Little tiger,” he said with a heavy, faux sigh of exasperation. “You do realize we’ve essentially been living together for a few weeks now, and we’re both still alive? We’ve already achieved several milestones.”

She was sweating; whether it was the heat or her own nerves, she didn’t know. Attempting to redirect his attention, she gestured to the path. “Did you choose a cabin?”

Taking the hint, Grit started walking again. He was an intuitive man; he probably knew if he made a big deal of her agreement, she’d get anxious enough to backpedal. “I have one in mind. I’d like you to pick your favorite, though. We have free rein to choose.”

Boot scrunching on gravel, she followed him as the path wound through the club buildings and out toward the forest framing the rear of the property. The cabins were externally identical to the kink buildings, but they varied in size.

“I thought the residential housing was designed to be all one size? Same internal layout?” She studied the first two cabins, comparing them to the ones beside and behind.

“Originally, yes. I think Elias convinced his husband to make alterations to the designs during construction which was slightly inconvenient, but he did make a good argument for the changes. The original design was basically intended for single occupants or those with a partner. The point he made was that every family isn’t the same—space would be tight for triads or poly dynamics.” Grit’s gaze swept over the cabins, assessing each one. “Evander upgraded several cabins to accommodate larger dynamics. Some have bigger master bedrooms, others have additional bedrooms. Personally, I think it was a smart decision.”

Tabitha strolled along, her brain clicking onto the rhythm of her boots on the pristine pathway. “Crunch, crunch, crunchity-crunch. The bunny wants dinner but the mean man says lunch.”

She heard him chuckle, but he didn’t follow her. He just let her wander from cabin to cabin. It was kinda like being Goldilocks, she thought. This one was too big, that one was too much in the middle. She drifted toward the right, drawn toward one cabin in particular.

She walked up the steps to the front door, pressing her hand against the wood. What was she waiting for, a sign to tell her this was the one, her home? How the hell was she supposed to know what made a good home when she’d never had one? It had walls, a roof, amenities.

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