Page 67 of Savoring Her Snake

“Welcome, mate,” Heath says, turning on the lights and securing the door.

The space is one large room. The living room is directly in front of us, filled with comfortable, white, overstuffed furniture. The couch is L-shaped, and the two large chairs could hold three people. A large fireplace dominates the room, the rock stained white, and separates the living area from the kitchen and table. The ceiling is high, and three fans are spaced across it. The kitchen is across the space. The cupboards are white and many. The island is long, and the counter is shiny white. The room is accented with wood, creating a beautiful contrast with the white.

“There is a bathroom over there, but they have to finish the plumbing.” Heath points to my left, and I see a door. “If you want to change anything, tell me.”

“It’s gorgeous,” I breathe.

“It may seem like an odd choice for me; my mother loved white,” he says. I look at him sharply. “It reminds me of the good times.”

“I’m glad,” I whisper.

“There is more,” he says, holding out his hand.

“The bedrooms,” I guess, and place my hand in his. He grins and walks toward the kitchen.

“You know I like dark places, even though it is nice to be in the light sometimes.” He stops on the other side of the deep fireplace. “The builders were a little shocked when I told them what I wanted.” I frown as he opens a panel in the rock. “I will give you all the codes.” He presses on my waist, and I move back. Heath enters a series of numbers, and suddenly a door opens, the rock camouflaging the frame. I peek inside and see a set of stairs. “The bedrooms are down here, along with a bathroom, kitchen, and living room.” He motions me forward, and I slide my hands on the black handrail as I descend. “There has to be light and dark in my life,” he says, and I understand as I take the last step.

“Amazing.” The space is bigger than upstairs, but the exact opposite. It’s black. The living room couches are dark brown leather. The electric fireplace is black. The kitchen is black with dark wood accents. Even the setup of the rooms is the opposite. The kitchen is at the bottom of the stairs, and the living room is beyond it.

“The bedrooms are this way.” He leaves me to follow slack-jawed behind him. We walk through the living room, and there are two doors on either side of the fireplace. “This will be our room.” He opens the door with a flourish.

“Heath,” I whisper. A king-sized four-poster bed is in the center of the room. Two wood end tables are on either side. A large chair is against the wall to the right, next to a bookcase and a desk.

“The bathroom and closet are through the door,” he explains, and I look to the left of the bed.

“I have no words.” I walk toward the bed and grasp the bedpost.

“Does that mean you like it?” he asks, leaning against the wall.

“Very much.”

“The other room is a spare. It also has a bathroom attached. I have an office to the left of the kitchen as you come in. I also have a small gym on the other side of the office.” I glide my hand over the metal. “As I said upstairs, you can change anything.”

“It’s wonderful. I would love to add some things from my place. Contributing to our home is important to me, and adding some of the things I love would mean a lot.” Having such a beautiful home to decorate in my style is a lovely thought.

“Of course.”

“The couch upstairs is beautiful, but we can’t eat on it. A white couch. I am not good at stain removal. I would spend my days trying to clean it.” Heath blinks. “We make it a rule; no eating on it.”

“Change the couch. I want to spend my days with you. Stain removal will interrupt that time.”

“That’s sweet.” I smile softly.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I have these big, comfortable, red accent pillows. They would look great in the living room.” I have a secret obsession with pillows. Heath probably doesn’t spend much time thinking about pillows.

“Whatever you want,” he says, grinning. “Throw pillows everywhere.”

“Do you have a lot of opinions about pillows?”

“None at all.”

“Really?”

“I don’t believe I’ve said the wordpillowsso many times in a conversation,” he says dryly.

“Shame. Pillows are fabulous,” I mutter, my imagination running wild. “How long did this take them?”

---