Page 94 of Billionaire Bachelor
I head back downstairs to wait. A minute later, there’s a knock at my door. I open it to find my beautiful girl standing there, brown eyes scanning the space behind me before settling on my face.
“Hi,” she says with a shy smile.
“Get in here, Pip.” I pull her into me with more enthusiasm than I’d intended, causing her to bounce off my chest like a pinball. “Sorry. I’ve been waiting a long time to see you in my place. Guess I’m a little excited.”
Rosie rubs the bridge of her nose. “Stupid chest muscles.”
I place a soft kiss on the tip. “I seem to recall you appreciating my ‘stupid chest muscles’ on more than one occasion.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters as she breezes past me, her catlike curiosity taking the lead.
I smirk, shutting the door behind her. “What do you think?”
She glances around the open floor space. “It’s so…ummm.”
Impersonal?Generic? Boring as shit?
I cross my arms, leaning against the counter. “Not what you were expecting?”
“Not really.” Rosie shrugs. “It’s not like you’ve ever been obnoxiously flashy, but I guess I was picturing something witha littlemore flair. For some reason I had this vision of you sitting in your secret lair with a wall of monitors and a NASA-grade control deck.” She tilts her head, considering. “And some interactive holograms. Maybe some sort of robotic assembly line. A talking assistant wired into the house, perhaps?”
I shake my head, chuckling. “I think you’re confusing me with Tony Stark.”
“Mmm.” She bites her lip. “Possibly. I do seem to have a thing for absurdly attractive tech gurus.”
I grin, pushing off the counter. “Come on, goofball, let me give you the grand tour.”
I take her hand and guide her into the open-concept kitchen. It’s sharp, in an understated Scandinavian way. White oak cabinets, matte black finishes, and stone countertops that cost a small fortune. The pendant lights above the island are thin black rods ending in seeded glass orbs. Bougie, maybe, but I’m man enough to admit they’re also sleek as hell. Like Rosie said, I’mnota flashy guy, but I do appreciate quality craftsmanship when I see it.
“I told the architects I wanted a chef’s kitchen, but I’ve barely used it. Lately, I’ve been at your place—obviously—but before that, I usually worked so late I’d just grab takeout on the way home.” I shrug. “Or Ryan and I would order in and watch a game.”
“Bros doing bro things.” Rosie snorts as she walks toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Okay, this view is the shit. Way better than Ry’s.”
“Hence, why I took the west-facing unit.” I pause, giving her a minute to soak up the view before leading her down the hall. “That’s the theater-slash-gaming room.”
She scans the plush recliners, multiple consoles, and ridiculously large TV. “Sweet Flamin’ Hot Cheetos! How big is that screen?”
“Ninety-eight inches.” I duck my head, feeling a little embarrassed. “I know it’s over-the-top, but with home entertainment, you kinda have to go big, or go home. Bigger screens and better speakers provide a more immersive experience.”
“Well, if the online gambling thing doesn’t work out, I’m sure you can get a job at Best Buy with that pitch,” she jokes, making me laugh. “You know, I’ve always had this notion that oversized TVs were the electronics version of guys compensating for small dicks with big trucks…but apparently, you’re out here rewriting the laws of science.”
I give her a shameless grin. “Sorry to disprove your theory.”
Her eyes fall below my belt. “Meh. I’m perfectly happy being wrong on this one.”
I force myself to stay where I’m at, or we’ll never make it up to my surprise on the roof. “Stop eye-fucking me, woman. You’re making me feel like a piece of meat.”
“Oh, shut up.” Rosie shoves me away. “Fine. Get on with the tour, you ass.”
I bow dramatically, gesturing for her to walk ahead. Mostly so I don’t pin her against the wall and have my way with her, but partly because at least this way, I get to enjoy the view.
Next up is the guest room. “So, this is technically the guest bedroom and bath, but it’s never actually had a guest.”
She peeks inside and gasps. “Holy shit! You have a portal to a Pottery Barn inside your house! I’ve always wanted one of these.”
“Exactly why I paid top dollar and hired the best sorcerer to open one,” I deadpan, earning a smile. “C’mon, smartass. Onward.”
We cruise past the powder room, the laundry room, and my office. Our last stop is my bedroom. The room is extra spacious, the mattress is the most comfortable fucking thing I’ve ever slept on, but overall, my so-called private oasis has the personality of a software update. Necessary, sure, but nobody gets excited about a minor bug fix, no matter how you spin it.
