Page 118 of Truthfinder’s Promise

“We. What are we doing? We are escaping. Right now, before anyone else tries to talk to us.”

“We can’t escape, we have kids to take home in an hour.”

“Nope, I pawned them off on Valkyrie and Random. We are free, and we are going.” He palmed the keys from her pocket and she let him have them. She figured it was only fair he was allowed to drive some of the time.

He turned quiet once they pulled out of Siren’s drive, and he turned in the wrong direction to head back to the condo.

“Where are we going?”

“I want to give you your Christmas present.”

“It’s not Christmas yet.”

“I know. I don’t want to wait.”

“Okay.” She dragged the word out into two syllables, but it failed to have the desired result of getting him to explain further. He pulled into the driveway of the plot next to Siren’s house, the one Meredith should have bought. “This is private property,” she pointed out.

“I’m aware.”

Oh, well, as long as he was aware… “I’m not having car sex with you on someone else’s property if that’s what you couldn’t wait for.”

He gave her a roguish grin. “Don’t worry. I was never dumb enough to think car sex counted as an actual Christmas present.”

Then what were they doing here? He was driving right up to the house. The one she had diligently avoided driving by to look at once the framing had gone up, because she hadn’t wanted to see someone else’s house on this land.

Except the finished building she found herself looking at wasn’t someone else’s house. It was her house—a little different, but it had the bones of the one she’d designed with Hel.

The exterior was the stone siding she’d picked out, a gray that was almost silver. Black shingles covered the gabled roof and the wraparound porch beneath was supported by black iron columns to match.

This house was larger than the one she’d planned, two stories instead of one, with a balcony room on the second floor that overlooked—

Her father’s gardens.

She had the car door open before she could stop herself. Her feet moved on autopilot, picking up speed until she hit the cobblestone path. It was wintertime, so there wasn’t actually anything planted, but the walkways, the arbors, the benches… She could see what it would become

Footsteps crunched on the ground behind her. “Do you like it?”

She turned. Jensen stood with his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t understand,” she said finally.

“Come here.” He took her hand and let her to the front door, past the deep cushioned porch swing that was definitely the exact one she’d selected from the catalog. He pulled out a key and unlocked the door.

Why did he have a key?

Don’t be dumb, Meredith, you know why people have keys to houses.

But that didn’t make it make any sense. He pushed the door open. Warmth drifted out. Jensen flipped the light switch just inside the door and pulled her in. She just stared. At the light hardwood floors. The cherrywood kitchen cabinets and granite countertops. Every appliance she’d picked out with Hel, down to the coffeemaker.

She walked further in, feeling like she was caught in a spell. Jensen followed her, quiet, like a shadow.

The first floor was almost exactly like she’d designed with Hel, the kitchen, living room, and dining area all in an open floor plan, the hallway that led back to the bright, windowed room she’d planned as the home gym on one side, and what had been the master suite in her plans on the other. The room was a little smaller now, but with its own attached bath.

Her plans hadn’t included a second floor but she went up to it now, the landing letting out onto a small secondary living area. Off the right were two smaller rooms likely meant for home offices. Off the left was the master bedroom. The master bathroom was exactly as she’d planned it with soft gray tile, rain shower, and sunken tub. The bedroom had built-in bookshelves on two of the sidewalls.

On the wall next to the bed, French doors let out onto the balcony. She opened them and walked out, looking down at where the gardens would grow come spring. Jensen appeared beside her. He didn’t touch her, almost as if he was afraid to.

He repeated the question he’d asked when they’d been standing on that cobblestone path. “Do you like it?”