The Fairytale

ANNA

Gavin wasn’t in bed the next morning when I awoke. I heard his voice from downstairs and followed it.

“I told you I was dating… I’m sure she would love to… She’s wonderful. I’m sure you will like her… No, nothing like Chelsea…”

Hearing his ex-girlfriend’s name sent a wave of jealousy over me. It shouldn’t matter. He had agreed she was out of our lives, but a part of me had yet to get over our previous confrontation.

“Maybe we can come out next week.”

~Out where?~

I continued to follow the sound of his voice to the kitchen, where he was holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder while whisking eggs.

He smiled when he caught sight of me and then pointed his chin toward the stools along the backside of the island. I sat and watched as he worked comfortably at the stove.

“Hey, Mom,” he said brightly. “I gotta go, but I promise you will meet her, okay?” He paused and frowned. “No, she’s not pregnant and she’s sitting right here… Yeah, I’ll tell her… Mm-hmm, love you too. Bye.”

He set the phone down before grabbing a plate of eggs, fruit, and toast paired with a steaming mug of coffee.

“Good morning.” He smiled and kissed me before placing the food in front of me.

“Good morning,” I said, returning his grin. “What’s all this?”

He shrugged. “No staff on the weekends. I like to pretend I’m domestic.”

“I suppose I should’ve gotten up to cook for you,” I said reflectively.

“Nonsense,” he chuckled. “I actually love to cook. Normally, I don’t have the time during the work week, but I’m on my own out at the Millbrook house.”

“You don’t have staff there?”

“No, we don’t.” He emphasized ~we~ like it was important to him. “People take care of it while I’m away, but I like my time alone out there. It reminds me I’m human.”

“Interesting,” I murmured, nibbling my eggs. “This is really good, by the way.”

“Toast and eggs, sweetheart.” He grinned. “You can’t go wrong.”

I thought about my series of epic failures in the kitchen and begged to differ. Before I could argue, he spoke again.

“I was actually thinking about heading out to Millbrook this morning,” he suggested.

“Really?” I asked, trying to hide my excitement. Of all his properties, it was the one that most interested me. I loved the city, but it felt like ages since I’d left for some fresh air and open space.

“It’s my favorite place,” Gavin explained. “I’d like to share it with you.”

“Absolutely,” I bobbed my head. “I’ll go pack a bag.”

“We have time,” he said, sounding amused.

I stood and took a slice of toast with me. “It’s a two-hour drive,” I called over my shoulder. “I want to beat the traffic!”

***

We did not, in fact, beat the traffic. I was brimming with anticipation, and we were stuck in a bumper-to-bumper standstill because of a sporting event. Gavin seemed altogether entertained by my barely contained excitement.

By the time we finally made it out of the city, I had finished my entire mug of coffee and a water bottle.

“Umm, Gavin,” I said just as the interstate came into view.

“Hmm?”

“Can we stop?” I asked.

“We just got going,” he said in confusion.

I scrunched up my nose. “I know. I have to pee.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Of course you do.”

When we pulled into a convenience store, I burst out of the door and sprinted inside. After relieving myself, I came out of the restroom to find Gavin leaning against the wall, waiting for me.

He looked strikingly handsome in his casual T-shirt and jeans. He left his hair—that was usually meticulously styled—more tousled, and it suited him brilliantly.

For a moment, I just stood looking at him in awe as he stared out the window. When he turned and noticed me standing there, he smiled and reached for my hand.

“All good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I swallowed, “all good.”

He leaned down to kiss my forehead in the way that made me melt a little every single time, before gently pulling me along behind him. I noticed the young cashier blatantly ogling him as we made our way through the racks and couldn’t help but smile inwardly at the knowledge that, at least on paper, he was mine.

“We should get snacks,” I said suddenly. Remembering Gavin rarely ate anything processed or sugary, I immediately regretted my suggestion.

Instead of turning up his nose, as I assumed he might, he shrugged. “Why not?”

An excited grin split my face as I headed around the corner and grabbed my favorite sour treats.

“Oh, man!” he exclaimed behind me. “I haven’t had those in ages.”

“Fun fact about me,” I told him, “I love candy. All of it. Any form of sugar, really.”

He cocked his head and laughed. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“Why?” I asked, adding some chocolate-covered peanuts to my growing pile.

“You’re in really good shape.”

“I’m twenty-four and work out twice a day, six days a week,” I pointed out. “Plus, I don’t indulge all that often.”

He nodded before grabbing some sugar-free gummy bears off the shelf. I wrinkled my nose at his very boring selection before adding a bag of potato chips to my hoard.

“What?” he asked.

“If you don’t want anything, you shouldn’t feel obligated,” I told him. “But if you’re going to join me in a snack attack, you should pick something worth wrecking your diet over.”

He stared down at the candy in his hand with a contemplative expression before slowly returning it to the shelf.

Just when I thought he might leave empty-handed, he walked over to the M&M’s and picked up the family-size package. After a thoughtful pause, he also grabbed a bag of beef jerky.

“Ready?” he asked.

I grinned up at him and nodded enthusiastically. As we neared the checkout, the brunette behind the counter leaned over the top. I held back from rolling my eyes as her breasts all but jumped out of the top of her shirt.

“What can I help you with, honey?” she cooed and batted her mascara-caked eyelashes at Gavin.

He turned over our haul, and my spine stiffened in response as she purposefully lingered with her fingers on the back of his hand.

“My wife and I are just stocking up before we take a little road trip.”

Her lip pouted slightly when he wrapped an arm around me and squeezed my ass. I giggled, swatting his hand away.

“That’ll be fifteen dollars and sixty-two cents,” the slutty brunette grumbled.

Gavin handed her his credit card, and she finished the transaction without another glance in our direction.

But when we exited the convenience store arm in arm, I could feel her eyes boring into the back of my skull. I couldn’t even pretend to be upset.

It was an incredible feeling to be the girl receiving Gavin’s sole focus.

I practically skipped through the parking lot, carrying my junk food, my excitement once again renewed.

“Slow down there, Princess,” he laughed.

I grinned at him over my shoulder. “But the castle awaits.”

I tossed my hair and purposely sashayed at a quick pace toward the car.

His footsteps made me turn just in time for him to scoop me up. I squealed as he spun us around before pushing me up against the passenger door.

As our eyes locked, I watched his playful expression shift to something more serious.

He pushed a stray strand of blonde hair behind my ear, then cupped my cheek.

“Don’t ever change,” he said. “Please.”

“I only know how to be myself.” I shrugged, with a confused smile.

It was an attempt to lighten the mood, but he seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

He kissed me deeply with a tight squeeze to my ass before setting me back on the ground and helping me into the car.

When the engine roared to life, he pulled back onto the highway without a word.

I waited for him to say something, but he silently stared out the windshield.

After a while, I decided to leave him to his brooding and ripped open my first bag of candy. From the corner of my eye, I saw him glance over.

“Want some?” I asked, holding the package out.

He paused for a moment before grabbing a neon-colored, sugar-coated worm.

“Fuck it,” he muttered.

“Yes!” I whooped in triumph. “Want some M&M’s?”

“Yeah, baby. I really do,” he sighed in defeat. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Mr. Powell, one treat is not going to kill you,” I told him matter-of-factly.

He smirked as his massive hand dove in to scoop out the rainbow-coated chocolates I’d just opened for him.

“Maybe,” he said, popping some in his mouth. “Maybe not.”

Time flew by on our drive. We talked and laughed the entire way.

It wasn’t hard to pretend we were a real couple.

Especially when he casually reached over to rest his hand on my thigh or gently traced his thumb across my knuckles.

Every touch felt like a promise that I hoped he might keep.

It didn’t dawn on me how long we’d been driving until Gavin suddenly turned down a tree-lined gravel road.

“Here we are,” his deep voice rumbled.

Sunlight glittered through the branches that hung over the single-lane drive like diamonds.

After living in the city for so long, the lush greenery almost felt like a dream.

I could see Gavin studying me and could only assume my face reflected my wonder and excitement.

“It’s so strange,” I whispered, and he raised an eyebrow. “We are just a couple of hours from the city, but it feels like an entirely different time and place.”

He nodded. “That’s why I love it here.”

The gravel road gave way to an open clearing. Before us was a massive, four-story-tall, Victorian-style mansion.

It was painted a pale yellow with a steeply sloped gray roof and more windows than I cared to count.

In the distance, I saw a pool with another building just behind it that I assumed was the guest house—one of them, anyway.

In the opposite direction, the winding road continued. I could barely make out the stone bridge, which crossed over a pond before disappearing into the trees.

From my snooping through the articles written about the property, I knew there was a stone stable that was originally built in the 1800s where show-quality horses were bred and trained.

At one point, Gavin had toyed with the idea of starting a winery as well, but I wasn’t sure if he had ever followed through.

I was still gawking through the windshield when Gavin suddenly opened my door, making me jump.

“My lady.” He grinned and held out a hand.

“This place is like a fairytale,” I told him as I gazed around us in wonder.

“Wait until you see the inside.” He winked.

Sure enough, the interior of the house—if you could even call it a house—was even more impressive.

Every room boasted ornate woodwork and beautiful finishes that spoke of the history encapsulated there.

Even the furniture was large and reeked of timeless quality.

“What do you think?” Gavin asked after giving me a quick tour of the bottom floor.

“Honestly, I’m afraid to touch anything,” I confessed. “It’s like a museum or something.”

“I like the classic feel.” Gavin shrugged. “But none of this is so precious you can’t use it. It’s a home—our home.”

“It’s so different from the penthouse,” I observed. “Everything there is really modern.”

He glanced away, and I thought I saw him frown. However, when he looked back at me, his expression was light.

“I designed a lot of this myself,” he said. “I wanted it to feel classic.”

“It does,” I agreed. Then a thought occurred to me. “I thought you built the high-rise where the penthouse is. Did you hire someone to decorate it?”

He paused before saying, “It didn’t mean as much to me as this place does.”

There was something about his answer that didn’t sit right with me, but I couldn’t place what it was.