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Giving My All to You Sheryl Lister 2022/8/3 13:47:41

A future investment that most likely included a wife and children. That thought shouldn’t have bothered her, but it did.

“My brothers, sisters and I all spent a lot of time at each other’s homes, and it’s not unusual for one or all of them to stay the night. With both my sisters now being married, my two-bedroom condo seems to have gotten smaller. And we could get a little rowdy, which my neighbors didn’t appreciate,” he added with a laugh.

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“I can imagine.” Faith had seen the photos of his family on the website and knew that, other than Brandon, only one worked for the company. After her initial search, she had Googled his other siblings and found that one brother had been a model and now owned a fitness center, and the other one played professional football. She wanted to ask which sister lived in the area—the one married to the pro football star or the one married to the inventor—but kept the question to herself. Asking would open an entire can of worms and ruin what had, so far, been another perfect date.

“Let me show you the rest of the house, then you can relax in here or out on the deck while I cook dinner.”

She whirled around. “Cook? You’re going to cook dinner?”

Brandon placed his hand over his heart. “What’s that supposed to mean? Men can’t cook? I think my feelings are hurt.”

She bit her lip to stifle a laugh. “I’m not saying that. I just thought that we would order in since it’s been a long day.”

He slid an arm around her waist, drew her close and bent close to her ear. “Nope. I’m going to cook for you and then I have a special dessert for you a little later.” He rained kisses along her jaw, the shell of her ear and the expanse of her neck.

“Special dessert?” she murmured, shivering from the heat of his tongue. He could keep doing what he was doing right now and it would suffice for dessert in her book.

“Special,” Brandon confirmed. “But if we don’t stop, the only one eating dinner tonight will be me.” Yet he kept right on kissing her. At length, he straightened. “There is just something about you, Faith, that I can’t resist.”

Lord knew she couldn’t resist him, either, but she kept that to herself, as well. They continued to tour the rest of the four-bedroom, four-bath house and, she noted that aside from the elegant dining room and his well-used office, the one downstairs and two upstairs spare bedrooms were still awaiting furniture. The master suite boasted dark, heavy furniture and had been done in varying shades of blue with gray accents. Faith noted a cozy sitting area holding two loungers and a fireplace through an archway on the other side of the room. He had a sophisticated sound system, wall-mounted television, a large, walk-in closet and luxurious spa-like bathroom. “I see you made sure to have this room furnished.”

He shrugged. “Hey, I needed somewhere to sleep other than the cramped pullout sofa in my office.”

Faith laughed and eyed his tall, muscular frame. “Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem.”

She started from the room and headed down the stairs.

“Here’s my other sleeping spot.”

She surveyed the family room. “It looks like you spend a lot of time in here.” The area held a large sofa, two oversize recliners, end tables, another fireplace and a huge TV mounted on the wall.

“When I’m home, yes. But by the time I get home most nights, the only thing I want is my bed.”

“Are you putting furniture in the other bedrooms?”

“Sooner or later. I want to add a few more things to the living room. I haven’t decided about the bedrooms yet.” Back in the kitchen, Brandon folded his arms and leaned against the counter. “My mother keeps telling me she’d be more than happy to help me decorate, but I’m afraid the rooms will be as pimped out as the ones you see in magazines or on television.” He frowned and shook his head. “I like things simple. Nice, but simple.”

Faith had to admit, the house suited him and there wasn’t a sock out of place. “Do you have someone to come in and clean?”

He pushed off the counter, opened the sliding glass door and inclined his head. “About every four to six weeks, but I’m the only one here so it doesn’t take much to keep it picked up.”