Tall trees surrounded the house, and Elliot couldn’t see a neighbor in the vicinity. The sound of rippling water made him curious, and he looked around until he saw a glimpse of a tiny brook not far from the house.
“Honey?”
“Yes?”
“What are we doing here?”
Mick walked up to Elliot, plastered himself against Elliot’s back, and wound his arms around Elliot’s waist. He leaned his chin on Elliot’s shoulder.
“Do you like it?”
Elliot took in every detail. The beautiful irregular stone inlay on all eight angles. The light streaming out of the large window, making the house look friendly and inviting. On the upper floor, he saw chunky beams in the ceiling, giving it a rustic and homey feeling.
“It’s amazing,” Elliot whispered. Even better than the mountain cabin he’d thought of as his own the last few months. He put his hands over Mick’s and weaved their fingers together. Grounding himself before asking. Pleading. “Can you please tell me what we’re doing here?”