Destined For Them (Story 3)✔

~21~

~Caroline~

I came awake the next day, well into the evening, wondering if Sol had come to bed. I wasn't surprised when he had locked himself away in the study after greeting Nick and I from our middle of the night mission. I laid in the middle of the bed for several minutes, staring up at the ceiling, and formulating my next plan. Without Nick.

What brought me out of my own head was the sound of a power drill whirring in another part of the second floor and a constant back and forth shuffling of feet outside the bedroom door. I got up from the bed and slipped my robe on to go investigate. I nearly ran into Nick when I threw the door open and stepped out.

"What-" He was carrying a box and I watched him take it down the hall to add to a collection of boxes outside of the guest bedroom. I about shot through the roof when I looked the other way. My guest bed was sitting up against the wall...with every other piece of furniture that belonged in the room. "What the hell is going on?" I demanded and glared at Nick who was on his way back to the stairs.

The male just shrugged, "I don't ask questions." With that he was down the stairs. I started for the guest bedroom but before I got all the way there, the "PR" that was written on the boxes slowed me down. He wasn't. I'd written those letters on those boxes when we had packed up the house in the city and put them away in storage.

I barged into the room, ready to flip out but my mouth dropped open and no words came out. Red. My fucking guest bedroom was painted red and my husband was drilling hooks into the wall; shirtless, sweaty, in some jeans that sat low on his hips. Now was not the time to get distracted. "Sol!" I shrieked over the drilling. "What the hell are you doing-you know what, never mind. I know what your doing. Put my fucking guest bedroom back!" God, he was so lucky this wasn't the room I'd chosen to turn into the nursery.

Sol gave me a dark look and turned away from his task. "There are plenty of rooms in this house to make a guest bedroom, Caroline." It was the first thing he said since telling me he would 'deal with me later' last night.

"Sol...please. I like this one for a guest bedroom. What are you gonna make someone sleep on that bed?" I laughed and gestured to the bed that had once occupied a lovely playroom. If anyone knew half the things that had happened on that bed..."Don't forget to add the cuffs..."

What was this? Some kind of a midlife crisis? Sol's lips turned up into a devious smile "Oh no, baby. That bed is just for you." He closed in on me and I stepped away from him. "It's where I'm going to put you if you start this sneaking around shit again."

"Oh. My. God. You're dramatic. You changed my entire guest room into a little fucking Sol dungeon just to threaten me. Wow, honey." He deserved a round of applause. My sarcasm changed the look in his eyes and I knew that if my mouth kept running, I was gonna be put in that bed. "I'm pretty sure Mitchell Larson's brother broke out of the loony bin or prison or wherever the fuck they put him and is following me. I think he shot you and I think he knows about the Fosters."

I expected some surprise from him, but he still looked down at me with that 'Come here and get punished' glare. "Yea, I know. Nick told me. We'll deal with it. After I deal with you."

I rolled my eyes and laughed up at him. "Try not to get too excited. I'm pregnant." I shot back. With every word that left my mouth, he was becoming more irritated. I knew he would certainly work around and successfully accommodate the pregnancy into whatever the fuck he had planned by all of this. Great.

"That's all, Mr. Specter." Sol's eyes slid away from my face at the sound of Nick's announcement. The male was standing in the doorway when I turned away from my husband. His eyes only wondered around the promising playroom for a second before they settled on Sol again-just waiting for guidance.