Lily
We caught traffic into Portland, so it ended up taking us close to two hours to get to Maverick’s family beach house, but I didn’t care. Three days alone with my man was worth the wait. He hit the garage door opener, and we drove into the garage and then headed into the house.
The recently renovated beach home rivaled pictures in a design magazine. Light blue walls, shells, and beachy accessories everywhere; brand-new sofas covered in white canvas faced a wood-burning fireplace in the center of the room. Hardwood floors throughout, except the kitchen, bathrooms, and mudroom, which all had tile.
I followed Maverick through the living room and pushed open the French doors that led to the back deck. I breathed in deep and smiled. There was nothing quite like the smell of ocean air.
