Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Maestro had discovered the property when the members of the club had all been assigned to go house hunting. Czar wanted them to put down roots in the Caspar/Sea Haven area. He didn’t think sleeping at the clubhouse was best for them. Those without partners tended to do so even though they’d each purchased a house. They were used to guarding one another’s backs. His job, the way he saw it, along with Keys’, was to guard Steele, their vice president. He spent a lot of time sleeping at Steele’s home. That meant his house was empty.
What was there to go home to? It was a cool house, but it wasn’t a home yet. He’d watched Breezy transform Steele’s house into a home. Anya had done the same for Reaper’s house. There was no question that each of his married brothers or those with partners had homes instead of houses. Maestro was intelligent enough to know it didn’t matter how cool the house was, or how much he liked the design; living alone, for someone who had spent their entire life with others, didn’t work.
The unique design of the house had drawn his attention immediately. The roofline was sharply slanted so that it appeared to cover the house like the wings of a bird. The house itself was all glass and wood. The glass allowed the light in, and the wood spoke to him. Gave him that semblance of peace he needed. The ceilings of the single-story house were extremely high, with banks of windows and oddly shaped but cool tubular skylights allowing the light to come in from every angle. Fortunately, the glass was self-cleaning, or he would have spent his every waking minute trying to keep up with the dust or dirt from the trees and garden. Or the salt from the sea.
The house was situated in a perfect location for him. He had views of the ocean, although he wasn’t as close to it as some of the others. He liked the location because he was partially in the forest. Various species of trees were abundant on the property. There was a garden area.
His deck surrounded the house and gave plenty of opportunity to entertain, not that he was a man who invited others over for barbecue. When he wasn’t with Keys or Steele, or at the clubhouse, he played music. He wrote music. He could spend hours sitting at a piano. He had a beautiful piano in his house, one perfectly tuned and adjusted. It was the first thing he’d purchased for the house.
He needed the solace of his music. That was just as important as the ride on his Harley. Maestro didn’t ever try to fool himself about what he was. Or who he was. He knew he was controlling. He also knew any woman living with him would feel suffocated under that tight control. Men like him, with his personality, didn’t find women who would stay. Who could love them despite their flaws.
He opened the large front double doors and stood there a moment, admiring the craftmanship of the design and the impeccable work that had gone into building the house. The doors opened straight into an enormous room, revealing the high ceilings and woodwork as well as a step down to the seating area in front of the fireplace. The wall of windows and glass sliding door leading outside to the deck were visible, giving him a partial view of the trees while standing at the front door.
He moved inside and closed the doors behind him. There was only one place he wanted to be—seated at his piano. Thinking of Zelie. Writing a song for her. Deciding, once he was back to normal and could use his brain to think things through, whether to take a chance on finding a real relationship with her. That was if he hadn’t already blown his chances with her.
The moment his fingers were on the piano keys, and as he flooded the room with music, he could breathe again. His mind calmed. The chaos in his head receded along with the howling demons. He allowed himself to go through the time he had spent with Zelie moment by moment. Azelie Vargas could be the perfect woman for a man like Maestro.
He had excellent recall, and he examined what he’d learned about her. She was giving. A pleaser. Her pleasure was in pleasing him. She had worn the clothes he’d sent to her, even though they made her uncomfortable, because he’d asked her to. Each time he had reassured her with his touch or voice, she had responded positively.
She was generous with others even though she didn’t appear to have much. She actively pursued higher education, and she’d been honest when she spoke of Billows’ strange mood swings. He’d noticed those same shifts in disposition each time he’d met the man. Granted, it was only a couple of times, but the man had been jovial and friendly one day and standoffish the next.