Finally Satisfied by Tori Scott

he’d chosen a log house on several acres east of the city.
The rugged home surrounded by trees suited him. Private, reserved,
peaceful.
    It was situated at the end of a long
driveway, out of view of the road. Accent lights on the trees
illuminated the drive with soft beams, and more lined the walk
leading to the house. He hadn’t gone overboard with Christmas
decorations, but had just enough to pay tribute to the
holidays.
    He turned on the lights as they stepped
inside, showing a large, open floor plan with an impressive
stairway on one side. She immediately imagined a bride descending
that stairway as the guests below watched and cameras snapped.
    “Let me show you around, then I’ll go get the
presents out of the car.”
    Mitch’s voice snapped her out of her
daydream. What a fool she was. She would neither be that bride, nor
would she be the photographer who captured the moment. “Sure,” she
said, following Mitch into the large kitchen. Black granite
countertops and stainless steel appliances were softened by area
lighting and a large Indian rug.
    He opened the fridge and pulled out two beers
and offered her one. She shook her head. “Medications.”
    He nodded and put the bottle back in the
fridge. “We’ll do the hot chocolate, then. Come on, I’ll show you
the media room.”
    Where the rest of the house had log walls and
rustic furniture, the media room was as modern as any high-tech
theater. Acoustical tiles covered the walls and ceiling, the floor
was made of cork, the furnishings covered in butter-soft leather.
Theater seating would hold twelve people, and each seat had its own
drink holder. When he hit a button on the wall, a curtain at the
far end of the room slid back to reveal a wall-sized screen.
    “Wow. This is pretty impressive.” She sat in
one of the seats and leaned it back, looking up at the screen. “I
may never be content to watch movies at the mall again.”
    “That was my main motivation for this room. A
couple of times taking the girls to the movies and I swore never
again. Now they come here to watch new releases and old favorites,
and I don’t have to worry about them catching some terrible skin
infection.”
    “I’ll bet you have a pretty impressive movie
collection.”
    He shook his head. “Not really. I use a
subscription service most of the time. I don’t like a lot of
clutter.”
    He turned off the light and continued down
the hallway, where he opened the door to the master bedroom. “The
rest of the bedrooms are upstairs. They mostly go unused unless the
girls spend the night.”
    Angel stepped inside. The room seemed to wrap
itself around her like a warm, fuzzy blanket and drew her in. The
peace and tranquility of the room was almost palpable. There was no
television, no computer--no electronics at all as far as she could
see. Blackout curtains over the windows blocked all outside light.
Small, muted lights highlighted various areas of the room--the bed,
the dressing area, a reading chair.
    Mitch crossed the room and drew back the
curtains. He opened the French doors and stepped out onto a
balcony. The back of the house was several feet above the ground as
the land fell away toward a creek. A short stairway at one end led
down to the patio.
    “This is where I spend most of my time when
the weather cooperates,” he said. “All of the stress seems to melt
away out here under the stars.”
    She joined him and looked up. Without the
city lights, stars exploded across the sky. “I never knew there
were so many.”
    “You never get out of town to see the
stars?”
    “No. I spend most of my time at home, at my
computer. Other than photo shoots and weddings, I never go
anywhere.” And for the first time, she realized what she’d been
missing. Regretted letting her life get so rigid and isolated.
She’d missed out on so much.
    “You’ll love the mountains, then. The stars
feel close enough to reach up and touch.”
    She looked out over the backyard, where the
stone