Free The Gate to Everything (Once Upon a Dare Book 1) by Ava Miles

Plus, she loved that house—even if it was in Atlanta. She wanted her baby—their baby—to have a yard to play in.
    His face broke into a relieved smile. “Thank you. You won’t regret it! I promise.”
    “We need to have ground rules,” she said, feeling swept away by her own agreement.
    “Yes, I know. I’m mostly good at following rules.” He punctuated the joke with a wink.
    Her mouth twitched. That was one thing he was not. “Always the kidder.”
    His smile slowly faded. “Not always, Gracie. Not about this. I know what you think about my reasons for building you this house, but I really… I only wanted you to be happy.”
    To Jordan, sometimes things were too simple while she overanalyzed everything. She bit her lip, knowing she had hurt his feelings. “I’m—”  
    He raised his fingers to her mouth. “Don’t apologize to me, Grace.”
    Her lips burned at the touch, so she eased back. “Okay, I won’t.”
    “Speaking of rules, how about this one? I want you to take better care of yourself and the baby. Promise me.”
    “I promise.” Of course, she wasn’t sure it was a promise she could keep. She couldn’t recall getting a good night’s sleep since the breakup, and it wasn’t for lack of trying.
    Jordan took out his phone, punched something on the screen, and handed it to her. “I thought you might want to see the house. I can take you for a tour whenever you’re ready. It’s…I got the floor plan from town hall.”
    Grace’s breath caught when she saw the photo. It did look exactly like the one in Deadwood. Painted in a warm yellow, it was two stories with a smaller third story punctuated with dormer windows. He’d even added an identical cushioned swing to the white wrap-around porch. She realized it would be the perfect place for her to rock the baby—like she’d always imagined doing. The front door was the same bold red of the original and captivated the eye. Large windows sparkled in the sunlight. The shingles were wood and a natural brown.  
    Just like in her dreams, the house looked homey and pretty, exactly the kind of place where she could spend the rest of her life. With him. Her heart pretty much shattered.
    “Oh, Jordan, you…you…it’s perfect.” God, she was going to start crying. He’d built this for her before the breakup? What must he have gone through, knowing it was still sitting there, waiting for her, but she’d never know about it? “Why didn’t you tell me about the house the night we broke up?”
    He was silent a long time. “Because I could see how unhappy you were. Then you started talking about turning thirty-three, and you told me you wouldn’t wait for me anymore. This house… You were right. It was a holding pattern.”
    She fought tears and shook herself to regain control. Rehashing the past wasn’t going to help anyone. “You mentioned improvements.”  
    “You needed a chef’s kitchen,” he said, a smile rising and falling on his face.  
    From the look of it, that’s exactly what he’d given her. The Viking range that dominated the one wall made the stove in her current apartment look like an Easy-Bake oven. The island was a sizeable workspace flanked by more cabinets, a bookshelf for her cookbooks, a grill, and a deep fryer. The stainless steel sink was industrial but sleek. And there was an enormous Sub-Zero refrigerator, its metallic finish gleaming like mercury, a subtle contrast to the kitchen cabinets done in a warm cherry.
    “I love the kitchen,” she said, enlarging the image so she could take in more of the details like the sand-colored countertops. “This is much better than the one in Deadwood.” It was hard to admit that.
    “I hoped you would think so,” he said.
    Suddenly all of the hurt she’d felt the night of their breakup was back between them. She put her hand on his arm, and he looked over sharply.  
    “Thank you…for doing it—even though you really are crazy. Building me my dream house…”