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“She’s with her husband and kids, who wanted cookies. We’re all clear. Don’t forget my cookies.” He disconnects.
My lips press together and I let my phone fall from my ear. “Savage wants cookies. So did the woman, according to him. She had a husband and kids with her and they all wanted cookies.”
“See,” Kace says, stroking my shoulders. “All is well, baby.”
His touch, his intention, I know is just another way he’s telling me that he’s here, he’s with me, and while I know that, he’s not alone, either. Jenny and Jerry are here. “It still doesn’t feel right, Kace. I know you know none of this feels right.”
“I know and I’m not going to pretend I don’t. We’re in this together, and as you said, the good, the bad, the ugly. We know there’s ugly. Which is why we’re going to Germany. And we’re flying private. They won’t know we left or where we went. Blake is a technology magician. He’ll keep us invisible.”
“I trust Blake. I wish Gio would cooperate. I think we’d know more. I need to try to get through to him one more time before we leave. I need to tell him I’m leaving and I have to warn him about me coming out as, well, me.”
His expression tightens, a cynical tinge to his voice. “I don’t know, baby. Can we talk about this later, when we’re alone? And we will. Of course, we will. I promise.”
I never miss the way he communicates. He demands in bed. He asks outside of bed. I like this about him. I love this about him. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
He captures my hand and brings it to his mouth. The minute his lips touch my knuckles, his gaze collides with mine, and I’m floating in the deep blue sea of his eyes, the tension the mere mention of Gio has created in us both, fading. “We should go say our goodbyes,” he says, his fingers twining with mine. “The real estate agent wants to meet us in fifteen minutes. She can only get us into one tonight. The other two are tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait to see them,” I say.
His lips curve. “Me either, baby. Me either.” He turns toward the tables, intending to take me with him.
My feet plant and I grab his arm, rotating him back to me. “I talked to Nancy. I’m concerned about keeping her away from Gio and the store while we’re gone. I also want her to feel secure in her job. I feel like inviting her to the apartment would be a good way to do that. If you’re okay with it?”
He shifts more directly in front of me, and when I lift my gaze, only a few inches separating us, those piercing blue eyes of his capture mine—eyes that see too much, seeing perhaps what I don’t even realize there is to see. “Why would you ask me that? It’s your apartment, too.”
Why indeed? I don’t want to be unsteady in his world, I’m not really, but I’m still not firmly planted. Maybe I won’t be until I close the circle that connects the past and present. “You’re an inherently private person and—”
His hand comes down on my neck over my hair. “This is why we need to move. You need to feel like our place is your home, too.”
“I do. I really do, I just—”
“Not yet you don’t, but baby, you will.” His voice is low, rough, a command that feels more like it’s meant for him, not me. And it’s also a promise. “I’m going to make sure of it,” he adds. “Invite her over, sooner rather than later. We’re not here long.”
“Actually, I invited her to the house at eight. Do you think we can make that?”
He releases me, his eyes ripe with approval. “You invited her?”
“I did. See? I’m not standing outside the door. I’m inside with you.”
His lips curve. “Yes. You are.” He glances at his watch and back at me. “We should be fine. The property is right around the corner.” His hand slides to my hip, and he pulls me close one more time. “I do look forward to our first Christmas here, in our new home, together. I’m sorry it can’t be this year.”
“Me, too,” I whisper, my heart squeezing with the promise of a next year with him, the promise of our own home and traditions.
This is my fairy tale come true. And just like my mother did in her own way, I’m fighting for my happy ending.
***
Twenty minutes later, the woman I’d seen outside the bakery, on the street, has faded from my mind, at least for the time being, and with good reason. Kace and I are just around the corner from the bakery at a luxurious high-rise building. Specifically, on the eleventh floor while a pretty blonde realtor named Carmen opens the doors to an apartment and motions us forward. “Location is everything,” she says, “but this one has far more to offer than just location.” She smiles a friendly smile at both of us. “I’ll leave you two to enjoy the walkthrough.”
Kace and I enter the apartment directly into a gorgeous whitewashed living area that almost appears to float on the water, the floors shiny white tiles, the entire front wall a seamless glass window. “It makes the first impression,” Kace says as the door shuts behind us.
“It does,” I agree, tilting my chin to glance at him. “But so does your current place.”
“You mean, our current place.”
“Yes,” I correct. “Our current place. Slip of the tongue.”
“Hmm,” he says, his eyes filling with mischief. “Seems worthy of punishment later.”
“Oh no,” I say. “Enough of that today.”
His lips curve. “We’ll see.”
“The apartment,” I say. “I’m going to look around.” I twist away from him and start walking.
A low sexy rumble of masculine laughter escapes his chest and does funny things to my belly. “I’ll go with you,” he says, catching up to me, and then we’re holding hands, talking about every feature of the apartment.
The entire place is stunning with an open concept kitchen, a gym, and to my shock, an indoor pool, as well as an outrageously large outdoor space. We end our viewing at the island in the kitchen, side by side, facing each other. “What do you think?” he asks.
“It’s gorgeous, and honestly, Kace, looking at a place like this to call home is a pretty amazing feeling, but so is living where we live now. Where would you put your vault? And where would you rehearse?”
“We’ll custom build. Honestly, I’d probably just gut it all and start over.”
“But it’s a beautiful place,” I argue.
“It needs to be our place. The location is perfect. The view is stunning.”
“Yes. I agree. But how much would that cost?”
“I don’t really care,” he says. “We both need and want to move. I’d like us to hire a contractor and do this our way.”
“How much does a place like this cost?”
“It’s a wash once I sell the old place.”
“How much, Kace?” I press.
“Baby,” he catches my hip and steps into me, “you aren’t ready for those kinds of numbers and you know it.”
“I suppose not,” I say, giving him a little smile, “but I want to do my part, and I need to figure how big a success I need to be. You know, set big goals. How many Stradivariuses do I need to sell?”
His mood sobers instantly. “Aria—”
I press my hand to his mouth. “I’m not riding your wallet. Ever. So, don’t say what you’re going to say. And you know my wings were clipped for my entire life. I need to see how high I can fly.”
He captures my hand at his mouth and settles it on his arm. “I know. You know I know.”
There is something in the way he says those few, simple words that, paired with the flicker of a shadow in his eyes, leads me to one place. “Because of your father.”
“Yes. He wanted me to be one thing. I wanted to be another. In a strange way, that’s not so unlike you and your mother, she just had better reasons for holding you back than my father did me.”
“Your father did a horrible job of holding you back.”
“And thank God for it because had he succeeded, I might not have met your father, and you.” He
shifts back to a broader topic, softening his tone, his knuckles brushing my cheek. “Just be with me, baby. Live life with me. See the world with me.”
A world that would have remained a tiny corner of Manhattan until I met him, I think. “I am,” I say. “I am seeing more of the world every day since I met you.”
“And we’ve only begun. On a somewhat different note, there was something I noticed tonight when we were with Jenny and Jerry.”
My brows furrow. “What was that?”
