Page 66 of Fixed Asset

“You realize we’re planning where you’ll give birth to our children in the parking lot of the In-N-Out off Coronado Avenue.”

Cat tipped her chin, pulled her forehead off mine, and pressed a kiss to my mouth.

“The where is never important. The who is.”

“Remember this morning when I was being all sweet, hearts, and flowers?” I asked.

“Feel like that was five hundred years ago, but yes, I remember you telling me how bodacious my breasts are.”

I couldn’t stop my laugh from spilling out.

“I was going to say, I forgot to include wise in the list of things that are perfect about you. But since you used the word bodacious, I’m retracting my amendment.”

Catarina pressed her lips against mine again. This time, she didn’t pull away far when she mumbled, “Admit it, you love me.”

Like gasoline to fire, my heart lit.

“No, baby, I love the fuck out of you.”

I felt her smile against my lips.

“I love the fuck out of you too.”

She was right, it was the who you were with that was important.

But right then, as those words settled deep in my soul—the where was important too. Where we were going together. The future we’d have. The mistakes we would make. The forgiveness we would need. The love we’d give each other. The family we would make.

Chapter Eighteen

Pete had not exaggerated.

But what he’d left out was that Jack’s house was staged—as in, it was a show house.

“This is freaking me out,” I told him.

He’d given me a mini tour of the downstairs, with the promise he’d show me the rest tomorrow. I didn’t quibble. My belly was full of the best hamburgers on the planet, I’d slurped down a milkshake, and now all I wanted was to brush my teeth and fall into bed.

But seriously, his house was giving me a complex. I wasn’t sure if I could live in a house that looked staged and ready to sell. Hell, I didn’t think he should live in this house. Not because he didn’t deserve nice things, but no part of this house that I’d seen was relaxing and inviting. None of the couches—yes, he had more than one; he had four—said “Sit and chill while catching up on Netflix and eating Doritos.”

Jack remained silent and directed me into the master bedroom—his huge bedroom. And decorating this room was furniture that looked heavy and expensive. But what caught my attention besides the four-poster bed were the double doors that led out to a balcony. I only had a few seconds to take in his room before we stepped into his bathroom.

“Okay, I’ve changed my mind,” I breathed, taking in the splendor of the en suite. “I could live in here.”

“I bought this house as an investment,” he told me. “I also bought it fully furnished. It’s too much house for me. It was also more than I wanted to spend. But this bathroom and the deck off the back, which you’ll see tomorrow, is why I bought this place. The balcony off the bedroom isn’t bad, but the deck is peaceful with a great view of the ocean. The sunsets can’t be beat. I’m rarely here, so I don’t use the furniture—which I don’t like, but it’ll help sell the house. Even though I spent more than I wanted, I still got this house for a steal. It had fallen out of escrow twice. The sellers had already bought a new house in Montana and moved. They needed to dump this place. Pete knows the agent who was listing it. I came in with a cash offer, they knocked down the price, and I bought it. You wanna sell the furniture and replace it with yours or buy new, we can do that. But I have more than a year left before I can sell so I don’t get nailed with capital gains tax.”

Shit. He thought I didn’t like his house.

“I didn’t mean . . . I was joking. Your house is beautiful. It’s a showplace.”

“What I’m trying to tell you is, I’m not married to this house. I never planned on staying in this house. You’re right; it’s a showplace, not a family home. It has no yard. And floor-to-ceiling windows that would give me a heart attack to have a toddler bang on. But until we can sell and move, I want you to be comfortable.”

At that moment, Jack surely didn’t look comfortable; he looked the extreme opposite of that.

He kept saying “we” in regard to the house. Obviously, he hadn’t changed his mind about me moving to California.

“Okay, Jack, I’m just going to come right out and ask. What’s going on?”

Both his hands came up and he pawed through his hair. Now I was freaking out, and not in the kidding way.