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“David, hurry! We’re going to be late for our flight!” Isa calls from the kitchen in our two-bedroom flat in London.

The white walls are still mostly bare and our furniture is minimal with all the traveling we’ve been doing, but it’s starting to feel like home. Mo runs into my office, his paws sliding all over the wood floor. He hops up on my desk, causing papers to scatter.

I glare at the behemoth cat, but he’s not scared. He’s figured out I’m a softie, deep down inside… very deep down.

After submitting all the correct paperwork online for Isa’s self-employment taxes, I grab the papers off the floor and stack them back together.

Isa appears in the doorway and leans against it. “Who would’ve thought you’d be the one causing us to be late?”

I turn and open a drawer of the filing cabinet behind me and place the tax documents in the folder labeled Isa’s Itinerary. Smiling to myself, I wonder why I bother with files anymore since my wife is now my only client. But the finances and tax preparations for her website and sponsorships are more than enough of a workload for me. Which is why I dropped all my other clients a few months after our wedding.

Turning back around, I walk toward her, allowing my eyes to slowly peruse her body. Navy leggings clinging to her curvy legs, a white athletic tank showing off her tanned shoulders, and hair in a messy bun so I can see that little spot on her neck, right under her earlobe, where she loves to be kissed.

I slip my arms around her waist. “I believe my punctuality is rubbing off on you.”

She twists in my arms like she’s trying to get away, but she’s smiling and gives up quickly. “Our flight leaves in two hours, David.”

“Actually, it leaves in one-hundred and twenty-nine minutes.”

Her hands slide up my chest and rest right over my heart. “I’m just excited to see our families. So, are you finally done working?”

Leaning back, I quirk one eyebrow. “You mean… submitting your taxes?”

She grimaces. “Oh, is that what you’ve been doing in here all morning?”

I nod my head.

Isa leans in and trails kisses up my neck before whispering, “Have I told you lately how much I appreciate my CPA?”

“You haven’t, as a matter of fact.” I take a step back and cross my arms, waiting for her to express her undying love and appreciation for me.

Her mouth quirks into a smirk. “Not only is he extremely handsome but also very good at pantry organization and making labels.”

I want to puff out my chest. I absolutely love it when she compliments my organization like this. But it’s more fun to annoy her… so with a bored sigh, I check the watch on my wrist. “Alright, enough with the chitchat. We need to leave for the airport posthaste.”

She grips the front of my button-down shirt in her fist when I attempt to brush past her, then pulls me toward her. Isa pops up onto her tippy-toes and kisses me. Not a brief peck… but a kiss with so much passion I’m tempted to hoist her over my shoulder and carry her back to the bedroom. Kansas be damned.

Tightening my hands around her waist, I slowly begin pushing her backward, down the short hallway. Isa bursts into laughter, ending our kiss.

“We are seriously going to miss our flight at this rate!” She ambles across the room, putting space between us.

Isa ignores my pouting, gives Mo one last pet, then grabs her backpack and turns toward the front door.

Groaning, I follow her. “Who would’ve thought my little travel writer would be so eager to go to… Kansas?” I grab the handles of the suitcases and roll them toward the door.

“Definitely not me,” she admits. “But we haven’t gotten to hang out with our families as a married couple. And I’m excited to see Mama.”

I smile at her before letting go of a suitcase to open the front door. Isa and her mother are getting along much better these days… having an ocean between them helps, I think. “I know. I’m excited to see everyone, too.”

Isa follows me through the door with our carry-on bags in hand and closes the door to our flat behind her. We make our way toward the elevator, and once we’re inside, she rummages around her backpack. “Where’s my passport?” Her eyes snap up to meet mine. “Did you re-pack my bags again?”

“Guilty. The way you pack wastes so much space.” I wrinkle my nose.

She shakes her head in dismay. “You keep me safe, and I keep you wild. Remember?”

“Yes, precisely.”

“And that’s why I replaced all of your underwear with ones that have my face on them.”