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I can see her now, her hair wrapped in a winsome little bandana, tied in a bow at the nape of her neck.
“I have a secret to tell you,” she whispers, before biting her lip.
Right. As if she could have any secrets from me. Still, I play along.
“Yeah? You hiding something from me, baby?”
I love her little laugh. It’s adorable. I lean in so she can whisper in my ear.
“I wear glasses sometimes.”
I shake my head from side to side in mock sternness. “That’s it. Wedding off.”
“Ha! You used to wear glasses!”
“I did. And I hate to break it to you, but I know everything about you. So I’ve known for a while you wear glasses.”
“Can I see yours?” she asks shyly. “I want to see you wearing them.”
That makes me smile. “Sure. And I’ll fuck you wearing nothing but those glasses, Elise.”
I love making her blush.
We walk downstairs to find the front part of the house uncharacteristically vacant. Despite the two of us not attending our events tonight, my family will not turn down the chance at a party, so all have left.
Staff still remains in small groups, some on the lawn tending to the landscaping to prepare, and I imagine we’ve got many in the kitchen preparing for tomorrow. For the first time since my entire family went to Tuscany several years ago, there will be no dinner in the dining room tonight.
“Wow,” Elise says.
“Weird, isn’t it?”
“So weird.”
And then I get an idea. We’ve had many formal dinners and gatherings, and tomorrow, we’ll have white-glove waitstaff, bubbling champagne, and a five-course meal. Tonight, I want something more casual. Something to emphasize that it’s just the two of us.
It’s an unusually warm day here. Even though a New England spring is predictable, it’s still a crap shoot. We’ve had both blizzards and heat waves. Today, however, the sun beams down like a summer day. Even the waves on the beach are tamer than usual.
“Tavi,” Elise says in a voice tinged with amusement. “You’ve got something up your sleeve.”
I shrug. “And what if I do?”
I lead her past the reception room, past the coat room where we had our most recent stand-off. Past all the other formal rooms that take us to the back of the house to the more secret rooms—the library, war room, offices, the secret wine room.
At the entrance to the dungeon, she shivers. She spent time down there, once.
A lifetime ago.
I take her all the way to the walk-in pantry beside the kitchen. I find one of the reusable zipper freezer bags hanging on a hook inside the pantry door.
“Oh, wow,” she breathes. “I haven’t been this far along the tour yet. This is one epic pantry!” She runs her fingers along boxes of pasta and strings of garlic, then lovingly touches large, bulbous bottles of golden-green olive oil.
“You haven’t cooked for me since we were in Tuscany,” I admonish. “We’ll have to fix that. For now, help me pack.” I unzip the bag and slide a small bag of rustic crackers inside.
“A picnic?” she asks, her eyes as bright as a child’s on Christmas Day. “Oh, I love a picnic.”
“You love so many things,” I say. “And I love that about you.”
Love, love, love, a word we throw around so casually sometimes. A word I’ll take with me tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that…
I once told myself that it didn’t matter what I’ve done. Our past is in the past. If I can forgive what she’s done to my family, maybe she can forgive what I’ve done.
I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her.
“I’ve got it,” she says excitedly. “Let me play around in the fridge a bit?” She glances around the doorway and peeks in. “Looks like they’re using the stove but the center island’s vacant. I won’t be in anybody’s way.”
“Baby, you belong here as much as anyone else does. You’re not in anybody’s way.”
I don’t expect the way her eyes brighten, or the way her lips turn upward in a smile. “Thank you for that.” She draws in a breath then cracks her knuckles. “They’ll be gone for hours, won’t they?”
I nod. “Hours, babe.”
I take a seat on one of the stools and watch my future bride work her magic.
CHAPTER 12
Elise
We sit by the stone wall of The Castle that overlooks the ocean and feast on everything.
I found a loaf of French bread and made little sandwiches with thick slices of turkey breast, gouda, and avocado. I wrapped them in foil and made a small salad with greens and bottled dressing I nestled into a little mason jar, then sliced ripe strawberries for dessert. I squeal with delight when Tavi pulls out foil-wrapped chocolates he brought home from Italy. We eat them together while looking out over the sunset.
