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I scowl. “If you give her too many she’ll puke. I better not come home to a house full of dog vomit.”
Leo shrugs with an evil grin as he continues to rub Pig’s belly.
“Better you worry about our overeating.” Charlie grins down at me as he sets aside the checklist.
The man has a point.
We finally decided on a couple’s activity: cooking classes. Charlie found a place where we could learn to prepare food from different cultures, including Taiwanese. He’s still not the best in the kitchen, but my husband makes a pretty amazing sous chef, following my orders exactly.
And now we’re letting our stomachs dictate our travel plans. Our trip coincides with Taiwan’s annual beef noodle festival. Apparently, the dish is a big deal over there. Not only do they have a competition for the best recipe but also entire celebrations around it. Just the thought has me salivating.
Still, I bet if I get to sample the top-ranked dish, it won’t hold a candle to my Wai Po’s. The recipe that was so good my mother still made it for us from time to time even as she purged every other indicator of her past from her life.
I haven’t seen Vivian since my birthday party. Maybe she and Leo are still in touch, but I get the sense they aren’t. Maybe I should be sad or disappointed the bridge remains a crumbled heap, but I try not to dwell on things that won’t change.
I’ve got my brothers, and they’re enough for me.
When I add Charlie to the equation, my life is pretty fucking great. And that’s not counting his parents, who are a bonus.
There was a time when I would have been satisfied if the people I loved were simply safe.
But now I know what it’s like to see them happy and to feel their love and support in return. Some days I stare in the mirror and recite their names, just to convince myself I really have all of them and that they love me too. The idea is unreal.
“You ready?” The deep voice of my husband rumbles against my ear, giving me shivers of anticipation.
I nod.
“Get out of here. I want to raid your fridge.” Leo shoos us away, his eyes fixed on the TV.
Charlie shakes his head, grinning all the while because he seems to think my brother’s attitude is hilarious. He extends the handles of our rolling bags and drags them toward the door, stopping when he realizes I’m not right behind him.
“Did you forget something?” His thick brows curve up.
Charlie stands tall in the front hall of the house we share now, wearing a T-shirt with the logo of the guitar shop he now manages and looking hot as hell in the tight cotton. But what looks even better on him is the thick titanium band around his left ring finger. I bought the piece as an anniversary gift to replace the spur-of-the-moment one he got himself on our wedding day.
I wanted my claim on him. Because Charlie Keller is mine.
“Nope.” I step between the bags, moving close enough to press my palm against his chest, directly over his heart. “I have everything I need.”
***
