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Cora laughed. “I’d rather leave that part to the professionals.” Her eyes sparkled as she took in the property. I’d opted for a wooded and secluded paradise and paid a pretty penny to obtain it. But I had my golden getaway whenever I needed it, with the ocean only steps away and nobody to fucking bother me unless I asked them to.
“I’m in love with this place already,” she said.
“You haven’t even seen the inside.”
“I don’t need to.” She tipped her head back to look into my eye. “Just being here with you is enough. We could sleep outside for all I care.”
“I have something much more comfortable than that lined up.” I kissed the top of her head, my heart swelling painfully. Sometimes it felt like I could pass out from how much I still loved her and how much I wanted to take away all the suffering of the years she’d spent at Eli’s side. “Though I appreciate your vote of confidence. Next time, I’ll just set up a tent.”
We passed the quietly burbling in-ground pool as I led her to the climbing rose-covered pergola. The pink and fuchsia rose blooms were the size of my fist, vining across the slats of the pergola, tumbling down onto the handrails leading up to the mahogany deck. The scent of the roses mixed with the nearby woods flooded my senses as we climbed the steps; earthiness mingling with the humid bite of summer. I took another look at the waves rushing against the small beach before I led Cora to the back entrance.
“Think there’s any beach glass out there?” she asked.
I blinked, looking down at her.The beach glass.That question had cut unexpectedly deep, but the sweet smile she offered dulled the blow. I hadn’t thought about the beach glass in years. How could I have forgotten? It was a constant love song we sang to each other. Combing the beach for glass in the exact shades of each other’s eyes.
“I haven’t looked,” I told her.
“Oh, come on. These are the important property details that you’re supposed to know.”
“Oh, you want to hear property details?” I curled my arm around her waist, bringing her in step with me as I pushed open the door. My chef was already here, preparing the dinner I’d requested, so the scent of garlic was the first thing to hit our noses. We stepped into the big living room, with its vaulted ceiling and exposed beams, the hardwood oak floors gleaming. This was different than my home in Manhattan, but it was home all the same.
“The residence offers six bedrooms,” I said in my best, fakest realtor voice, “five full and one half baths, with a delightful open floor plan…”
She laughed, swatting my chest. “That’s not how I sounded on the building tour, right?”
“No. You sounded much more anxious than that.” I dipped down for a quick kiss.
“Being within arm’s reach of you again, after so long?” A humorless laugh escaped her. “Yeah, anxious barely covers it.”
“Well, it was really Eli who made the whole thing a warm and cozy party,” I mused, leading her deeper inside. I drank in all my favorite features of the house—the oversized windows, the wainscoting, the coastal sunlight filling the space. I’d worked with an interior designer to select furniture that reflected the best blend of coastal comfort and modern, moody designs. It had been a fun passion project, and the result filled me up whenever I came to visit.
“This place is incredible,” Cora mused, pausing at the built-in bookcases beyond the fireplace. She looked back at me. “It’s so homey.”
“That’s what I was going for.” I tipped my head in the direction of the sizzling sounds wafting from the kitchen. “Let’s go meet Renault.”
She cocked a grin. “Where’s Butch?”
“He’s our Manhattan chef. Renault is Hamptons only. He doesn’t like to come into the city, and he’s too good to not obey his demands. He makes a circuit between my house and a few others.”
“A chef-share,” she quipped.
“Exactly.” We stepped into the kitchen. Renault’s back was toward us. The kitchen was in full production mode—gleaming mixing bowls on the thick granite countertops, pans sizzling, asparagus chopped and waiting on a cutting board. “Wow, Renault. This looks amazing!”
Renault turned toward us, his face flushed as it often was in the kitchen. He held out his hands. “Axel! Finally I get to feed you again!”
I stepped forward for a quick bro hug with Renault and then gestured to Cora. “I’d like you to meet Cora. She’s the guest of honor today.”
Cora stepped up, offering him a hand. But instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips.
“It’s a pleasure,” he said, glancing meaningfully my way. “Any lady Axel would honor by hiring me to cook for her is truly a special person.”
I laughed, tongue in cheek. “Renault, you’re good at complimenting othersandyourself at the same time.”
He winked. “Learned it in chef school.”
The three of us chatted for a bit, until Renault needed to return to his preparations. I led us to an alcove in the dining room, where a small refrigerator and drinks cabinet were set into the wall. I pulled out a chilled bottle of chardonnay and showed it to her. “Can I interest you in a beverage?”
“Always.” She watched as I readied two white wine glasses, which were hanging from a rack in the alcove. I poured two generous glasses, then we clinked the rims together.
