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“I probably wouldn’t do well in a clown costume,” I reply, rubbing my chin as I think it over. “But I can’t think of anything else, now that you ask.”
“It’s good that you’re humble,” she decides as I take off the hat and set it back on the shelf. “So incredibly modest.”
“It’s not easy,” I agree and laugh when she narrows her eyes at me. “Come on. I want to find something for my parents as a thank-you for keeping Caleb.”
“Oh, that’s an excellent idea,” London says as we step back out into the snow. “Also, off topic, but have you noticed that Bitterroot Valley looks like it belongs in a Hallmark Christmas movie?”
“I noticed,” I reply with a nod. “I’m glad we came when they have all the lights up and stuff. It’s cute.”
“It’sgorgeous,” she insists. “How much is the condo we’re in going for?”
“Fifteen million.”
She doesn’t bat an eye. “Seems steep, but for a little resort town like this, it doesn’t surprise me.”
“You’re not thinking of buying it, are you?”
She looks up at me. “Why not? You said it yourself, it’s a great town. The skiing is excellent, and you can ski in and out of the condo. Not to mention, I might be a little sentimental when it comes to that unit now. We’ve already made a lot of good memories there.”
I brush my fingers under her hair and rest my hand on the back of her neck as we walk down the block.
“Those are good points.”
“And Caleb would go crazy for it. I don’t know… It might be high on my list.”
“You can’t just buy every place we visit where we’ve had some excellent sex, London. You’ll end up owning most of North America.”
“And maybe some of Europe,” she adds, and then lets out a loud laugh. “Okay, I’m notthatsentimental. I’ll have to think about it. Oh, look, an art studio.”
We cross the street, making a beeline for a place called Bitterroot Gallery.
“Maybe we’ll find a piece for your parents in here,” London says as I hold the door open for her. “Also, I have a question for you.”
“Shoot.” I eye a bronze sculpture of a buffalo. “Ask anything.”
“Does it make you uncomfortable that I can buy a fifteen-million-dollar condo on a whim?”
She’s not looking my way at all. Instead, she’s focused on staring at a rack of postcards.
“No. Not at all.” She looks up at me in surprise. “I make good money of my own, and while it’s not on the same scale, it doesn’t bother me in the least, babe. I grew up around a lot of wealth. My parents arenotwealthy. Several of the aunts and uncles aren’t, actually. But the majority are, and it’s never really been an issue for anyone. We don’t compete in that way. The way I was raised, we celebrate everyone’s accomplishments, whether that’s in business, art, or hell, building a new house. Whatever that looks like. If you want the condo and can afford it, buy the condo. We’ll use it.”
“I would love it ifeveryonefelt comfortable using it,” she admits softly.
“If you put that out into the universe, my family will take you up on it. Why do you ask?”
I step forward, cup her cheek, and kiss her forehead.
“Because alotof men are insecure assholes if the woman they’re with makes more money than they do.”
“Yeah, that’s not me. You’re a badass. You work your butt off, and I’m proud of you. I’d be proud of you no matter how much money you make. You just need to know two things. First, I’m not with you because of the wealth. And second, I don’t want anything from you exceptyou.”
“Boy, you’re swoony,” she says with a sigh. “And I already knew those two things. It’s why I’m still with you. If I thought differently, we never would have happened.”
“Great, that’s settled, then. Hey, what about this painting?”
I walk over and point to a smaller piece. It’s a painting of the mountains, with some horses grazing inside a white fence.
“The sky is so beautiful,” London says, admiring the piece. “Yes, let’s do it.”
