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Stepping apart, we take our seats across from each other, and Bill clears his throat, taking a sip of coffee, his eyes suspiciously bright.
“I had a sneaking suspicion you’d say yes after Tim showed me the ring yesterday.”
I blush and duck my head as Bill continues to beam at me.
“I’m so happy for you and Tim. I think you’ll make each other very happy too.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, blushing and ducking my head.
“Angie.” I look up at the seriousness in his voice as it wavers slightly. “I want you to know that I’ve always seen you as a daughter. Independent of Tim, you’ll always be special to me.”
Oh. Oh my stars. I blink away tears and swallow down the lump that is sitting in my throat.
“Thanks,” I croak out at last. Bill smiles at me.
“Do you think that maybe the wedding could be in Chicago?”
Chicago? I hadn’t really thought about where the wedding would be, but Chicago makes sense. It’s where Tim is from. It’s where his parents still live. It’s kind of central to all his cousins.
“O-of course.”
I hope Tim won’t mind that I’ve made this decision for him. Bill pats my hand where it lies on the table and my heart clenches. Quickly, I place my other hand on top, and Bill looks over at me in surprise.
“Would you… m-maybe….” My cheeks are turning bright red. “Would you walk me down the aisle?”
Bill blinks, his eyes suspiciously bright.
“I’d be honored,” he says gruffly, clearing his throat and squeezing my hand. “Now, you go upstairs and pack. We’ll take all your things over to Tim’s house. No doubt he’s pacing holes in the floor waiting for us. Worried you’ll change your mind or some nonsense. The boy’s always been a worrier.”
I giggle, but obligingly head upstairs to pack my things.
We pull into the drive of a modest-looking sandstone home, and I study it carefully. This is going to be where I live. The thought brings a jolt to my stomach. The driver unloads my suitcase as Tim strides out, grabbing the case and my hand to lead us inside. He and Bill are chatting away, but I’m too busy drinking in my surroundings. My future home.
We walk into a double ceilinged lounge room, with comfortable gray stuffed sofas and a glass coffee table. The walls and ceiling are an off-white color, and the floor is wooden look tiles. There are abstractly shaped windows dotted around, letting in masses of light without diminishing the privacy of the place.
Off the living room, which is open plan, there is a dining area with a lower ceiling and a heavy, dark wood oval table that seats six. Stairs curve away up from the lounge area and Tim’s leads me up, leaving Bill down in the main living space.
Apparently, the house is not as modest as it looked from the road. There are five bedrooms on this level! And Tim mutters that there’s also a guest bedroom downstairs off the garage as well.
Tim leads me through to his, which has an enormous bed, sliding glass doors open to a private balcony that overlooks San Diego. The view is breathtaking. I could stand here and drink it in forever… well, I guess I kind of get to.
Tim leaves my suitcase at the end of the bed for me to unpack later. I peek through the large ensuite with a double vanity, a showeranda tub. This place is magical.
Heading back downstairs, we go in search of Bill. Tim leads me through the dining area, which has a kitchen off to the right. It’s cozy with its pinewood paneled cabinets, white appliances and cream marble countertops and includes a breakfast bar. It’s double the size of my galley kitchen back in Chicago. I can definitely cook here.
There’s another lounge area, cozier than the one at the entrance, past the kitchen and dining area. This one has massive folding glass doors that open onto a concrete back patio with chairs and an outdoor lounge surrounding a fire pit, a wet bar with an umbrella covering it and wooden bench style seating along the edge of the patio.
Stairs lead down onto a wooden deck area for more entertaining, which is where Bill is standing, gazing out over San Diego, admiring the view I was smitten with upstairs.
“Do you think you could be happy here?” Tim murmurs into my ear as he wraps his arms around my middle, pressing up against my back.
“I think it might grow on me.”
I am rewarded with a low chuckle from Tim, which has my insides twisting pleasurably. Bill turns at that moment, catching sight of us and beaming, making his way up onto the patio area where we are standing.
“This view never gets old,” he sighs, glancing at it once more.
“No, it does not,” Tim agrees, gesturing to the barbecue pit past the wet bar. “I was thinking grilled salmon for lunch?”
