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“Well, I guess while you guys are out on your wedding license mission, Lex and I will explore this house. It looks so unassuming from the outside, but inside it’s something else. I had a peek in the living room when we arrived… holy cow, that view is spectacular.”
Rhia and Lex alone in a house…
Oh no!
I doubt they’ll admire the view for long… unless they’re pressed up against the glass.
I walk to the kitchen and open the cupboard beneath the sink where we store the cleaning products. Taking out the window spray and a cloth, I pass them to Rhia.
“Just in case you leave hand or bum prints.” I tease, and she smirks. “I want to see no evidence,” I murmur.
Rhia’s mischievous smile just gets bigger.
Yep, just like I thought.
“By the time you’re back, I’ll have made a to-do-list and try to source whatever we’ll need.”
She takes my hands, twirling us on the spot. “It’s gonna be awesome, El. A winter wedding with a Mediterranean hunk… so romantic.”
Chapter Five
Ella
Tierofastensthescarfaround my neck and pulls my beanie further down over my ears just as Claudette opens the front door and an icy breeze rushes in.
“It’s particularly cold today. Put on your gloves, angel,” Tiero orders, kissing the tip of my nose.
There are times when his bossiness is endearing. Him always making sure I’m cozy warm whenever we step outside is one of them.
“Yes, dear.” I bat my eyelashes at him, making him chuckle.
He places his hand on the small of my back and guides me outside. He’s always done this. Back in Sicily, just after we met, it was a sort of claim, intended to ward off other men.
But since Tiero found out about peanut, that gesture has transformed.
There’s still an element of ownership, but now there’s also a new level of tenderness in his touch, a protective instinct to guard the growing life within me, especially after everything we’ve been through.
When we’re together, one of his hands is always on me… like a pledge to stand by me at all times. It’s genuinely touching.
I stop on top of the stairs and take in the scenery. This never gets old.
It’s only early afternoon, but the sun is already tracking low in the sky, bathing the landscape in soft hues of rose and gold, and casting long shadows that stretch across the snow-covered ground.
The air carries the scent of pine needles and the subtle aroma of wood smoke from the crackling fire inside.
I take in a deep breath as a sense of peace settles over me. After all the upsets of the past few months, I soak it in, grateful to have this privileged life.
“God, I love living here. Isn’t this just the best?”
Tiero wraps his arms around me from behind and rests his head on top of mine. “Yes. If only it was warmer.”
He’s been talking about finding a private island in the Caribbean and moving there once the dust of our ‘deaths’ has settled and peanut is born. But I love it here and would happily make this our permanent home.
But the freezing Alaskan conditions are challenging for my Sicilian. He needs a warm climate, or so he tells me.
My man with his olive skin, kissed by the sun of a thousand Italian summers, looks out of place in this pristine winter landscape with its snow-capped peaks.
I’m currently only seeing his face. Layers of insulated clothing swallow his normally tailored silhouette. I’m used to seeing my fiancé in the finest suits, not in snow-boots and down jackets. Will I ever get used to his new look? More importantly, will he?
