Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Yeah.”
I snickered. “Love, dinner party means more than just us.”
As we sat, we saw other people parking their cars and walking up the wide neutral gray curved tile walkway that contrasted beautifully with colorful shrubs and flowers leading to the wide front porch and massive double doors. The spring wreaths on both were enormous and lovely. The entire front of the house was stunning.
“You like this,” Sam said flatly.
“What? Dinner parties?”
“No, I mean––” He gestured at the front of the house. “––all of it.”
“Well, yes, of course I do. Everything’s gorgeous.”
He squinted at me.
“What’s going on?”
He shrugged, which was a classic Sam Kage move. It meant he didn’t want to talk about whatever it was.
“Tell me,” I directed him, taking off my seat belt and waiting.
“It’s nothing,” he said, taking off his as well and then leaning sideways to get his gun out of the combination-locked glove compartment, pulling it from the mounted holster there. After flipping it closed, he put the Glock 19 in his ankle holster and turned to me. “Are we going in?”
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong with you.”
His brows furrowed. “I don’t want to get––”
“You cannot think for a second that I wish we were rich.”
He turned his head, something outside his window being terribly important.
I laughed, which made him return his focus to me.
“You remember I used to date Aaron Sutter, right?”
Really, no one glared like Sam Kage. How his whole face went dark, along with his eyes, was impressive.
“As rich as your friend is, buddy, I had that beat. And now—come on. Aaron’s worth, like, seventeen billion or something like that. I mean, he’s not asshole rich, but I’m thinking once the word billion goes after your name, does it really matter?”
“Listen––”
“Samuel Thomas Kage,” I said indignantly. “You’re the one who wanted kids.”
Not what he was expecting. “What?”
“I said we should get a dog, or fish,” I went on, “but you wanted kids. So now we have people that we have to put through college. I mean, we could have a house here too if we didn’t have people to take care of.”
He growled at me. “You’re not—this isn’t funny. These people have kids too. I just—I can’t take you on trips to Paris or Rome or any of the places that you––”
“Oh, honey, we’ll get there,” I promised, reaching out to put my hand on his cheek. “I hope we will. But I have to tell you, if I die tomorrow, my favorite place in the world is home. I love being home. That’s why we didn’t crack like a lot of other people during lockdown. I love being in my house with my people. I love my Disney backyard. I love my girl, I love all my boys, I love our freaky pets and our strange neighbors. And you’re my joy. You know that.”
He grunted, but I saw the slight smile, saw him sitting up straighter and noted the squaring of the shoulders.
“Plus, you know, you’re kind of hot and I still wanna do you.”
I got the filthy chuckle I was after, and then he leaned sideways and kissed me.
It was a good kiss, the kind that curled my toes and made my heart go pitter-pat.
On our way to the front door, Sam said that they wouldn’t like the wine we brought.
“I like this wine,” I said in defense of my favorite blend. “It’s my go-to red.”
He rolled his eyes, but his hand was on the back of my neck as he rang the doorbell.
We were a bit underdressed, me in all white, T-shirt, pants, sneakers, except for a gray shawl-collar sweater, and Sam in jeans and a pale blue button-down. He wore boots because it helped support the ankle holster. Inside, everyone looked like their invitations had read business casual. A couple of men were in suits, others in polos and slacks, all wearing jackets and no jeans in sight. All the women looked like they stepped out of high-end fashion magazines.
When I gave Margaret—call me Meg—the wine we brought her, she looked at it, thanked us, and took it directly away.
Sam snorted, and I elbowed him in the ribs.
“Told ya.”
“She thanked me,” I said petulantly.
He scoffed under his breath.
Preston came to see what we’d like to drink, and I was going to request a glass of my wine but went with a gin and tonic instead. Sam asked for a beer, found that they didn’t have any, and had an old-fashioned instead.
“No beer, ya hick,” I teased him.
“Beer’s good,” Sam grumbled. “Even Aaron drinks beer.”
That was funny for some reason.
When Preston returned, Sam asked him what it was he did for a living at present.
“I’m the VP of discovery at Lowell and Edmonds,” he explained. “We’re an accounting firm, and my job is to vet mergers and things at that level.”