Kat and Addy are wandering around the garden at our estate, just down the road from our family home. I’d bought it a few years ago, just before Addy was born, but when we visit, we often end up staying with Mother and Father. They want to see us and, of course, Addy.
This time, though, we have a reason to be here—well, a few reasons.
First, I needed to see how Kat liked it. If she wasn’t fond of it, if her face didn’t light up the way it did when she walked into our family home, I’d have to sell it.
My queen deserves only the best after all.
Of course, that wasn’t an issue, though; she’d been amazed by our home back in the States, and that pales in comparison. The old stonework is beautiful and sound, a piece of history that we don’t have much of in the States. Our home, for example, was built from the ground up, and while there’s a certain pride that comes from that, it’s not the same.
That nerdy side of Kat that calls to Oli seems to understand that as well.
Money isn’t her first concern or even on her list of top five; it’s so refreshing, until it’s an argument, that is.
“Princess, it’s time to get ready for dinner,” I call, moving out the back French doors as she comes racing out of the hedges with a smile on her face that looks like it should hurt.
The reason for her haste is apparent a moment later when Kat runs out, her arms outstretched as if ready to scoop up Addy the second she gets close enough.
“Ah, Daddy, help! The tickle monster’s gonna get me!” she screeches as she barrels toward me. The second she reaches me, she’s damn near climbing my leg trying to get into my arms.
I scoop her up into my arms just before Kat reaches her, and Addy buries her head in my shoulder, panting and laughing despite the fact that Kat drops her arms.
“No fair, running to Daddy is cheating,” Kat says with a fake little pout that has Addy’s head snapping up. I half expect her to apologize, but instead she turns and sticks her tongue out, making Kat bark a laugh.
“You little brat. I’ll show you.” Kat reaches out and tickles her, making her squirm and laugh enough that she snatches her from my arms.
“Ha, who’s going to save you now?” Kat teases before turning her back to me and leaning against my chest. “He’s my daddy now.”
“Kat,” I say in a low rumble that makes her giggle but otherwise ignore me.
“We can share him!” Addy shouts in a way of surrender, and that makes Kat freeze, allowing Addy a second to breathe before she makes it worse. “You can marry Daddy, and then he can be ours forever!”
I swear I can feel the panic that grips Kat as she stands frozen. It’s probably not a good idea to tell Addy I think her plan is fantastic, especially because I’m unsure how the others will feel about it.
“Okay, tiny terror, you need to go get washed up. Nonna and Nonno are excited to have dinner with you and spend the night together before we go back home.”
Her face falls, and I’m just about to tell her we can visit more when Kat seems to shake herself.
“Don’t be sad, Princess. I’m sure we can visit again soon. Mommy would love to come back in the summer. We can go to some beaches and maybe visit Mount Etna?” She looks at me with wide eyes as if asking if that’s possible, and I nod, a smile threatening to pull at my lips.
She doesn’t even realize how completely she owns me, owns all of us. If she asked me to buy her that volcano, I would do my damnedest.
I would buy her a home on a private beach… Oh, that’s a fantastic idea, actually.
“We can practice our Italian until then. Oli said he could start teaching us as soon as we get home.” That gets Addy excited, and as they walk back into the house, I hear her excitedly planning with Kat.
I pull my phone from my pocket and text Alex about my idea to see what he thinks. I don’t even get it back in my pocket before it dings once, twice, three times. I pull up our conversation to find links for potential options.
I guess he likes it too.
“We looking for another house?” Des asks as he comes to stand beside me, not even trying to keep his eyes off the pictures I’m currently scrolling through.
“Kat expressed an interest in visiting again in the summer, wanting to see the beaches. You know how crowded they get during tourist season. I thought this might be a better idea.”
“You know she’s going to hate it if she finds out you bought a whole new house just so she could swim,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he’s trying to dissuade me, maybe just offering a warning.
“Oh, that one for sure,” he says when I open up the third link, and I nod in agreement even before I make it through all the photos.
It’s small, with only six bedrooms, but it’s hidden away with its own private little beach, homely but still very much a vacation home. I can picture her with a baby on her hip, splashing in the water, a smile on her face that makes my heart race just thinking about it.
