“It’s winter here, princess,” I remind her. “Not summer like home.”
She frowns at the concept of France and Australia having opposite seasons.
Blake chuckles, and I smile over at him, feeling the familiar swell in my chest. His blue eyes crinkle at the corners, and I love how at ease he looks in this moment. The darkness that surrounded him when we first met has gradually dissipated as he’s moved on from the demons of his past and forged a future with me and Tinsley.
When we stop at a crêpe stand near the harbour, the man behind the counter greets us with a cheerful, “Bonsoir.”
“Bonsoir,” I reply. “Nous aimerions deux crêpes, s’il vous plaît. Une au sucre, une au chocolat… et avez-vous des macarons sans produits laitiers?”
“Oui, madame.”
“Merci.”
The words come naturally. Speaking them here, in the town where my parents once roamed these same streets, feels important, like I’m carrying them with me.
Tinsley tugs on my hand. “What did you say, Mama?”
I crouch down so we’re eye level. “I ordered two crepes. One with sugar and one with chocolate for Blake and me, and some dairy-free macarons for you.”
She lets out an excited squeal. “Merci, Maman.”
“De rien. You’re welcome.”
When I stand up, Blake steps in behind me, presses his icy lips to the sensitive skin beneath my ear, and murmurs, “It’s incredibly sexy hearing you speak your native tongue, pixie.”
A shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the cold. I spin in his arms, smiling up at him. “Je suis dingue de toi.”I’m crazy about you.
He winks. “Right back at ya.”
I shake my head with a laugh. “How do you know I didn’t just tell you I was going to chop you into little pieces and feed you to the fish?”
His brow shoots up, and he squeezes my hips. “That got dark fast. I think I need to ban you from watchingCriminal Minds.”
“Don’t you dare,” I say in mock outrage. “That’s blasphemous.”
He laughs and presses a kiss to my lips. “Je t’aime.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper.
The man behind the counter clears his throat, a smile playing on his lips.
With heated cheeks, I accept our food, and we sit down to eat our sweet treats.
Blake’s phone beeps, and he slides it out of his pocket, smiling down at the screen.
“Tori sent another video of Jasper.”
He holds it out for us to watch his five-week-old nephew cooing and kicking his feet.
“Looks like he’s going to be a soccer player like his uncle,” I say with a laugh, loving the way Blake sits up straighter at the thought.
I know he’s torn about missing his first Christmas, but Tori was quick to point out he wouldn’t remember if we were there or not.
When we finish our dessert, we continue on towards the harbour.
“This is where Papa used to bring me,” I say softly, smiling at the memories. “He’d say the sea reminded him that the world is bigger than whatever problem you’re facing.”
Words that helped me through some of the toughest times in my marriage.
