“I don’t love the condo or downtown. I bought it because it had good security and was available when I was ready to buy. Seemed like a smart investment. But it wasn’t home.” I pause to steady my racing heart. “You’re my home. You’vealwaysbeen my home.”
Her tears run anew, and this time I kiss them away. Then I capture her sweet, salty lips.
“A farm, though?”
I lick my lips to savor her taste, my eyes drinking in the scenery. “Listen, cookie, we don’t need to become farmers. That’s irrelevant. But take a look around. I might have picked this place, but it’s one million percent you.”
“What makes you say that? I’m not saying you’re wrong. Just curious why you’re so certain.”
I don’t need time to contemplate my response. It surges from me. “Out here, you can’t help but be a part of nature, which is exactly where you shine the brightest. You shouldn’t settle for good enough just to make someone else comfortable. I don’t want youfinein downtown. I want you thriving in a place that sings to your soul.”
I slide my arm around her, holding her close to my side. “If I’m wrong, tell me. We’ll find another place on whatever timeline you want. This is a no-obligation move. No pressure.”
“No pressure,” she echoes in an airy whisper, locking her arms around my waist. “Sounds good to me.”
I kiss the top of her head and inhale the sugary scent of her shampoo.
“There’s only one problem.” She cranes her neck to peer up at me, then jabs her finger into one of my dimples. “Boop.”
“My face is a problem?”
“No, that was something I’ve wanted to do for about fifteen years.”
She presses off me, turning her attention to the pecking birds. Flicking her pointer finger up and down, she silently counts them. Her lower lip juts into a pout when she’s finished. “Not to sound ungrateful, but there’s one missing.”
“We’ll keep trying to get Matt, cookie. He’s a wily one.”
Through a sigh, she releases an airy laugh. “He sure is.” Her face crinkles with curiosity. “Did you buy them from the lesser adjutant?”
I bark out a laugh, startling the birds. “I forgot you called him that. And you were right. He’s a hideous fucker. Should’ve arrested him for that alone.” I feign a cringe. “Sadly, it isn’t a federal offense. I checked.”
“How much did he charge you?”
With a shit-eating smirk in place, I yank the bag of seeds over. “He was very agreeable to my terms.”
“Reed?” She cants her head. “What does that mean?”
I contort my face into a snarl and curve my fingertips like a gangster. “Let’s just say I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
This time, it’sherburst of hilarity that makes the peacocks scuttle away. They come right back, though.
“Was that aGodfatherimpression? Please, no. Just no.” She snickers through her cupped hand. “I might need to limit your brother-time.”
Shit. She’s right.
Fucking Perry.
If I didn’t love him down to my bones, I’d hate him.
Nah. That’s not true. I imagine nobody can hate that DNA mooch.
When she’s done roasting my impression skills—totally fair—she returns to her question. “What was the deal you made with my former neighbor?”
“He gave me your flock, and I didn’t arrest him for a slew of bogus charges. Most of which I made up because Florida law is unsurprisingly scant on peacock protection.”
“Muster,” she blurts.
“Pardon?”
