Remi smirks. “Miles and I have our own language, don’t we, buddy?”
He looks affectionately at the little boy, and Miles replies with a hearty, “Buh!”
Caroline looks at me and mouths, “Swoon city.” I have to agree.
My future husband strides over to give me a kiss too, but mine is on the lips, much longer, and involves tongue. I’m breathless when he pulls back. “Be right back, baby.” I can only nod because goddamn, my man is fine.
I’m still standing there smiling with my lips tingling when he returns.
“Thank you for helping Caroline,” I say when he takes my hips and smashes our bodies together.
Remi rubs his nose against mine. He smells of sweat and grass, and it turns me on. We play golf together sometimes, but today, the day before our wedding, was for him, the Hale men, and Phil, Caroline’s father, who will be walking me down the aisle tomorrow.
“She had a difficult recovery after her C-section. I wouldn’t want her to strain anything.” Remi had been wonderful after my best friendgave birth. When I would go down on the weekends to give Caroline and Brayden a break, he always came with me, taking over baby duty while I cooked a few meals for them to last the week. He’s a pro at diaper changing now.
I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling my desire for this man grow by the second. “You want to go upstairs and ravage your fiancée?” I ask hopefully.
His hands drop to my ass. “More than anything, but I need to give you your wedding present first.” He looks vaguely uncomfortable. “That way if we fight about it, we can fuck out our frustrations and be good to go tomorrow.”
My hackles rise, and I warily ask, “Why would we fight about it? Is it over-the-top or something?”
“Way over the top,” he admits without an ounce of shame. “But you said I could give you anything.”
“Okay, Hale, let’s have it,” I sigh, preparing myself for some ridiculously expensive piece of jewelry.
Instead, he releases me and opens a drawer on the curio cabinet that now holds my salt and pepper shaker collection, pulling out a sheaf of papers. I take a seat, and he sits across from me at the small round table, placing the papers in front of me.
I hold his eyes for a moment before looking down. My eyebrows begin migrating up my forehead until I’m sure they’ve disappeared.
“You bought Whisk and Whimsy for me?”
Remi begins talking rapidly in that CEO voice he uses when he’s trying to make a deal. “Yes, and it’s completely in your name. I’m simply gifting it to you as your husband. You have full ownership. I know you’ve been saving for this, and that’s good because your savings will come in handy. This deed covers only the building and all the contents. You will be responsible for maintaining all equipment, hiring and paying staff, marketing, taxes, and purchasing ingredients, not to mention all the utilities. I’ll be here if you ever need anything, financially or otherwise, but you are the boss.”
“Okay,” I say, flipping the page and continuing to read.
“I already sent it to Doreen Smoak because you’re a very smart woman, and I know you would want your attorney to look over it. Shemostly does family law, so another lawyer in her firm that deals with property law looked at it and deemed it legitimate and completely yours with no strings attached. There’s a letter on the back from them.”
I turn to the final page and read over the letter, which is only a few sentences confirming what Remi said.
“I see. That was very thoughtful of you.”
“I know you wanted to open your bakery all on your own, and you will,” he rushes to add. “You’ll simply have a head start because you’ll already own the property. But like I said, you will run this business because it will be yours. All you have to do is sign on the next to last page in front of a notary.”
He stops and looks like he’s bracing for impact, his posture stiff and his lips tensed into a straight line.
His form is a blur through my tears when I look up at him and say, “Thank you.”
Remi waits for more, and we stare at each other for a long time. “And?” he asks warily.
“And I love you.”
“You’re… you’re not mad?”
I tap the papers as a tear breaks the dam and slides down my cheek. “Did you give me this very generous gift because you love me?”
He looks a bit shocked at my response. “I did. As your husband, I want to hold you up, not hold you back.”
That only activates more tears. “Then again, I say thank you. It’s the best gift you could have given me, and I love you with all my heart.”
