Page 98 of The Summer of Us

“Kids?”

He grinned. “Until we have them, I’ll chase you. Naked.”

I giggled at the image.

“There’s a large laundry room on our side, and a smaller one on the other side for the guests.” He winked. “They can do their own damn laundry.”

“Or as the kids get older and move across the house, they can do it themselves,” I stated wryly, getting into the spirit.

“Yes,” he laughed. “Perfect.”

“Where will you build it?”

He touched my nose. “Right here.”

I gasped. “Here?”

He smiled, stroking my hair, letting a curl wrap around his finger.

“This place holds the memories that got me through those years away from you, Sunny. It was the happiest I had ever been after my mom died. It’s special to me. It was the summer of us—and now I want it to be our future.”

“You’d really build here?”

“Right here. This would be your view for the next several decades. Favorite trees and all. The house has been designed around them.”

“You-you’d be okay with that? So close to Mission Cove?”

He sighed. “I don’t mind being close to Mission Cove, I simply don’t want to live in it. I figured it was a compromise. I wouldn’t be right there all the time, but it’s only a six-or seven-minute drive to the bakery for you.”

“You don’t mind it, then? That I still would want to work?”

He gaped at me. “I don’t want to own you, Sunny. I want you to be your own person. I know what the bakery means to you. I support you one hundred percent. But one day, if you decided not to work, to sell the bakery or keep it and let someone else run it, great. Whatever you want to do. As long as you do it with me beside you.”

I looked at the beautiful gift he was offering me. A life with him in this gorgeous house he had helped design. I could see how much care had gone into the details and how much this meant to him.

A memory stirred. My younger self, staring at Linc, knowing deep in my heart that we were meant to be. That the boy I loved would be the man I grew old with. I had thought that dream was gone, but it was real and it was right in front of me. I wasn’t letting it go this time.

“I love it,” I told him. “I don’t want to change a thing about it.”

His eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He hesitated. “I have two more things to show you, Sunny.”

“I’m not sure how much more I can take.”

“These are much smaller. But important.” He tapped another building adjacent to the house. “This is the garage.” He lifted off the roof, revealing two small model cars. He lifted out the charcoal-gray Mercedes. “This is mine.”

I chuckled, the sound dying in my throat as I saw the vehicle left in the model garage. A bright copper-colored SUV. One I had seen very recently—right outside this tent. He lifted it up, holding it out to me on his palm. “Yours.”

I blinked. Looked at him. Turned my head in the direction I knew the SUV was sitting right now. Blinked again.

Was he serious?

He took my hand, leading me outside. Under the moonlight, the vehicle glowed, the sparkle in the paint bright. Linc opened the door, and I slid behind the wheel, shocked into silence. I ran my hand along the leather of the steering wheel. Touched the smooth dashboard. I had never owned a new car before. I drove Uncle Pete’s car in Nova Scotia and all the way here. When it died, I went back to walking. The van I utilized for the bakery was old and used, but it was all I could afford.

This one was so pretty.