Page 94 of Matteo

She squeezes my hand. “Forty times? Holy freaking crap.”

I chuckle as I bring her up against me. I’m trying to remember the real estate agent will come in soon. There’s also the dog in between us. “Exactly. The owners of this place are more than receptive to an offer.”

Another sigh. “Okay, we can look at it.”

Janet is waiting in the foyer, her smile wide at the flower arrangement. “I love this for you both. You ready for the tour?”

Amy nods.

It’s a home modeled after a chateau in France—complete with six-inch-thick walls—I watch my woman grow softer and softer with happiness with every step we take through it. I don’t love the place as much as she does. The roof in one corner needs to be redone, the owner disclosed. I can clearly see water has affected the plaster beneath it. That promises to be a pain in the ass. If one corner needs to be redone, I would rather do the whole damn thing at once.

All the large open space Amy loves so much promises to be a problem if the temperature dips below fifty degrees. At least the place was built with forced air heating and cooling, updated less than five years ago.

Once the tour is complete, I think the real reason the owner was willing to sell was the cost of maintaining it. It’s more likely they spent so much time in Aspen because it was less expensive.

None of that matters, though, because Amy loves it. Which means I’m going to love it—eventually. We end the tour back in the foyer, where Janet gives us time to discuss it.

The dog is relieved all the walking is done, even though Amy carried him most of the time. He settles down at Amy’s feet and stares up at her in adoration. I think I’ll grow to love the dog much sooner than the house.

Her sigh is sad. “This place is going to cost us a fortune, isn’t it? I saw the water stain. And?—”

“And nothing. I saw how much you love this place. Let me give you the home you love.” I don’t want her to accept what she feels she has to. I want to give her exactly what she wants in every way.

“Okay, yes, please. Can we buy this home and build our family here?”

Janet is waiting with the paperwork. I give her the number I’m willing to start with. I sign off on it, and she can submit it from the driveway. Before we’re back at the realty office, the offer has been accepted.

I was worried about the dog, but he’s a chill little thing who sits in Amy’s arms the whole drive.

Once we’re home, Doris is surprised by the question I ask, as is Amy. “Sorry,” I give Amy a peck on the cheek. “If you’re happy with the way everything has gone so far? I know I am, and Layla loves you. I would love it if you lived in once the house is ready. It will probably take six weeks or so for the roof and the plaster work to be redone. We’ll hire a devoted housekeeper, for when we move in. Your only worry will be Layla and our new baby we hope to have soon.”

Amy rolls her eyes at me. “I’d love it if you said yes.”

Doris is smiling wide. “I’d love to. Layla is a doll.”

“I’m also going to need you to get your passport if you don’t have it already. Over the next few years, I’ll be taking Amy to sightsee art in the best museums. We will want you to go with us.”

“Yes, sir. I have a passport that’s only a few years old.”

Layla begins crying. Amy kisses my cheek. “I’m going to go get her.”

I’m saying goodbye to Doris when Amy comes back into the living room with a pouting Layla. The moment Layla sees me, she holds out her arms for me. I take her and give her kisses on her neck.

My phone rings. It’s my mother. “I swear she knows we bought the house.”

Amy laughs and takes my phone from me. “Hey, Mom.”

I let their conversation about the house wash over me as I introduce a laughing Layla to Walter. Walter loves Layla almost as much as Layla loves him—it takes a few times to encourage her to be gentle before she figures out what I mean.

Walter hops down from the couch and runs over to the French doors. The rescue promised he was potty-trained, but that’s no guarantee. I'm glad they didn’t lie to get him out.

Since it’s become overcast and sprinkling, I decide to let him wreck Javier’s putting green. I’ll buy him another one. Layla thinks everything the dog does is hilarious.

I catch the trail end of what Amy says. “—a birthday party for Layla.”

I’m paying more attention when Amy’s eyes meet mine and she shrugs. Since I’m lost, I shrug. I also feel bad. I forgot Layla’s birthday is in a week—two days before our wedding day.

“Really, Elizabeth. I promise it’s okay. You and Matteo taught me that. She’s not going to remember the day. It’s more for me than her. Just a day with her and her new cousins she adores and some cake is perfect for her.”

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