Hope unfurled in William’s chest, but there was still something he needed to say. “Atti,” he said. “Look at me.”

He watched Atticus take a slow, deep breath, before he turned back to meet William’s gaze.

“I love you,” William whispered. “I know that I have told you that a million times already, but I need you to know that I will continue to tell you every day that I am lucky enough to be by your side. Your love will always fill me, Atti. It has always been and will always be enough.”

Atticus’s jaw flexed, but William could see the emotion threatening to overflow from Atti’s bottomless eyes. “And Tatiana?”

William felt a smile tugging at his mouth as he thought of her becoming a part of them. He could see it so clearly: her between them, her laughter and wit and softness smoothing some of the harsh edges the two men shared. “Perhaps, after everything we have given this place, we deserve to have more than enough?”

Leaning forward, Atticus pressed a kiss to William’s forehead. “We will find her,” he said, brushing his thumb over William’s cheek. “Trust me, I have a plan.”

William nodded. “How can I help?

Twenty-three days.

Atticus and William spent twenty-three days hovering over the incoming applications before they found what they were looking for.

“Atti,” William breathed, and Atticus immediately looked up from where he was scanning an application for a candle making shop that made candles in the shapes of various species of dogs.Perhaps he would give one to William as a gift.

“Did you find it?” Atticus asked, leaning over to look at the document that William held.

William nodded. “It has to be her,” he said, pointing at the form. “More butter than a man could ever know what to do with, flour, sugar, a wide variety of fruits and produce. It is also requesting three commercial ovens and seating for thirty patrons.” His golden eyes looked up at Atticus, so full of exhaustion but also achingly hopeful. “Is it her?”

Atticus nodded, feeling a smile spread, and he leaned forward, pressing a firm kiss to William’s mouth. “Make sure they fulfill her application, pup. I have a few things to take care of and then I will meet you at the house.”

“And then we will go get her?” William asked.

“Yes, love. Then we will go get our girl.”

William made quick work of toweling off, shaking out his wet hair and sending a deluge of droplets to the floor. Naked, he stalked into the room that he and Atticus shared, tracking down a pair of worn jeans and a gray henley he knew Atti liked.

He padded on bare feet down the ostentatious carpeted staircase, pausing when he picked up the distinct scent of someone else in the house. It was familiar…floral and slightly sterile…Marjorie?

He picked up his pace, jogging the rest of the way down.

There, standing across the bar from Atticus, was Marjorie. She was dressed smartly in what William recognized as contemporary professional attire, her red hair cropped tightly at her chin. She had the kind of presence that made William want to sit right down and ask if there was anything he could do for her.

She reminded him a bit of Atti in that way.

But there were greater concerns than Marjorie’s command of a room. There was the fact that she was here, and she and Atti were talking, and?—

William forced a breath through his nose. “Atticus, a word, please?”

Atticus glanced over at him, dark eyes softening. “Of course, love.” He looked over at Marjorie. “Just a moment.”

She gave a sharp nod. William walked back to the staircase, ears attuned to the sharp click of Atticus’ shoes behind him. When he was confident that they were out of hearing distance, William turned to face the other man.

“What is going on, Atti?” He was careful to keep his voice low.

Atticus looked at him patiently. “We are finalizing the transfer.”

“The transfer?”

“Yes, pup,” Atticus said, his voice soft and gentle, the way it only was with him. Well, with him, and the sweet Tinker Bell who had fallen into their life. “Marjorie and Jeremiah will be stepping into the job as soon as we depart.”

William couldn’t keep up. His head felt sluggish, any bit of rationale overwhelmed by the pounding of his heart. “The job?”

“I,” Atticus’s throat bobbed. “I have finalized the transfer, love. I thought that was what you want–”