Page 18 of Mine to Keep

Cheers erupt around us, and the sound of Kate’s angelic laugh fills my ears and warms my heart. “I love you too.” Her absolution is sweeter than any victory I’ve ever known.

I surge to my feet, taking her with me and cradling her body against mine as I swing her around. A few tears roll down her face, but her smile is big enough to see from across the room. It matches mine, and I feel like the luckiest man in the world to be with this woman.

Everything else fades into the background as I set her on her feet. “Think you can cut out a little early today? I need toproperlymake this up to you.”

“Take her!” someone yells, and we all share a laugh.

I lean in so only Kate can hear me. “Oh, I’m gonna take you, alright. Daddy’s missed you, baby.” I can feel her cheek heat asit’s pressed to mine while I tug her earlobe between my teeth. “Shall we give them a finale?” I tease before leaning back to see her face.

“You mean… something like this?”

There she is.There’s the sassy girl who makes my heart skip a few beats. Then Kate lifts her hands to the sides of my face and pulls me down to hit me with a soul-shattering kiss.

Mocking kissing sounds mix withoohsand claps from the office ladies, forcing us to part with a laugh.

“Grab your stuff, baby. I’m taking you home.”

EPILOGUE

KATE

Two Years Later

Stepping out of Table Bruno Verjus with Tommy’s hand in mine, I feel a wave of contentment wash over me. The warm Parisian night embraces us, carrying the intoxicating scent of blooming flowers and the sound of distant laughter. As we walk toward our waiting car, my mind wanders back to the exquisite meal we just shared.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I swear that man was flirting with you,” Tommy grumbles beside me, and I playfully swat his bicep.

“No one was flirting with me. Chef Bruno just wanted to introduce himself. He was charming. And the dishes he prepared for us were heavenly.” I remember how the chef had described his latest creation, his passion for food evident in every gesture. The exclusive menu he crafted for us was divine, and I felt honored that he’d visit our table.

“I can admit the food was amazing. I’m glad you enjoyed it, baby.”

Our driver holds the door open for us while Tommy helps me slide into the back seat, then follows behind me. He tugs me into his side, wrapping a comforting arm around my shoulders as we ride through the illuminated streets of Paris, the city lights casting a magical reflection off the Seine. My eyes trace the enchanting cityscape, taking in the beauty around us. I believe Audrey Hepburn said it best in the movieSabrina:Paris is always a good idea.

As we settle into companionable tranquility, I find myself lost in thought, reflecting on the past couple of years with the man at my side. What started off as a secret dalliance grew into a true romance filled with love and adoration. Despite the challenges we faced early on, our connection has proven to be more powerful than any obstacle thrown our way, even stronger than an angry father who socked my forty-nine-year-old boyfriend in the face.

Tommy’s warm fingers intertwine with mine, drawing me back to the present moment. The unspoken affection is tangible, and I feel the weight of our shared history grounding me before the car comes to a gentle stop in front of my favorite place, the Eiffel Tower. The iconic structure looms above us, its lights twinkling like stars against the night sky. Call me cliché, but I’m in awe every time I see it.

“Look at that view,” Tommy says, his voice filled with wonder. “It never gets old, does it, honey?”

I shake my head, my eyes locked on the mesmerizing sight before us.

We exit the car and make our way to Madame Brasserie for dessert, a leisurely end to our fine-dining experience. The bustling restaurant exudes a magical ambiance that can only be captured inside the Eiffel Tower. We settle into a cozy table by the window, gazing into the night at our majestic view.

“Remember the first time we came here?” Tommy asks, a fond smile spreading across his face.

“You couldn’t stop talking about how amazing the chocolate soufflé was.” I laugh at the memories of him going on about it for weeks after we’d returned home.

“And you couldn’t get enough of the crème brûlée.”

“I think we can agree that both desserts were equally delicious.”

“You’re right, honey. You’re always right.” He shoots me a wink as he reaches for my hand on the table and lifts the back of it to his lips.

We place our order and enjoy our digestifs, soaking in the extravagance of our surroundings. After a short while, the waiter arrives with our desserts, a traditional tarte tatin and a pillowy tower of chocolate-covered cream puffs. We dig in, savoring each bite and barely containing our gratified moans. It’s in these moments that I’m thankful I have a partner who enjoys food just as much as I do.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” Tommy asks, his gaze intense and sincere.

“Maybe once or twice,” I tease before taking another sip of my Sauternes. “I don’t mind hearing it again, though.”

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