“Mm, handy. Linney, Ziv, and Mouse will be busy,” King said.
I pulled him close again, nuzzling his neck before pulling back and grinning at him. “Maybe. Or maybe they’ll want to move here once our business can support more people.”
King’s eyes widened. “You think we could lure them away?”
“Ziv and Mouse want to move back to the States, and Linney confessed her desire to meet a real-life cowboy. I didn’t have the heart to tell her all the cowboys I’ve met here so far are gay.”
King laughed. “I’m sure we can rustle up a few straight cowboys. This is Texas after all.”
“That notebook was your insurance policy, wasn’t it?”
He nodded.
“Baby, why didn’t you hold on to it just in case? What if—”
King clapped a hand over my mouth. It was one of his favorite ways of shutting me up. I wished it was something a little sexier like kissing or a spontaneous blow job. But I was learning that wasn’t the Wilde way.
“No what-ifs. It’s over. All of it is behind me now. No insurance policy needed,” he said. “Now can we look at the damned house?”
“Fine,” I said, leaning in to kiss him again just for good measure. I’d learned over our Christmas visit that Hobie was a strangely accepting town. Few people seemed to notice PDA. Maybe it wasn’t so strange since half the population seemed to be the predominantly gay and extremely handsy Wilde family, but it was still unexpected in small-town Texas. It had been one of the things about Hobie that had made me feel instantly accepted and at home.
We caught up with the rest of the crazy crew and turned to take in the large Victorian home set back from the street and partially covered in overgrown vines and scraggly shrubbery. The house needed a new coat of paint and some aggressive landscaping, but it had a solid, sprawling structure with extra-wide porches and huge windows. The main floor was bigger than the second story and would give us plenty of room to expand the business over time.
West was already chatting excitedly about tearing down the row of overgrown cypress trees between the driveway of this house and the one that served the Victorian home next door that housed his medical practice. MJ argued that King and I might want privacy since we were going to be newlyweds. That was news to me and presumably King as well.
I stared at the hidden gem and imagined all the possibilities. Our residence in the top two stories and our gallery on the ground level. Coolie and Gus sunning themselves in the second-story bay window. Kids one day riding bikes down the shady street to the long, wide driveway—our kids and their cousins.
This house was just scruffy and neglected enough to have not drawn my attention when we’d been to West’s office over Christmas. But now that I was looking right at it, I could see it for all its possibilities.
“Dirk,” King whispered.
I looked over at him and saw his eyes fill with happy tears. My little cat burglar was feisty most of the time, but every once in a while, his emotions got the better of him. I loved that side of him. He’d never once held back from expressing his true emotions to me, even in the very early days when we were in Greece and he wasn’t sure whether or not he could trust me.
I pulled him into a hug and murmured in his ear. “It’s perfect.”
King laughed through his tears and nodded, pulling back and wiping at his face. “Just think, in fifty years someone will be talking about Old Man Falcon’s house,” he teased.
“Nah,” I said, leaning my forehead against his. “Pretty sure it’ll be Old Man Wilde by then.”