“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he says. “How about at the end of the summer? So we’re back before you start school.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, loving that he remembered my wanting to go to school. “That sounds perfect.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ISAAC
“You know I have to advise against this,” Frank says, sliding the papers I’ve requested across the desk.
“And you know I’ve already made my decision,” I tell him, flipping through the pages to verify he’s included everything I’ve requested. “In less than three weeks, Camilla will become my wife and I want to ensure, if anything happens to me, she’s taken care of.”
“I understand, but that doesn’t mean you can’t create a prenuptial agreement. What if one of you wants a divor—”
I snap my head up from the papers and glare at Frank. “Nobody is getting a fucking divorce. She’s it for me. And if she wanted to divorce me, she can have whatever the hell she wants.”
“What can who have?” Noah asks, walking into the doorway of my office. My door is open, since Camilla is at her orientation for school today. She found out a couple weeks ago she was accepted into the fashion institute she applied to and will be starting in the fall as she hoped.
“Camilla… and everything,” I say, signing the papers. “I had a will drawn up, so if something were to happen to me, Camilla is taken care of.” I look up at Noah quickly, then glance back down, flipping to the next page and signing. “I also made sure to include in there, if something happens, your job is secure. She won’t know how to run the business on her own, so she’d need your help.”
“You’re leaving her the business?” Noah asks.
“I’m leaving her everything that’s mine.” I sign the last page and pass the stack over to Frank. “Thank you for handling this so quickly.” I stand and shake his hand. “I’ll see you out.”
As we walk to the door, I stop since Noah is still standing in the doorway. “Is there something you needed to talk to me about?”
“No,” he says. “I’ve got it handled.”
“How’d it go?” I ask, when Camilla walks through the door with a bright smile on her face. She’s been like this every day since her orientation. Between planning our wedding and preparing for school, she’s on cloud nine and I fucking love it. All I ever want is for her to be happy.
Today, she left work early to meet with her advisor. She was nervous about her transcripts being sent over, but based on the look on her face, it all got worked out.
“Really good. All my classes are picked out, and because I was going more than full-time before, based on my course load, I can still graduate in May.” Juggling two boxes in her hands, she comes over and sits next to me. “I stopped by the deli and picked us up dinner and dessert.”
“I’d rather eat you,” I say, pulling her into my arms once she’s set the boxes down. She squeals when I nip at her jaw playfully.
“Later! We have a decision to make.”
“About what?”
She opens the first box. “First, we eat dinner.” She hands me a wrapped sub and takes her own. While we eat, she tells me more about school and the classes she’s registered for. I’m so proud of her for getting back on the horse. This year has been hard on her, but she’s not letting it keep her down. She has plans and dreams and I can’t wait to watch her achieve them. Camilla was meant to soar, and I’ll make sure she does.
“Okay, now it’s decision time,” she says once we’ve devoured our food. She takes the box and opens it up, showcasing an array of little cake squares. “Every part of our wedding is planned, except for the cake. I went by to order it on my way home and the baker gave me these to try. She said I can call her with the flavor we choose.”
We’ve decided on a small church wedding with just us and our close friends. The pastor will marry us, and then we’ll go to Christianson’s, Camilla’s favorite restaurant, and have dinner. It’s not the way she originally envisioned it, but it’s intimate and fits our situation. I’ve rented out the backroom, so it’s private, and I’ve made plans with the manager to ensure we have music so we can have our first dance.
Since the restaurant is located in the hotel, I’ve booked the Presidential suite for the night. The following morning we’ll head out on our week-long honeymoon—destination is a surprise.
“This is German chocolate,” she says, lifting the square to my lips. I take a bite and it’s delicious. Flavorful with a tinge of bitter-sweetness. She takes her own bite and moans, her eyes rolling backward. I’m about to tell her if she moans like that again, I’m going to be eating her, when my phone rings. It’s a call I’ve been waiting for.