99 Percent Mine(89)

“Didn’t I tell you? I got him to agree that one cat can be inside at a time.” Tom laughs up at the ceiling and his hands tug me even tighter against his body.

We will always, always be like this. Get in me.

“Wow. That’s a huge concession. Be proud.” I run my hand up his back, admiring the muscle. “By the time we’re home, you’re going to be moving her into the last house you ever have to.” Jamie gave Mrs. Valeska an open-ended lease. If Tom wanted to buy it, he could. “We’re all organized. Nothing left to stress about.”

“And you’re organized.” Tom returns to me. “You got your edits in. Any word?”

“My agent said that they’re trying to decide which image will be on the cover.” My unexpected book baby came kicking and screaming into my life a few months ago. Turns out, my photographs were good. Better than good. My first photographic art book, Devil’s End, is due out in about six months. Plenty of time for me to start my next submission, The House of Destiny, chronicling the evolution of Loretta’s cottage. All those little photos of mossy bricks and wallpaper cracks actually amounted to something beautiful, and it means my childhood memories can live on. I want to give this book to my parents on their wedding anniversary. Who knew having a goal could keep my heart beating so well? The new medication doesn’t hurt either. I swore to Dr. Galdon that I’d care for my heart from now on.

Tom nudges me until the pillar chills the skin between my shoulder blades, and bends to kiss me. I feel people staring. I’m getting used to it by now. We’re just so fucking hot, it makes me laugh. Take a look, everyone. Look what I have. Look what’s all mine.

We break apart just as it’s getting socially inappropriate. “All these people are so old,” Tom says in between breaths. “We don’t want to give any of them heart attacks.”

Dozens of eyes avert from us as we face the waiting crowds. The older women, those with white hair and walking sticks, don’t even bother looking away from us.

“They really are old,” I agree. I wonder if Tom’s checked his bank account yet. I’m getting the jitters, too. I hate having secrets from him, but this one was too much to resist, and my brother was far too clever.

“What’d you expect, choosing a trip like this?”

I remember something. “I got you a present. Something amazing to toast the house sale.” I dig around in my backpack. “I can’t even tell you how hard I fought for this. Some asshole was trying to outbid me, right down to the last second.” I tug out the bottle and present it to him.

“You got me a bottle of Kwench.” He laughs and studies the label.

“It’s worth more than a bottle of Cristal champagne. If it’s not fizzy, I’m going to be furious.”

“You know I loved Kwench because it was the drink your parents gave me, the first night I had dinner at your place? I hope it wasn’t too expensive.”

“I’m rich now, remember?”

He laughs at the carelessness in my tone. “It’s the settlement today, right? Your money should be through. Good timing.” He means before our trip.

“Yeah.” We’re distracted for a second by an overhead announcement. Boarding will be soon. It makes him more nervous, his hands squeezing. What’s tying him up in knots?

He refocuses on me. He’s good at that, making me feel like the only one. “Sad about the sale?”

“No. It was perfect. I still can’t believe the highest bidder was a family with twins. It was our last sign from Loretta. You did an amazing job on the final fitout. It turned out …” I don’t use the word perfect anymore. “So well. I’m proud of you. I know it bothers you that you weren’t there for the first bit. But you’ve got a lifetime of houses ahead of you.” I thumb through my bank account app. My big, incredible gift of freedom from Loretta has cleared. So much money. More than I can ever possibly deserve.

“It’s gone in.” I hold it up to show him.

Tom looks at the amount in my account, and like I knew he would, his brow furrows. “That’s not right.”

“Yeah, it is. Has yours gone in?” I keep my face completely neutral as he takes out his own phone and logs in to his account. Then I see his face. He holds his phone next to mine; we have matching deposits. Down to the cent.

“What did you do?” he starts, but I just laugh and kiss him.

“You really gotta read the things you sign,” I point out helpfully. “That’s important as a business owner.”

“No, Darce,” he groans. “This isn’t right.”

“It isn’t only right.” I decide to make an exception to my rule and use that forbidden word. “It’s perfect. It’s a big slice of cake, cut into three portions. You deserve it. You’re family. You’re my family.”

“You don’t know what this means,” he groans, putting a hand on his brow. I do know what it means. It means that Tom Valeska doesn’t have to struggle and grind anymore; his mom taken care of and he can be selective on what he flips next. It means that Tom has a lifetime of possibilities, the kind that the Barrett twins have enjoyed so effortlessly.

He’s just getting ready to scold me when he’s distracted. “Oh wait, here’s your surprise coming now. But seriously, Darce. I’m mad.”