None of them spotted Dante and Cleo, who paused in the doorway.
“Want to make a run for it?” he whispered in her ear, and she looked at him and grinned.
They quietly backed away from the crazy room and, by unspoken agreement, walked to the kitchen of the beautiful two-story beach house that she and Dante had chosen together. It was situated close to Luc and Blue’s home. They made their way into the sprawling backyard, wandered to the bench in Zach’s garden, and sat down together. Cleo rested her head on his shoulder, and they kept their fingers entwined as they sat quietly together, enjoying the beautiful summer afternoon in silence.
“Still love me?” he asked, and she angled her eyes up to look into his face. He was looking down at the forget-me-nots, which were in full bloom, and the smile flirting around the edges of his lips told her he wasn’t particularly concerned about her answer.
“Yeah, I suppose I love you,” she said casually, and watched as the smile blossomed on his lips.
“That’s one,” he counted.
“Who’s counting?” she murmured. This had become one of their favorite little daily rituals. “I love you, I love you, I love you. So much.”
He tilted his head toward her.
“I love you too, dulzura.”