The only room that felt off was the kitchen. The room was a glaring white. White cottage board cabinets, a white wall behind a whitewashed farm table, and distressed chairs. The only color in the room was the vein of gold running through the Calacatta marble countertops. Calliope had to squint against the glare.
“This room is for you.” Tox cupped her nape.
“This room? What do you mean?”
In three long strides, he crossed the room and pulled open the door to the walk-in pantry. Instead of food, the shelves were lined with paint cans, brushes, rollers, and tarps.
“You’ve been commissioned.”
She ran across the room and leapt. Tox caught her by her behind in one arm, her torso in the other as he stumbled back into the pantry. She wrapped around him like a python and whispered in his ear in a husky voice, “Can we pause the tour? I’d like to get a better look in this pantry.”
Thirty minutes, two broken shelves, and one runaway can of spray paint later, Tox and Calliope continued their walkabout.
“This way.” Tox led her out a set of paned-glass French doors. White furniture with cranberry red cushions dotted a flagstone patio and outdoor kitchen. Calliope spun in a circle. Across the side yard, she spotted Emily Bishop in the bay window of the charming Victorian next door, but before Calliope could raise her hand to wave, Emily plunged out of sight. She returned her attention to Tox, who was directing her to the far side of the yard.
“There.” Tox pointed to a trumpet honeysuckle bush at the edge of the grass. A flutter of activity had Calliope squinting. “Are those bees?” Realization dawned. “Oh my God. Hummingbirds?”
“A ruby-throated hummingbird to be precise. The lady across the street gardens. She told me what to plant to attract them.”
“You did that for me.”
He lifted a shoulder. “You said you’d never seen one before.”
She squeezed his hand, never taking her eyes off the small birds. “They really never stop, do they? It looks exhausting. Maybe I need a new spirit animal.”
“A sea turtle?”
“Before I get insulted, I’m going to hear you out.”
“They always return home to mate. Technically, to lay eggs, but you see my point.”
“Speaking of laying eggs. We didn’t use anything in the pantry just now.”
“I get tested every six months, and I haven’t been with anyone but you since my last checkup.”
“I know you’d never do anything that was unsafe for me.” She squeezed his hand. “You don’t seem too bothered by the other side effect of unprotected sex.”
“The thought of you pregnant gets me hard.”
Calliope dissolved into a puddle of goo on the grass.
“I’m on the pill, but good to know.”
Tox took a step back and straightened.
“Calliope, I’d like to propose to you.”
“Why are you shouting?”
“Sorry.” Tox cleared his throat and started again. “Calliope, I’d like to propose to you. I want you to marry me. I know what you feel, but I don’t know what you think. I don’t want to pressure you. So, if you’d like to wear the ring and think about it, that’s fine.”
He pulled the box out of his pocket and held open it in his palm. The platinum setting held an emerald-cut ice blue diamond. “If you want to live together, that’s fine too. I just…I want to be with you. Always.”
Calliope sauntered up to him, fingering the top open buttons of her shirt and gazing at the perfect ring. She pressed her belly into the cradle of his hips and looked up, up, up into vulnerable chocolate eyes.
“Let the bear out of the cage, and ask me again,” she purred.
Tox made a sound Calliope could only equate to a roar. He ripped the ring out of the box and pushed it onto her finger. Then he threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
“You’re marrying me.”
“That wasn’t a question!” Calliope protested to his backside.
“You’re goddamned right it wasn’t.”
And with that Tox marched a squealing, laughing Calliope back into the house and up to their bedroom.