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“Yes.” I pulled her foot until she was close enough to pick up and put on my lap, wrapping my arms around her. “We both know I didn’t give you a choice. You were either walking up to my room or I was carrying you.” She leaned her back into my chest, and I could hear the smile in her breathing. We stayed quiet for several moments until she said, “Would you ever buy a place out here? Somewhere to slow down—you know, a space that forces you to unplug?” “The air is my second home. I would hate to think I’d have to come back to the same place all the time, month after month, when there are so many spots I still want to visit.” “Ah, but you’re looking at it all wrong.” She nuzzled her face against my neck. “This wouldn’t be travel. This would be an escape. Hotels are fabulous, but they don’t
- Writer
