Page 174 of Dissolving Prejudice

“Huh?” He turned his head to look at me, the frown on his face making me smile like a jackass.

“Just imagine this,” I said as I continued to push his wheelchair.” Four acres of land, 25,000 square feet of Mediterranean-style mansion with eight bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, and lots of green lawns perfect for your plants. Obviously, there’s a pool, a hot tub, and a gym.”

Camilo snorted. “You’re joking, right?”

“Did I mention there’s a greenhouse, too?”

“Shit,” he hissed, voice low. “You aren’t joking. Are you?”

I stopped pushing the wheelchair. “It was only sixty-five million; who wouldn’t buy such a steal?”

“Shay-Lee—”

Before he could complain more, I rounded the wheelchair and crouched before him, my hands on his knees. “It’s perfect for us, baby.” I smiled at him, just thinking of how much he was going to love that place.

His brows knitted together. “But it’s too… much.”

I huffed. “Hardly.” Sliding my fingers up from his knees to his thighs, I squeezed him tight. “Think about it this way—it’s going to be our home from now on, a place where we’ll create new memories.”

Finally, Camilo’s lips curved upward. “Is this your way of suggesting we have kids?”

My brows pulled into a deep frown. “Fuck no. You know I hate those things.”

“Those things?” His face scrunched up as he gaped at me, amused.

“Yes, Camilo. Unwanted things,” I clarified in case the message got lost by my pick of words.

He side-eyed me. “Please, you love Cyrus and June.”

“Well, duh.” I blew out air. “Because they belong to Soren. Besides, Toro is already more than I can handle.” While Camilo was here, I was the one taking care of that annoying furball.

“Eventually, you’ll change your mind.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, remind me to tell Chief not to bring his offspring here,” I muttered while rising to my feet. Ever since Chief paid Camilo a visit the other day, accompanied by his children, Camilo had started having those insane thoughts about us having kids.

As if.

Camilo went on to tell me about the painting June drew for him, which even included me, while I pushed his chair around the hospital’s garden. Walking was rather nice, but after a while, my lazy ass got tired, and we decided to rest in the shade of some oak tree. Getting up from the wheelchair, Camilo moved to sit beside me on the bench. He might have struggled with mobility, but he was technically capable of walking and standing.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, and he shook his head.

“Some gum would be nice, though.”

I snorted.

“I thought you were quitting that, too.”

All that chewing isn’t the best for his teeth.

Camilo let out a deep yawn, then mumbled something about how he hadn’t had gum for weeks before he wrapped his arm around me.

“So we’re moving?” he asked, bringing us back to the main issue.

I leaned my head against him and closed my eyes.

He smells so good and warm, like a summer vacation.

“Unless you don’t want to?”