She turns to the water, but I shake my head, brace her shoulders in my hands, and turn her to the land. It’s a flat spot with some trees and a small meadow, which would be the perfect spot for a home.

“Not the view, the land, love.”

She frowns and looks around. “It’s pretty, that’s for sure. I like the trees. I’m sorry, what am I missing here?”

I wrap my arm around her shoulders and kiss her temple. “How would you feel about building a home here? With me.”

Her head whips around, and she stares up at me in shock, the way she did when I asked her to move in with me.

Was that just a week ago? It feels like a lifetime.

“Seriously? You own this property?”

“If you like it, we’ll own it.”

Her jaw drops. She takes it all in again and then turns to look out at the ocean.

“I don’t see anything here not to like, Keegan.”

“It won’t happen overnight. It’ll take time to find the right plans and then actually break ground and build. But it’s something I’d love to do with you.”

She smiles and leans into me, offering her lips, which I gladly kiss. “I’m honored and excited. It’s gorgeous.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to live in the apartment above the pub, though? Because I don’t mind it at all, Keegan. I don’t want you to think that I hate it there or something. I’m fine.”

“We’re fine there for now. But I can’t help but look to the future with you, and I want more, Izzy.”

“We have time,” she assures me and hugs me close. “We have time for all of it.”

Chapter 16

~Izzy~

Oh my God. What is wrong with me?

I climb into the still-warm bed, burrow under the covers, and will the nausea to go away. I can smell something coming up from the pub. Usually, it would make my mouth water, and I’d go in search of whatever brilliance Fiona was whipping up.

But today, it only makes the nausea worse.

I’ve been working both jobs for almost two weeks, and the whole time I’ve felt this way. At first, I blamed it on nerves and exhaustion. My hours are totally messed up, and I don’t have a routine.

But now, I think something’s wrong.

I reach for my phone and Google my symptoms.

“It has to be the flu,” I mutter, reading the small screen. “Except I don’t think I have a fever.”

I press my hand to my forehead. Nope, no fever.

“I don’t have chills. Body aches. Do sore boobs and hips count? I mean, they’re part of my body, so I guess they count. I definitely have the nausea.”