“We Kellers aren’t Hunts, Archers, or Goltzes. We don’t have billions. I mean, we do well enough, but there aren’t hundreds of years of generational wealth behind it. My father’s the one who made us rich. So, if I can’t add to it, I can at the very least do my best to avoid wasting his cash, so I can give what was handed to me down to my children.”

A mature point of view.

“Your dad’s money will have doubled by the time you have kids, if you let it lie and get interest. So you can hand down the same amount to a couple of children.”

“Doubled? You’re funny. I mean, we place some of it in certain, steady income streams, but a good half is invested. It grows exponentially. I could give a dozen kids the same amount my father put in my initial trust fund and still have plenty to spare.”

That’s said casually, without a hint of arrogance. “So it doesn’t sound like you need to be a surgeon after all.”

“The market rises and falls. It’s handy to have a career.” After a second, he adds, “And I’d be bored if I just sat at home. I figured, if Magnus and I open our own private practice , I can work as much or as little as I want, have plenty of time for my family.” He bumps his feet to my knee, smirking. “I gotta help you with those dozen children, after all.”

I laugh, playing along. “Oh, hell no. I want two perfect children, thank you very much. A boy and a girl.”

“That sounds like a good starting point for negotiations. How about five? Five is less than twelve.”

“Five would turn me into a modern Mrs. Bennet, screaming about my poor nerves. I love kids. I would like to be able to say that again in twenty years.”

“Three,” he counters. “Three’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Aren’t you an only child? Why do you want a bunch of kids?”

“I had my cousins,” he says. “They’re all around my age and we spent a lot of time together. We might occasionally butt heads—we’re all rather opinionated—but growing up, it was like having brothers. Slightly unhinged brothers, but you can’t pick your family. And then, Octavia turned up. I freaking love that kid. Lisa couldn’t stop me from holding her when she was little. Enough that Vivi ended up crying every time she was put down, as she was so used to sleeping in my arms. I adore children.”

That’s…very sweet, and somehow redefines what I know about him so far. I certainly wouldn’t have pictured him holding a baby for ages.

“But did you help change her diapers?” I challenge, expecting a resounding no.