Page 51 of Psycho Saints

23

SCARLET

Istepped through the grand front doors of the mansion, still in shock that we'd actually bought this place with the giant library after we'd had an inspection. The sight took my breath away as I headed straight for the room that called to me, the giant floor to ceiling windows illuminating the bookshelves. To think I'd started as a drug baby, and now I was in this palatial home with a library that would make all book-lovers envious.

Home sweet home. How my younger self would balk.

Tyrone had gotten it all sorted yesterday, and we'd gone back to the apartment to pack and move the following day. It had come furnished to some extent, but Tyrone had stated I had full ownership over redecorating if I chose.

I wandered through our new home, marveling at the high ceilings and elegant furnishings. The movers bustled around, carrying the last of our belongings inside under Tyrone's watchful eye.

"We should bake a cake to celebrate," Cristian called out, appearing from the kitchen with a grin.

"Sounds perfect," I replied, unable to keep from smiling as I followed him back to the spacious kitchen. God, how I loved the marble countertops and windows that let in so much sunlight.

Cristian and I gathered ingredients while Tyrone directed the movers, while Julian was off setting up his new office space with all his computer equipment. Soon, Cristian, Tyrone, and I stood around the kitchen island, flour dusting the counters and floor.

"You're doing it wrong," Cristian teased, reaching around me to grab the whisk.

I hip-checked him playfully. "Says who?"

I didn't think there was a way to whisk the wet ingredients together wrong.

Tyrone chuckled, sliding the bowl of dry ingredients closer. It was nice to have him join us for something so light-hearted and different from his usual business mindset, and thankfully, his phone had not sounded off once.

We fell into an easy rhythm, measuring and mixing. Laughter filled the kitchen as flour found its way onto noses and cheeks, along with now wet batter. I dipped a finger into the mix, bringing it to my lips.

"Hey!" Tyrone's hand shot out, catching my wrist. "No raw batter. There's egg in it."

I pouted. "But it's tradition."

"Not risking our baby," he said firmly, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.

I paused, my smile faltering. "Does it bother you guys? Not knowing which of you is the father?"

Cristian and Tyrone exchanged a look, Cristian's lip quirking.

"Not at all," Cristian said, wrapping an arm around my waist.

Tyrone nodded, those dark eyes softening. "It's a Silvestri. That's all that matters."

Warmth bloomed in my chest at their words, and I smiled at them.

"How about some tea?" Cristian offered as he kissed my cheek. "You can relax outside while we finish up here. Enjoy your new home."

The idea of basking in the afternoon sun sounded heavenly, and I was still unable to believe we had this place. "That would be wonderful."

I made my way to the back patio, sinking into a plush lounge chair as I gazed around me in awe.

"Who would've thought," I murmured as I rested my hand on my belly, the warm afternoon sun kissing my skin.

Tyrone joined me after a moment, heading straight for the fire pit before me. He didn't say a word as he set about arranging kindling.

I watched him work, admiring the play of muscles beneath his shirt as he built the fire. There was something about him in his business attire, minus his suit jacket, setting up the pit that made me warm.

And then he had to go and roll his sleeves up. fuck, this day couldn't get any better.

The flames crackled to life, casting a warm glow across the patio. Tyrone stood, brushing off his hands before settling into the chair beside me.