He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck. “Perhaps I should buy an island. You like the beach.”
“Or there are plenty of free ones we could visit.”
He gives me a half smile.
“But whatever makes you happy, of course. An island sounds lovely.”
“Nice save,” he whispers. “Ask another question. Go on, I’m an open book.”
“All right. What other businesses do you own?”
“We came into our trust funds at twenty-one,” he says. “A bit earlier than some. Dad made a competition out of who could invest it the best. Make the most profit.”
“Matías was right. Ambition and competition should be the family motto.”
“Just remember to put it in Latin. We get bonus points for being pretentious assholes and all that.”
“Ambitio and competere, then.” I shrug. “That’s probably wrong. I’m okay on Latin roots, but I never really studied the language or grammar.”
“You’re okay on Latin roots?”
I narrow my eyes. “Etymologically speaking, yes.”
“I love how you have all this random knowledge stored in your head.”
“It’s not random at all. Just slightly impractical.”
The small town and tourist shops disappear behind us as we reach the Rocky Mountain National Park. He lowers the window to pay the ranger the fee. Everything is green and beautiful. Lots of trees and towering mountains. Plenty of tourists and other vehicles on the road as well. Still, out here, the air is crisper and fresher than in the city. The fall colors are spectacular.
“I own a few different properties,” he says, his gaze on the twisting road heading up into the mountains. “But I mostly wanted to focus on hospitality and entertainment. I partnered with a production company specializing in documentaries, a recording studio in Denver, and a small record label that have all done well. Then there’s the bars and nightclubs, which you know about, eight of them throughout Colorado. Also, I own Downtown Gin. It started out small-batch, but we’re looking into expanding.”
“You own Downtown Gin?” I ask, surprised.
“I do.”
“That’s some top shelf goodness, Beck.”
“Thank you. I have a small team monitoring things in offices at the Heritage.”
“How were you able to walk away for six months?”
“I hire good people,” he explains. “And Matías helped. But our investments had to be able to be run as a sideline. Dad expected us all to be full-time at Elliot Corp.”
“I’m amazed any of you had time for a life.”
“‘Sleep is for the weak.’ Another one of Dad’s quotes.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah, well, that kind of workload isn’t sustainable. The way he lived his life and his recent death proved as much.” His face tenses as his large hands maneuver the steering wheel with precision. “At any rate, Ethan was overall winner on highest profit margin, that’s how he got to take over Elliot Corp. He went heavily into building while Emma concentrated on green energy sources. She did damn well too. But I’m happy with what I’ve achieved.”
“You should be.”
“Thing with wealth is, you have to be wary of getting carried away with how things look on paper. Most of the money is tied up, some of it long-term, and actual worth is dependent on market value should you sell,” he explains. “Actual available cash is less than you’d think.”
“But enough to buy a jet, apparently.”
“Not that you’re judging.”
“Never.”
High up ahead an eagle rides a thermal, its wings stretched wide. Nature is amazing. Now that we’re gradually getting up above the tree line the view seems to go on forever.
“Are you really going to look at tiaras?” I ask, tone dubious.
He laughs, which is not an answer, and pulls into a parking space at a lookout. There’s an amazing view behind a low stone wall and toilet facilities. A good thing since the three coffees earlier have caught up with me. More than a few people gather around the car to gawk and admire, which is ironic given the stupendous natural beauty in every direction. Meanwhile, we take selfies of us together with the valley and mountains as a backdrop.
Wind whips my hair about and I cuddle up to Beck. With my arms wrapped around his waist, I can press my ear against his chest and feel him breathe and listen to his heartbeat. Just enjoy the moment. He tucks his hand into the back pocket of my jeans. Hard to say if I’ve ever been this happy. It’s such a gift, getting to have this intimacy with him. I know the sound of his voice and the scent of his skin. How he looks when he’s asleep and what he’s like when