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“I couldn’t wait,” I tell her honestly. “I wanted you too damn much. Don’t worry, this is the amuse bouche.”
“First Spanish. Now, French? You lied the first day we met. You’re a polyglot, Mr. Van Der Linden,” she teases.
I slump on the bed next to her, circle an arm around her waist, and scoop her closer to my body. “You flatter me much,” I piggyback on her observation. “I wish my language skills were more sophisticated. But since English is the only language I’ve mastered, I’ll keep it simple. I intend on tying you down… among other kinky things I want to do to you. I intend on fucking you in every position, on every surface, in every room of our penthouse before I let you step outside.”
“Oh.”
“I’m going to make you scream until you can’t scream anymore. You okay with that?”
Wide-eyed she nods vehemently. “More than okay.”
I wink.
She beams.
We lie in our California king-size bed, in a comfortable silence, me spooning her in my arms.
“I feel so safe. I always do when you hold me.”
“The beautiful thing about you moving in with me is that we’ll fall asleep like this every night, and we’ll wake up the next morning with me curled around you.”
“So much to look forward to.”
My eyes bore into hers.
“What’s up with the intense stare?” she asks.
I kiss her forehead. “Do you know how much I love you, Sofia?”
“Every time you say that, it makes my heart swell.”
I interlace our fingers together. “Your heart is only going to get bigger, because I intend on telling you how much I love you every single day of my life.”
Her eyes tear up. “I love you so much, Bryce.”
Chapter 45
Sofia
Two and a half months later
The Spanish Christmas song changes to Pentatonix’s “Carol of the Bells”—the original version with Avi Kaplan.
That man’s voice is a gift from God.
“Fifteen days before baby Jesus is born!” I say in a cheery voice.
Humming, I straighten the three pots of poinsettias––two red ones flanking a white one––on the dining room table.
Satisfied, I return to the kitchen to make sure the pantry is full. Once that’s done, I open the refrigerator and do one last check to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything. For good measure, I confirm I placed the blueberry scones in the freezer.
Abuelita and Abuelito’s house is ready for Christmas!
My phone rings.
I run to the living room where I left it next to my handbag on the coffee table. I snatch it and accept the call.
“Don’t tell me, you’re at the house, making sure everything is ready for when our cousin arrives. Again.” The sarcasm in my sister’s voice doesn’t go unnoticed.
