The line clicks. “Boss?”
“Luis, it’s me,” I say in hushed tones, glancing toward the bathroom door to make sure Victoria’s still asleep. Not that I can see through the wood, so I guess it’s in vain. “I need you to buy a bar for me. Also, have a few custom-made dresses sent over.”
When Luis responds, I can hear his mirthfulness. “Yes, sir. We’re buying a bar and custom dresses for Miss Victoria. Any other surprises I should be preparing for?”
“You’ll find them out as I do.” Joke’s on him, I might be completely captivated, but he’s the one who has to do all the running around on my enraptured behalf. “Make it happen, and make sure everything’s perfect.”
As soon as I disconnect the call, my thoughts drift back over the day. To the feel of Victoria’s hand in mine, the way her mother watched us with knowing eyes. The tender, affectionate way she tended to the splinter in my hand.
That amazing kiss in the candlelight.
Even now, hours later, the memory of stroking my tongue over hers sends an intoxicating shiver through me.
As great as the kiss itself was, it wasn’t just that curling me around Victoria’s finger. It was the tiny little connections leading up to it. The surprised gasp she made when our lips met, and how she climbed into my lap and made a home there. As though she was made to fit perfectly against me.
It’d taken every ounce of my restraint not to get carried away in that moment entirely.
Victoria has spent far too much time thinking she wasn’t enough, that she had to prove herself, confirming what I’d long suspected. She truly had no idea how incredible she was.
She was strong, capable, and kind-more deserving of happiness than anyone I’d ever known. She shouldn’t need validation from Carl or anyone else.
I rub at the lingering ache in my chest, a sign her emotions were now tethered to mine. So much for promising myself I wouldn’t get too attached-just in case-not when I was still keeping secrets from her.
Right now, what I can give her is endless support while establishing she’s safe putting her trust in me.
For now, that has to be enough.
Victoria
As I sluggishly wake up from what’d started out as a tumultuous night, I notice that Simon isn’t next to me.
There’s something else different, though.
Last night proved that Simon’s as good at dealing with my emotions and the doubts I have about myself as he is at everything else. I can’t get over the proud look on his face when he fixed the sink. Or the rhythmic flex and release of his biceps.
Through the haze of sleep still clinging to me, I realize what I couldn’t quite put my finger on. There’s a rolling rack beside the bed, clothes on hangers with clear plastic, and…
Oh my god, are those dresses?
I throw off the covers and pad over to the rack, fighting a strange mix of confusion and excitement. It’s a sensation that only grows as I feast my eyes on the gorgeous cuts and fabrics.
Silk, velvet, and chiffon shimmer under the soft morning light that filters in through the window. The metallic zing of the hangers reverberates through the room as they slide against the bar. Delicate embroidery, intricate beading, and flattering silhouettes.
These aren’t just dresses, they’re elegant gowns.
I’ve only seen clothing this stunning on movie stars as they walk the red carpet. Lush and luxurious, in an array of magnificent jewel tones, it’s as if I plucked them out of a dream.
My fingertips brush over the black velvet of the deep V-neck dress in emerald green, a shade that reminds me of Simon’s eyes. The mermaid skirt is a couple of hues lighter, with a netted, beaded skirt over the top.
Next to it is an off-the-shoulder gown in crimson, the bold and striking color not one I’ve dared to wear before. There’s a sort of draped choker in the same fabric, ringing the neck and giving me visions of me tripping on it.
“Ooh.” My excited exclamation echoes around me as I withdraw the silken dress in navy blue. The dripping silver sequins catch the light and glimmer like the Milky Way.
It calls to mind what Simon told me last night, the most marvelous compliment I’ve been given by far.
Nothing shines brighter. You’re my north star.
The lump that forms in my throat leaves my voice huskier than I expected as I call out, “Where did these dresses come from? They’re so pretty!”
“Hmm, who knows.” Simon shows up in the doorway, his massive build taking up most of the frame. He’s gripping a mug of coffee by the handle as he shoots me a devilishly handsome grin. “Maybe Santa dropped them off while you were asleep.”
“Santa? Or Simon?”
The arrogant tilt to his lips only makes me fall that much harder. “What? You don’t believe in Christmas miracles?”
“Not since I was a kid,” I mutter.
Wanting to stay in this world with Christmas miracles and a fiancé so hot I might burn my tongue on him, I can’t help but turn back to the dresses. My fingers trail over the fabric longingly, as I dare to let the idea they’re for me trickle in.
I tug each one closer, examining the tags up top. “Oh wow, they’re all my size, too.”
“They’d better be,” Simon says, and then he exaggeratedly covers, “Er, Santa’s typically good that way.”
I let the dresses slip through my fingers. They fall back into a hanging position on the rack, and I pad across the room to my mysterious fiancé. “Simon, you shouldn’t have. How could you afford all this?”
He snags my hand and tows me to sit at the edge of the foot of the bed with him, offering me a sip of his coffee. “I just picked them out online. They weren’t that expensive.”
I scoff, attempting to raise an eyebrow at him, even though both of them tend to come along. “Simon, I know expensive when I see it.”
“It’s almost Christmas. Let me keep my secrets a little longer, or you’ll ruin the surprise.”
Part of me wants to press him. Finances are an important part of a marriage, and we need to get on the same page before we jump in with blinders on.
But as a gal who’s not often surprised and loves presents to a ridiculous degree, I decide it’s close enough we can wait a while longer.
Placing the warm mug in my hands, Simon tips it up as if demonstrating how to drink.
I take a sip to make him happy. And then again, because damn, that’s good coffee. Almost as delicious as the barista who brought it to me.
“Go ahead, try them on,” Simon says, bouncing enough the springs in our bed creak. Soon, my mom and my grandma will be showing up to either interrupt or encourage our getting it on. “They’ll be perfect for the reunion.”
Right. The reunion I was already nervous about enough as it was, and I’d been wondering what on earth I’d even wear. I go ahead and let myself imagine the moment, showing up to see all the people I grew up with wearing one of these extravagant gowns.
A squee escapes. I can’t help it. My excitement bubbles over and washes away my momentary doubts.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.