by Diana Kane
“Only just,” I tell her as she turns the corner and wraps her arms around me. “Did you have fun with Alex today?”
“I did. She has no idea what to get Catherine for Christmas, so it took longer than I anticipated.” Glad I’m not the only one who has no idea what to get her girlfriend.
“You don’t have a curfew. I want you to have fun when you’re here, not sit in the house waiting for me to come home every day.”
“I know you do. The two weeks we were apart were difficult though. I want to spend as much time as I can with you before we have to go through that again.” I squeeze her a little tighter, knowing exactly how I felt during those two weeks, remembering Catherine telling me Isabella wasn’t doing much better. “Why don’t you have a Christmas tree?”
“I’ve never needed one. It’s always just been me for the most part.”
“You spend Christmas alone?”
“Not always. I get plenty of invitations every year. Sometimes I join Abby and her family, others I volunteer at the homeless shelter and then stay home. It always makes for a good catchup with work day. We always have a holiday party every year so it isn’t as though my life has been void of holiday celebrations.”
“You’re not spending this year alone,” she whispers into my neck before pressing her soft lips against it.
“No, I’m not,” I agree, smiling against hers. “Would you like to get a tree?”
“Only if you would.”
“Sure. Let’s go to dinner then we can go to the store and the tree lot.” I give her a quick kiss as she releases me before stepping around the corner, where I immediately freeze, my eyes locked on a pile of bags left in the entryway.
“I may have bought a few things to put under the tree already,” Isabella whispers as she locks her arms around my waist.
“A few?” I choke out. “Those are all for me?”
“Mostly. I did pick something up for everyone else as well.”
“You really like Christmas, don’t you?” I ask, my eyes still glued to the pile near the door.
“I love it. You don’t?” she asks, turning me to face her.
“I remember I did when I was a kid. But the year my mom passed, it was so close to the holiday that we didn’t really celebrate it. In fact, we never really celebrated it after that.”
“Oh Sara, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think. Is that what has been bothering you the past few days?”
“What? Oh, no. Don’t get me wrong, I miss her terribly and I’ll always wonder if she’d be proud of me, what she would make of my choices, even what she would look like now…but I’m not upset.”
“I can return that stuff, I’m so sorry.”
“No. Maybe it’s time to start celebrating the holiday again. There isn’t anyone I’d rather do that with than you.” I pull Isabella into my arms and press a kiss to her forehead. “I didn’t realize I needed so much stuff though,” I whisper, chuckling softly.
“You probably don’t need any of it. I just picked up anything that made me think of you.”
“Looks like you think of me quite a bit,” I murmur into her neck.
“You have no idea,” she replies, not knowing how very wrong she is.
*****
“Baby, why are you so tense?” Isabella and I sit snuggled up in front of the fireplace, admiring our tree craftsmanship. I realized at dinner the possible flaw in my plan. I already set everything around in the room I plan to offer Isabella as a studio. It isn’t that I think she goes snooping around the house when I’m not home, I just don’t want her finding everything before I present it to her. That leaves my only option being to tell her tonight. I’m not sure why I’m nervous, Isabella has made clear her desire to move here time and again.
“Am I?” I ask, knowing I’m keenly aware of the tension in my neck and shoulders. “Look, it’s starting to snow,” I inform her, pointing toward the window.
“It’s snowing!” Isabella excitedly exclaims. I lean back and examine her, she looks as happy as a kid in a candy store.
“You’ve never seen snow?”
“Nope. I thought they would have some when I got to New York but they didn’t. Then I thought there would be some here but nada.” I watch her as she smiles broadly and gazes out the window.
“Want to go outside?” She nods her agreement but doesn’t move. “Come on,” I instruct her as I get to my feet, extending my hand to help her up. We pull on a pair of my warm jackets, hats, scarves, and boots before exiting the front door. Once outside I clasp Isabella’s hand and lead her into the yard where she tilts her face upward and allows the falling flakes to settle and melt on her flesh.
“It’s beautiful,” she exclaims as she looks at the flakes that have collected on the sleeve of her jacket. “I didn’t think you’d actually be able to see the structural differences of each flake.” Despite the chill in the air, I feel a warmth spread through me as I watch Isabella get excited about something as simple as snow. I feel a satisfied smile spread across my lips as I allow Isabella her explorations. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“Because you see the beauty in something that a lot of people have grown sick and tired of. Because having you here in moments like this, it’s priceless.”
“You know,” she says closing the space between us, “I’ve never kissed anyone in the snow before.” She leans into me, and I gladly assist her in closing the distance between our lips. I greedily cling to her as her silky tongue slides into my mouth to meet mine. The kiss is leisurely, yet the heat it produces has me convinced that when we break for air, we will somehow find ourselves transported to the beach outside of her bungalow.
“How was that?” I whisper as I rest my forehead against hers, still not opening my eyes.
“Even better than I imagined.”
“Isabella,” I utter as I tip my head away from hers, waiting for her to open her eyes. “When we were apart I was miserable, I felt like I had somehow been fractured, that a part of me had been cleaved away. Now that you’re here though…it’s like that certain joie de vivre has returned.” I have no idea if I’m making any sense, I feel like I’m mucking this up already.
“I know,” she whispers as her cold fingertips caress my cheek, her eyes reflecting nothing but love at me.
“I need to show you something,” I inform her as I take her hand and lead her back into the house. She waits patiently as I return our jackets to the closet, neither of us saying a word. I clasp her hand as I lead her down the hallway to the closed door. “Open it,” I tell her, standing aside. She gives me a confused look before twisting the knob and swinging the door open. I watch as she looks around at my handiwork, still not saying a word. “I think that’s the paint you prefer. The sales lady said if I thought that’s what the label looked like then it was the one, that the packaging is unique.” My stomach is doing summersaults as I wait for her to say something.
“It is,” she assures me as she looks around the room again, her eyes containing a glassy sheen. “What is all of this? I thought you said you didn’t have any idea what to get me for Christmas.”
“This isn’t a Christmas gift,” I inform her.
“What then? Do you want me to paint for you?”
“No. I want to inspire you to paint.” Isabella turns her focus on me, the corners of her mouth turned upward, the tears starting to escape from her eyes. “I want you to paint here, with me.” Still, after everything, I have no idea if I’m making any sense. Why am I incapable of making a grand gesture?
“Are you implying what I think you are?” she asks, hope brimming in her eyes.
“I need you here with me. I don’t want to be away from you, not knowing when I’ll see you again.” I snap my mouth shut, if I don’t stop myself, I’ll just keep babbling.
“What about your reservations about taking me from my family?” I sigh and take a moment to compose my thoughts.
“I was miserable the two weeks we were apart. I barely slept, I didn’t
have the energy to workout…honestly it sucked. If our options are to keep going through the emotional ups and downs, end it, or for you to move here, then I chose you moving here. If you’re willing to take that chance, then I want us to be together.” Isabella doesn’t say anything. I barely catch the corners of her mouth inching further upward before she launches herself at me and claims my mouth with hers. She slowly backs me up against the wall as her hands slip under my sweater.
“Mmm, as much as I want to continue this, I need to put the fire out,” I inform her stopping her hands before they can erase logical thought from my mind.
“Not just yet you don’t,” she says as she withdraws her hands, clasping mine in hers as she guides us out of her studio. “I think it’s time you welcome me home properly,” she informs me as she leads me towards the den.
Author’s Note
Thank you for taking the time to read Providence. The Velvet series was never supposed to exist. Fusion was meant to be a stand alone novel, but after completing it, Catherine & Alex’s world continue to call to me. It came to me then that I could easily incorporate them into a story involving their friends, and thus the Sara’s story began to take shape. Providence wasn’t always kind to me. She refused to tell me her name for months and even forced me to change my original outcome well into the writing process. I’m pleased with where she ended up and hope you were as well. Book 3 in the series will be coming, although a definitive timetable has yet to be determined. I can share with you that it will focus on Valerie’s story following the conclusion of Providence.
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