Love Takes Your Breath Away

by Caleigh Hernandez

  “Had, dear. Had. Why don’t you have a look around and I’ll make you a spot of tea,” she dismisses us. “Or would you prefer coffee?”

  Noting that the nausea is back, possibly never really left, I opt for the tea and shuffle my way through the rest of the simply beautiful home.

  Having a choice of going up or down, I choose the up. On the first floor, from the ground, is the master suite. It was stunning.

  Aside from the enormity of the room, the sheer draped floor to ceiling windows are the first to catch my attention. A closer inspection reveals a set of balconies. The plush carpet looks more like piled velvet I can’t resist to touch. Kneeling down and brushing the luxurious flooring, the sensation causes my eyes to shut as I take in the silky textile.

  The moment the sensation passes, my eyes open, devouring the rest of the room. Trailing a path up the adjacent interior wall, I take in the unexpectedly modern looking built-in cabinets and drawers. Their simple and minimalist design lends itself to the unfurnished room, as if the room could remain empty and still be complete.

  The en-suite bathroom was no less exquisite. The large glass-walled shower shares the floor with the rest of the room, the bathtub large enough for Diego and me to go a few rounds in…visions of what that would be like flash like a movie trailer in my mind. A soft sound escapes my lips before I can stop it, a look in the mirror and the amused look on my husband’s face tells me he heard it.

  “Is there something you want to share, bella?” he croons. His tone one that says he knows exactly what I was thinking.

  I give him a shrug.

  “Where to next?”

  With a shake of his head, he signals me to follow him. We pass a rather small bedroom on our way up to the next floor. The next two floors are nearly identical. Each with two bedrooms one fairly large and the other “average” in comparison and a bathroom. Where the bathroom on the lower floor had a shower/tub combo the top floor bathroom had a small shower stall. Every detail boasted understated beauty and simple elegance.

  Throughout Diego’s guided tour, each new room was followed by a line of questions. “This would make for a great guest room, right?” “Did you notice the tiles? Just like our place in La Jolla.” His every word felt like a fishing expedition.

  “So? What did you think?” Diego prodded as we made our back down the stairs.

  “Mrs. Pettinger had a lovely home, but what’s with all the questions, D?”

  The cat that ate the canary look isn’t as shocking. I knew he was up to something.

  “Let’s find Mrs. Pettinger,” he answers with a wink.

  I love this man, but when he doesn’t give me answers, it’s infuriating. I’d spend more time harvesting my frustration, but another wave of nausea trips my train of thought and falters my forward progress.

  We’ve made our way back down to the main floor and further down to the lower floor. My stumble has caught the eyes of both my husband and Mrs. Pettinger. Their concerned looks frighten me.

  “Is something wrong?” I ask in a near panicked tone.

  “My dear you are as white as a sheet,” Mrs. Pettinger exclaims, breaking the awkward silence in the kitchen.

  Involuntarily, I reach for my cheek, like I can confirm my pallor with the touch of my hand. However, I’m shocked to feel the clamminess of my skin. A swipe at my brow with the back of my hand and I discover that it’s not just in my cheeks.

  “I have been feeling a little queasy off and on since I got off the plane.”

  “Here,” Mrs. Pettinger guides me to the garden area outside where a patina wrought iron patio set sits. “Let’s get you that tea. Diego, be a dear and grab the tray for me.”

  The cool mid-morning air made quick work of my nauseated state. I was feeling better by the second. I could feel myself relaxing in the open space of the garden. Filled with shades of green, the blues, pinks, and purples of the accenting flowers are the perfect break to the sea of greenery.

  “This place is perfect. Mrs. Pettinger, why would you move?”

  “Izabella—.”

  “My friends call me Izzy, Mrs. Pettinger.”

  “Aren’t you just the sweetest?” It’s not really a question. The flush on the apples of her cheeks were endearing. “Izzy, staying wasn’t an option with my old bones. These stairs were going to be the death of me. Besides, a house this size deserves a family. Now that it’s just me, I have a small cottage home just on the outskirts of the city.”

  “Your home is remarkable. Did you raise your kids here?” As quickly as it appears, a pained look crosses her face and disappears.

  “I’m sorr—.”

  “Shush…it’s a lifetime ago, my dear. Unfortunately, Mr. Pettinger and I were never able to have kids, but we were blessed with nieces and nephews and now their babies.”

  We chatted on and on about the house and Mrs. Pettinger’s history in it. She mentioned that the more modern interior was a result of a persistent niece majoring in interior design. I complimented her niece’s design choices, they were modern enough without taking away from the classic architecture.

  “Well, my dear, my niece will be delighted to hear you’re appreciation of her work. Admittedly, the colors chosen were with the direction of the new owners,” she trails off, giving Diego a little nod.

  She continues, “A couple of weeks ago, my real estate agent informed me he’d found me the perfect buyers for the house. I admit the thought pained me. While I can’t live here anymore, it was going to be difficult to say goodbye. However, I agreed to meet with the potential buyers. I was surprised when it was just the husband,” she pauses.

  “Well,” Diego interrupts, “your real estate agent made a compelling sale of your lovely home.”

  My stare shoots to Diego’s face. As if he didn’t just deliver shocking news, he smiles simply back at me.

  “You see, I had no sooner finished describing what we’d be looking for to my potential real estate agent, when he enthusiastically claimed he had the perfect place,” he tells me.

  I hear his words, but my mind is struggling to wrap around their meaning. Did Diego buy this house?

  “I decided that there wasn’t any harm in taking a look, so I let him arrange for a walk-through,” he continues. “And as you can see, the house is exactly what we were looking for, bella.”

  His words sinking in, I stumble with mine. “D-does this mean this is our house?” I stutter.

  With a chuckle, the pair nod ardently.

  “Do you approve?” Diego asks hesitantly. It’s clear he’s second-guessing his choice to make such a big decision without me. I watch as concern switches to fear on his face. “Izzy?”

  “I don’t know what to say. This is…,” I stop as the waterworks start. Okay, this crying shit is getting old. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where these tears are coming from,” I sob out. “I love it! And you’re right, this place is perfect for us.”

  In an instant, Diego is up and out of his chair and kneeling before me. Relief washing his face with the delivery of my approval. “You have made me the happiest man in the world, Izzy,” placing a chaste kiss on my trembling lips.

  “Okay, then,” Mrs. Pettinger states. “I shall let you two get settled into your new home. I’m off to see my grandbabies.”

  With that, Mrs. Pettinger is up and out of her chair, making her way to the back door.

  “Mrs. Pettinger,” Diego stops her, “Let us see you out.”

  Diego helps me to my feet. Walking hand in hand, we make our way back up to what Mrs. P calls the “drawing room”.

  “Mrs. Pettinger, please stop by whenever you want. I’m sure Izzy would love the company.”

  “Yes,” I exclaim a little too enthusiastically. “It would be my pleasure. Especially, to hear more of your fabulous stories about your home.”

  “Your home, dear.” She pats my hand. “Enjoy it.”

  Reaching for the door, she stops and turns, “I’d be delighted to visit with you, Izzy, but if we
’re going to be friends, I insist you call me Grace.” She wraps me in a tight hug. “Diego has my number. Be sure to call me.”

  As Grace releases me, a bout of lightheadedness rocks me. I teeter trying to find my footing. The room becomes a blur. It’s as if I’m on the Tilt-a-Whirl at the carnival. I feel the ground falling out from under me. I reach out, but fail to catch my grip on anything.

  “Diego,” I plead as the blackness pulls me under.

  Acknowledgements

  I’d been inspired by a song with a need to tell a story when I set out to write Love Takes Your Breath Away. I wrote a rough prologue and shared it with a few friends. One friend in particular wrote, “It gave me chills …I can tell you can write.” I have been hanging on these words for the last ten months. These words have literally picked me back up and pushed me back to the story more times than I care to admit. And here you are reading this. Thank you to my “chilled” friend. Bonus, I kept one New Year’s resolution this year.

  To my amazing husband, thanks for everything. Thanks for not flipping out about my ridiculous reading habits, for getting on board with me chasing my dreams, for pick up the slack where I seemed to drop the ball, and for being the man they write stories about. I love you so much, so much. #LYSMSM

  To my daughters, never stop dreaming. With hard work, perseverance, and a few good friends, anything is possible…but in the meantime, live, laugh, love, and unicorns.

  To my forever friends and besties thanks for being the wind beneath my wings…Misty, without a doubt you have been one of my biggest cheerleaders and supporters. Thanx for always being there with mani/pedi, coffee, a hike or just a much needed break from life. You’re unwavering support of me chasing my dreams is beyond words. I love you. Kelley, my Supernatural Siren, my fellow Book Vamp…thanx for getting on the crazy train that is the book world with me. Thanx for suffering through a troubling part in Love Takes Your Breath Away, just so I could clear up my clit issue. LMFAO…Oh, and here’s to playing pretend; let it always make it so. Love you. To my AliCat, AliGator and BritSis…you rock my world and spoil me to bits. Who’d have thunk it? You continue to give me the can do attitude necessary to get shit done and you’re always there when I need to vent. Love you. To my HotDonna…I can’t remember when it all started, but we went from zero to sixty and tears and hugs in Vegas. Truly an epic time in my life. Thank you for your relentless support and ego-boosting. #HotForFootballers

  To my #bookstar, she knows who she is. This book would not have been possible without your friendship and continued support. Your first book rocked my world and shifted my foundation. Your words encouraged me to reach for my own dreams. I thought to myself, I want to be her when I grow up. It brought me into a world that I never knew existed and introduced me to some incredible friends. Here’s to epic book hangovers and filthy-mouthed Alphas. I book you.

  To my #WBW crew, Heather, Mandi, and Megan...the life of this would-be author changed the day Rexy decided we needed to band together. Only 13k words in, I was so behind the curve. Thanx for the encouragement and support and being my sounding boards for my ideas on how to tell Izzy & Diego’s story. Here’s to nicknames and kinky fuckery. Love you writer bitches.

  To my betas and proofreaders: Y’all made this dreamer girl feel like she could actually write. LOL…Michele the Fame Whore, your relentless nagging and constant support helped me to type “The End.” Your feedback was priceless and I’m so excited to continue this journey with you by my side. Stephanie, my Wheezy (teeheehee)—thanx for being another pair of eyes. Mindi Lou Who, VPTejasGirl Stephanie, & Ninfa thanks for wanting more. Jill, thanx for kickin’ ass…here’s to batting clean-up for me.

  To my mom who has always supported and encouraged my reading habits. My love affair with books began with Are You My Mother and Dr. Seuss books, but it was my first Nancy Drew book that truly triggered my incessant need for more words, more stories. Have I ever told you how much I love you?

  To my friends and inspirations: Ashley “BBB” Truelove, Faith Andrews, K. Langston, Laurelin Paige, Gia “Woody” Riley, SE “KittyHo” Dean, Amy McAvoy, Cara Arthur, Mary Baird, Thaty Batos…Thank you.

  About the Author

  Caleigh Hernandez is a not-so-perfect mom of 2 beautiful daughters, a terrible housekeeper, and sometimes, a doting wife. A few years ago, she decided to take life by the horns and throw caution to the wind. She went back to school, earning a degree in Web & Multimedia Design where her long-time passion for writing was reignited with a creative writing class. It was during her final term when she conceived a story she just had to tell.

  When not buried in the ridiculousness of everyday life, you can find Caleigh curled up with her Kindle devouring a book, watching crime dramas (she's obsessed), screaming at the TV while watching her SJ Sharks, Oakland Raiders or Oakland A's, getting cozy with a good superhero flick, or getting her adrenaline fix on a roller coaster. She hates cleaning and loathes laundry. She's a shoe whore that lives in flip flops and loves to be barefoot.

  In the immortal words of her husband, "Caleigh Hernandez is a bad ass bitch."

  Love Takes Your Breath Away is the first novella in the Truth About Love Series.