by S. Nelson
“Speak for yourself,” Max interjected, taking me completely by surprise.
“What?”
He was chewing on his bottom lip. “You heard me just fine.” He kissed me before moving toward Hal, the two of them stepping off to the side to talk, and that was when Daria pulled me in the opposite direction.
“Oh my God!” She literally did a little dance. “He’s going to propose.” Her voice rose with each word.
“Stop it. He is not.” Saying those words disappointed me for some inexplicable reason. I’d definitely thought about what it would be like to be married to Max, and as I’d mentioned, we’d briefly brought it up before, but then we’d always switch off to another topic, never giving much steam behind the idea.
“He so is,” she corrected, hugging me for no other reason than for her delusion. “He’s crazy in love with you. Besides, I saw his expression when you said you two had no plans of marrying anytime soon. It was as if someone had stolen his puppy.”
“I think you’re exaggerating.” She continued to beam at me, her ridiculous expression turning my thoughts around. “Do you really think so?”
“Yes. Damn, you two might even beat us to the altar.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” I diverted my attention to the other side of the room, and as if sensing I’d been watching him, Max returned my stare, winking and giving me one of his gorgeous smiles. From the looks of it, he appeared to be up to no good, but I couldn’t tell for certain because I couldn’t hear what they were saying.
After the newly engaged couple had eventually left, Max and I unpacked the rest of the boxes before helping me to finish setting up my office. Poor guy, I made him move the desk three times before I decided on its perfect placement. I offered to help him with his space, but he said he was hungry and was waiting for me to finish up.
The day after I found out about Amber Sotter being an investor in the building Max had considered leasing, he’d seen reason and had his realtor scout out a new location. And it turned out she found him an even better space. Bigger and less expensive, which was great news considering he was starting up a new firm.
Then he’d asked me to come and work with him, telling me I could take on as many pro bono cases as I wanted. Turned out, Max had a large nest egg and he didn’t need my revenue, but I wanted to contribute just the same. So for every three pro bono cases I took on, I made sure to take on one paying client.
My father was still going strong at his firm. He’d recovered from his latest heart attack and was doing well, even cutting back some hours at the office. Our relationship had started to change after he was released from the hospital. Small things, such as him calling me in the evening to talk about our day, something he hadn’t done in years. Then there were the weekly dinners he insisted on having, even welcoming Max into the fold, which excited me more than I could ever express. As the weeks passed, I saw the two men in my life grow more comfortable with each other, even laughing and swapping horror stories of past clients.
When I’d told my father about Max’s offer for me to come and work with him, he gave me his blessing, telling me I should follow my heart. He knew about all the good I wanted to do for those less privileged and while he’d seen my aspirations as hindrances before, even silly, he now viewed them as strengths.
“Are you ready? Alina? Earth to Alina,” Max called out, waving his hand in front of my face. When my eyes finally focused, he asked, “Are you okay?”
I’d been so lost in thought counting my blessings that I hadn’t heard him. Gazing at the most incredible man in front of me, I replied, “The best I’ve ever been.”
One Month Later
Alina
“IT’S TIME, SWEETHEART,” Max crooned in my ear, patting my rear end when I refused to budge. It was way too early in the morning and all I wanted to do was snuggle into the comfy covers and drift back off to sleep. But Max had other plans. “Come on, Alina,” he whispered. “You have to get up now.”
“Humph,” I complained, trying to pull the covers up to my chin, but he grabbed them and yanked them away from me. “I just need another hour.”
“No can do. Now get up. Breakfast is almost ready, and the coffee is brewing.” He threw the covers off the bed completely, laughing as he walked out of our bedroom. I believe I heard him whistling some holiday song as he bounded down the steps.
Christmas morning had stopped being special when my mother died. The following year my father had gone away on a business trip leaving me with the nanny. I didn’t think he could handle the holiday without her, and I didn’t blame him. It was very hard on both of us. And ever since then, I’d never really celebrated. I’d go in on Secret Santa at the office, and Daria and I exchanged presents, but that was the extent of it.
Until today.
Max had regaled me with stories of how his family used to celebrate Christmas morning, taking turns to open gifts, one person at a time. It would take hours some years, but he said those had been his fondest memories. Hearing him speak about those times made my heart ache for my mother and the time we’d spent together, which simply hadn’t been enough.
“Alina!” Max shouted from downstairs. “Don’t make me come back up there, woman.” To ensure I wouldn’t fall back asleep, Christmas carols bolted through the in-wall speakers, the volume cranked up too much for me to ignore. “And make sure you wear the pajamas I set out for you.”
“Oh for the love of Pete.” Wiping the residual sleep from my eyes, I snatched the outfit from the top of the trunk at the end of the bed and shuffled to the bathroom. Once finished, I joined Max in the kitchen, the aroma of bacon and eggs instantly making my stomach grumble. “I need coffee.”
Before I could situate myself at the kitchen island, a hot cup of deliciousness was placed in front of me. “There you go. Please drink up because I would like to see the woman I love,” he teased, twirling the spatula in his hand before turning around to tend to the food on the stove.
“Very funny.” As I sipped from my mug, I watched Max, mesmerized. Whether he was reaching into the cupboard for plates or bending over to pick up a fork he’d dropped on the floor, watching him was one of my favorite things. His hair was sexily mussed, the stubble on his face making him look extra yummy. He was dressed in green and red flannel pajama bottoms, NICE written across the front of his T-shirt.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving,” I replied. He handed me my plate before taking the seat next to me. “Let me ask you something.”
“Sure.”
“Why do you get the NICE shirt and I get the NAUGHTY one?” The pajamas he’d made me wear matched his. Same flannel bottoms with a graphic tee.
“Because you’re always tempting me, which is a very naughty thing to do.” He gave me a lopsided grin, the dimple in his cheek amping up his irresistibility. Sitting there with him enjoying a breakfast he’d made, on Christmas morning, was surreal. Before he’d come into my life, I never pictured such a scene, resigned to skipping over all the festivities during the holidays. Even when I’d been engaged to Chris, I hadn’t pictured us sharing Christmas morning together. But there was no place I’d rather be than with Max, creating new and wonderful memories. “Eat up before it gets cold.”
“I don’t accept your reasoning for the shirt, by the way,” I responded before I shoveled the eggs into my mouth. Closing my eyes, I let out a small moan as I savored my breakfast. He made the best damn eggs I’d ever tasted. They were scrambled, how I liked them, and the mix of salt and pepper was perfect. Whenever I cooked eggs, I somehow managed to dry them out, but his were out-of-this-world delicious.
“See?”
“See what?” I asked, munching on a piece of bacon.
“The shirt fits you.” I furrowed my brows. “You’re moaning, making me think of all sorts of dirty images.” He nodded. “It fits. You’re the naughty one.”
“Well, if you didn’t make such wonderful eggs, I wouldn’t make inappropriate
noises.”
“I make them that way on purpose. I want to hear your appreciation. It gets my engine revved. In fact. . . .” He abruptly turned my chair, reached forward and put his hands on my backside, lifting me off the stool and placing me on top of the counter. At least he’d waited until I’d swallowed my food.
“What are you doing?” I gasped, holding on to his shoulders for stability. Big mistake. Every chorded muscle felt like pliable stone, the heat from his skin flaring my desire for him.
“I want to see if I can get you to moan for me again.” He leaned forward and nuzzled his nose into the crook of my neck, making me twitch in delight.
“What about the presents?”
“I’ll be quick.”
“Well, Merry Christmas to you too.” We both laughed and as he was about to kiss me, I heard a whimpering sound coming from the laundry room. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” he lied, his untruth written all over his face.
“I know I heard something.” I tried to move him back, but he wouldn’t budge. “Max, let me down.”
He glanced in the direction of the noise before looking back at me. “Okay, but I’ll go see what’s going on. You stay here.”
Max helped me down before walking toward the room off the kitchen. “What is it?” I said impatiently, but he never answered. Instead, he reappeared carrying a large crumpled towel in his hands. “What are you carrying?” Another whimper sounded, and I moved closer. “Oh my God. You didn’t.” My eyes lit up, and I swore my facial muscles were going to start cramping soon if I didn’t stop smiling so big.
“I thought today would be the perfect day to introduce you to Stanley.” As he said the name, he unfolded the towel, and there in his hands was a tiny cream-colored dachshund puppy. He was beyond adorable. We’d talked about getting a dog together but had never made plans to actually do it.
“I love him already,” I cried, reaching out to snatch him from Max. As soon as the puppy was in my arms, he lathered my face with kisses, his little tail going a hundred miles an hour.
“Remember you said that when he messes in the house.”
“Oh, I don’t care. He’s so freaking cute. Aren’t you?” I asked Stanley, my voice reverting to one used specifically for all things tiny and cute. He whined, and I pulled him close so he could snuggle into me.
“I already had a name tag created for him. Check it out,” Max instructed, smiling as I fumbled with the puppy’s collar. He was squirming so much I had to put him on the counter, careful to hold him away from the ledge so he wouldn’t fall. Finally, my thumb and forefinger caught the silver metal plate, but when I turned it over, there were four words written on the tag, not just one.
Will you marry me?
I read it twice before it dawned on me what was happening. When I turned to face the man I loved, he was down on one knee, presenting me with a small, open black box. The ring inside was breathtaking, a large heart-shaped diamond in the middle surrounded by the same precious stone running down both sides of the platinum band.
“Alina, since the day I met you, you’ve changed my life. I’m so in love with your feistiness, your passion, and your huge heart. I can’t imagine letting another day pass without asking you to do me the honor of becoming my wife.” He blew out a nervous breath. “Will you marry me?”
I’d given up my dream of finding the right man, someone who could make my heart skip a beat simply by looking at me. A man who ignited my passion and who was not only my lover but my true friend. And then Max had entered my world and changed everything for me. He made me fight for what was important. To stand strong and be the woman I was meant to be. He made me a better person in every way possible. So, my answer was a no-brainer.
“Yes. Of course I’ll marry you,” I cried, tears suddenly dancing down my cheeks. Max rose to his full height, reached for my hand and placed the stunning ring on my finger.
“Do you see these stones on the sides of the band?” he asked, tucking an excited Stanley into the crook of his arm.
“Yes. They’re beautiful.”
“They’re from your mother’s ring,” he proclaimed, his eyes unexpectedly becoming glassy.
“What?” I asked, completely confused. “I don’t understand. How would you have had my mother’s ring?”
“Your father.” Max wiped away my still-falling tears. “When I asked for his permission, he told me he wanted me to include something of your mother’s with the ring I gave you.” I knew my father had held onto the ring he’d proposed to my mother with. He couldn’t bear to part with it, keeping it locked away safe and sound.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I beamed, wrapping my arms around his neck. “And I can’t believe you asked my dad, and that he said yes.”
“What can I say? I’m very loveable,” he joked, circling his free arm around me.
“You certainly are.”
THE END
IF YOU ARE a new reader of my work, thank you so much for taking a chance on me. If I’m old news to you, thank you for continuing to support me. It truly means the world to me.
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Clarise (CT Cover Creations), you never cease to amaze me, woman. I loved how you didn’t bat an eye when I told you I wanted to redo the cover for Blind Devotion, even though we settled on a previous one. You’ve done a brilliant job yet again and I’m already scoping out ideas for our next project together.
Becky (Hot Tree Editing), your suggestions and comments helped me tremendously. You questioned and pushed me in order to polish the story. For that, I am truly grateful. I couldn’t have done it without you.
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Elmarie, thank you so much for taking the time to beta read yet another book for me. You know how much I love waking up to all of your comments as you read the story. You rock, woman.
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To all of you who have reached out to me to let me know how much you loved my stories, I am beyond humbled. Thank you so much, and I’ll continue to do my best to bring you stories you can lose yourself in, even if it’s only for a few hours.
And last but not least, I would like to thank you, the reader. If this is the first book you’ve read from me, I hope you enjoy it. If this is yet another story from me you’ve taken a chance on . . . THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart!
S. NELSON GREW up with a love of reading and a very active imagination, never putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard until 2013.
Her passion to create was overwhelming, and within a few months she’d written her first novel, Stolen Fate. When she isn’t engrossed in creating one of the many stories rattling around inside her head, she loves to read and travel as much as she can. She lives in the Northeast with her husband and two dogs, enjoying the ever changing seasons.
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Amazon
Standalones
Stolen Fate
Redemption
Torn
The Addicted Trilogy
Addicted
Shattered
Wanted
The Knights Corruption MC Series
Marek
Stone
Jagger
Tripp
Ryder