When Love Changes Everything (Linder Family #6)

7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Lisa

Mateo has never kissed me. He pulls me to the brink every time, leaving me desperate for his lips on mine—and yet, all I ever get is a sweet, maddening kiss on the cheek. It drives me completely, categorically insane.

This time, he pulls away, mumbling something about having to run an errand. I fight the urge to demand that he finish what he started. But I let him go, my mind racing with the thought of what it would be like to kiss him. What it would be like to be his forever.

The idea consumes me, and before I can think it through, I grab my phone and call Loren, hoping she can help me make sense of the storm of emotions whirling inside me.

“Katherine’s here helping with the twins,” Loren says. “Hang on, let me put you on speaker.”

They fall silent as I recount everything, right up to the point where Mateo told my father we’re engaged.

“I don't think this is a good idea,” Loren says quietly, her sensible nature pulling me back from the clouds. “Please tell me you're not entertaining such a scatterbrained idea.”

“Now, hold on,” Katherine cuts in, her voice thoughtful, as if she’s already piecing together the puzzle. “This could actually work.”

"Lily is going to kill me," I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

“Lily and Noah won’t be back for two more weeks, maybe three," Katherine says. "Your dad will be gone by then. Lily never has to know.”

“Katherine!” Loren exclaims, her voice filled with disbelief. “You’re all insane.”

“Listen,” Katherine begins, her tone serious. “Mr. Preston needs to be treated with a heavy hand. One only Mateo can deliver.”

“What do you mean?” Loren asks.

Katherine leans into the idea, unflinching. “Mr. Preston is the only man on the planet Lisa can’t stand up to. You honor him, because he's your father, but let's be honest, he takes advantage of that respect—verbally and emotionally abusing you. We’ve all seen it. Aaron, Adam, and Dad have tried to put him in his place, but when it comes down to it, he’s still your dad. And there’s only so much anyone can do. But your husband-to-be? Well, that’s a different story.”

She lets her words hang in the air before continuing. “Your dad needs a hard lesson in how to treat a woman—especially when that woman is his daughter. Mateo can teach him that lesson. And I think you should let him.”

“I don’t agree,” Loren’s gentle voice breaks through. “A lie is never a good idea, no matter the reason.”

"The only thing Dad and I have in common since I left California is my trust fund. Once that’s squared away, I seriously doubt I’ll ever see him again."

“Are you okay with that?” Loren asks, her voice soft.

I take a deep breath. “Yes. I love him, but I refuse to continue putting myself in his line of fire.”

“Then Mateo’s plan is perfect,” Katherine says, her voice confident. “It’ll make your father’s stay a lot more bearable with Mateo by your side. You might owe him respect, but Mateo doesn’t owe him a dang thing. Let him go buck wild on his—”

“Katherine!” Loren interrupts, her voice a sharp rebuke.

Katherine chuckles under her breath. "What? You know I'm right."

***

After I end the call with the girls, my stomach begins to grumble, reminding me that I haven't eaten in hours. I decide to make myself a snack, spreading strawberry preserves over crackers, the sticky sweetness a small comfort. Standing at the counter, I eat them one by one, the tart jam mingling with the crispness of the crackers as I savor each bite. But no matter how much I try to focus on the simple pleasure of the snack, my thoughts keep drifting back to Mateo. His smile, his touch, the way he makes me feel like I’m walking a razor-thin line between excitement and madness.

I’ve glanced out the window a few times to check if my car is still in the driveway. When I look again now, my smile widens—my car is gone. Which means that Dad is gone. Probably out somewhere licking his wounds. The pang of guilt I feel over that just proves how deeply I’m used to his cutting words—and how I’ve been trained to shoulder the blame for each one of them.

“ Hermosa , I’m home.” Mateo’s deep, husky voice sends a rush of uncontainable excitement through me, leaving my heart fluttering wildly.

I turn around to face him. “Hi,” I say, leaning back against the counter. “Where have you been?”

His eyes light up as he steps closer, a mischievous glint in his gaze. “Had to pick up something,” he says softly. “What do you have there?”

"Just a little snack," I say, lifting a cracker up to him. “Want some?”

He tilts his head, his eyes drifting to my lips, lingering there with a heat that makes my heart skip. “You’ve got a little something… right here,” he murmurs, his voice low. His finger lightly brushes his own lip as he points it out, and I reach up to wipe it away.

But he catches my hand and gently pulls it down between us. “Let me,” he says, his eyes locked on mine.

He draws close, and I feel his breath against my skin before his lips brush the corner of my mouth—so close, yet so tantalizingly far. My heart pounds in my chest, every fiber of me begging for him to claim the kiss that's long overdue, but instead, he pulls back slightly and opens his mouth. I slip the cracker between his lips, and he chews slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. Finally, a smile spreads across his face. “It’s good,” he nods as he gently licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion that feels far too intimate.

I tear my gaze away, my cheeks burning as my mind races, desperately trying to erase the forbidden images his every move has etched into my thoughts.

Then, I watch as he reaches for my hand. “Wait!” I laugh, pulling back a little. “Let me wipe my hands—there’s strawberry jam all over—”

But before I can finish, he takes my hand and brings it to his lips. His gaze is still locked on mine, steady and intense, as he gently slips each jam-covered finger into his mouth. One by one, he savors the sweetness as though it's the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

"Mateo," I whisper, my breath hitching in my throat.

“Uh-hum,” he says, his voice low, the world narrowing down to the two of us, here in this kitchen, caught in a moment that feels all-consuming.

I swallow hard, trying to steady my racing pulse. “You’re trouble, Mateo,” I whisper as he steps closer, crowding me against the sink until his lips hover just a breath away from mine.

Instead of the kiss I’m expecting, he brushes his lips against my cheek before he whispers, “Marry me, hermosa .”

His words leave me breathless. My ears ring with disbelief, but there’s no mistaking what I just heard. My eyes widen, my mouth goes dry, and my knees threaten to give way as my heart stumbles wildly, unsure whether to race forward or stop altogether.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look at me. The intensity in his gaze steals the air from my lungs, and I can see it in his eyes—he’s not kidding.

I shake my head until I find my voice. “Mateo, I—”

My words falter, caught between the protest forming on my lips and a yearning I’m too afraid to name.

He smiles and, without a word, drops to one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. “If we’re going to convince your father—if I’m going to make sure he understands he can never speak to you that way again—then we need to make it official.”

He opens the box, and inside is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. A brilliant, round diamond sits on a delicate platinum band encrusted with tiny diamonds that create a sparkling path to the heart of the ring. My breath catches, and my pulse gallops erratically in my chest as I imagine it on my finger—a symbol of something enduring, something binding, something real. But what we have is not real. Is it? Or am I just being swept up in this moment, in the illusion of forever?

“Mateo,” I say, my voice catching in my throat, a lump forming that threatens to break free.

“ Hermosa , answer me with your heart, not with your intellect,” he murmurs, his tone so sure, it feels like a caress against my skin. His words slip past my defenses, reaching something vulnerable and hidden inside me, stirring feelings I’d kept carefully guarded all these years.

His eyes are so blue, so full of emotion, so revealing that for a moment, my doubt wavers. But I can’t afford to let my guard down. I open my mouth, about to ask him to stand, when a movement by the back door catches my eye. I glance up just in time to see my father standing there, framed in the doorway, a scowl etched deep across his face, his gaze as sharp and unyielding as steel.

I look back at Mateo, who remains kneeling and blissfully unaware of my father’s presence. With my eyes filled with tears, and my heart swelling with an unfamiliar yet thrilling emotion, I extend my trembling hand toward him and whisper the one word that changes everything: “Yes.”

He slips the ring onto my finger, and in an instant, he lifts me off the floor and into his arms, spinning me around until the world blurs, and his laughter fills the room—and my heart. But then, the sharp sound of my father clearing his throat cuts through the air, pulling us both back to reality with a jolt.

He gently sets me down, his hand protectively wrapping around my waist, before he turns to address my father. "Stan, I'm glad you're here to witness this special moment with us."

My father’s gaze sharpens, his eyes narrowing as suspicion fills his voice. "I thought you two were already engaged."

Mateo meets his gaze with a calm, unwavering smile. "I had to get the ring resized, so we're just making it official. Again," he says, his voice confident. "Show him, hermosa . Show your father your engagement ring."

I step closer to my father and extend my hand, letting him take a good look at the ring. He grasps my hand, tilting it from side to side as the diamond catches the light, then lifts it nearer to his face to inspect the details. His gaze narrows as he examines the stone, scrutinizing every facet with a furrowed brow.

"Do you know a lot about rings, Stan?" Mateo asks with a smile that doesn't convey the least bit of amusement.

"What is there to know?" Dad asks, almost sneering. "You've seen one ring; you've seen them all. For all I know, you picked it up from a fifty-cent gumball machine at the local novelty shop."

Mateo’s smile doesn’t waver. "You probably haven't heard, but those fifty-cent gumball machines? They're a dollar now. But let me assure you, those novelty shops don't carry anything as exquisite as this." His gaze shifts to me, and I catch the warmth in his eyes. "I wanted something as rare and extraordinary as she is."

My father scoffs, but he refrains from contradicting Mateo's sentiment about his bride-to-be. Instead, he turns on his heel and walks out the door, leaving Mateo and me standing alone once more.

I dart to the window, heart pounding, and watch as my father retreats to the guesthouse. Once he disappears inside, I whirl around to face Mateo.

"Have you lost your mind?!" My voice shakes, my emotions a tangled knot of disbelief, shock, anger, and something unexpected—something terrifyingly close to happiness.

Mateo steps closer, his calmness infuriating. “Too late,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that wraps around me. His lips curve into a confident smile that both soothes and enrages me. “You already said yes."

"You ambushed me!" I exclaim, my voice trembling with a mix of shock and—dare I say it—awe. "What were you thinking, showing up here with a ring? An engagement ring." My gaze flickers to it—a real, breathtakingly beautiful, impossibly perfect engagement ring.

"Do you like it?" he asks, that disarming smile playing on his lips—the one that melts all my defenses, every single time.

I draw in a shaky breath, my emotions a whirlwind beyond control. "I—I love it," I stammer, the words catching in my throat. When my eyes meet his, my heart races, and my chest tightens. I can't look away—from the way his gaze holds mine with unwavering certainty.

“We can't do this, Mateo,” I murmur, my voice cracking at the edges. “We can’t do this.”

His silence is deafening. More unsettling than any words could be. I can see it in his eyes, he's measuring his next words carefully before replying.

"Of course we can," he smiles, reaching for my hand and lifting it to his lips, gently kissing it, his eyes never leaving mine. "We can do whatever we want."

"And what is it that you want?" I ask, my breath caught in my chest as I wait, torn between wanting to hear his response and dreading it.

"I want you, hermosa ."

I believe him.