Chapter 16 #2
She doesn’t wait for an answer. Just crosses the porch and lowers herself onto the step beside me, fitting herself against my side like she belongs there. Like she’s always belonged there. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and she melts into me with a sigh.
“Your mom looked happy when she came back inside,” Olivia says.
“We talked.”
“Good talk or bad talk?”
“Both. Maybe.” I press my lips to the top of her head, breathing in her scent. “Complicated talk.”
“Those are usually the important ones.” She tilts her face up to look at me. “Want to tell me about it?”
I should. I will. But not right now, when the night is still soft with magic and her ring is catching the light from the Christmas display overhead. Right now, I just want to hold her and let the quiet settle around us like fresh snow.
“Later,” I murmur, tucking her closer. “Just sit with me.”
She settles more firmly against me, her head resting on my shoulder, and we sit there in the cold watching the lights blink their patterns across the yard.
The sound of celebration drifts through the windows behind us—our parents’ laughter, the clink of glasses, someone putting on another Christmas song—but out here it’s just us.
Just me and the woman I’ve loved for six years.
The woman who’s finally, actually mine.
My hand finds hers, thumb brushing over the ring on her finger, and something settles in my chest. Something that feels like peace. Like coming home.
“I love you,” I say quietly, the words almost lost in the space between us.
Olivia goes very still. Then she lifts her head, those hazel eyes searching my face in the dim light. “Say it again.”
“I love you, Olivia.” This time the words come easier, fuller. “I’ve loved you for years. And I’m done pretending otherwise.”
Her smile is slow and devastating, bright enough to rival every Christmas light in Silverbell Hollow.
She kisses me soft and deep, tasting like champagne and promise.
When I try to deepen the kiss, she pulls away, laughing against my mouth.
Her breath is warm against the cold air, and before I can process what’s happening, she flicks me on the forehead.
“Ow.” I rub the spot, more out of surprise than actual pain. “What was that for?”
“Your family is inside,” she says, her hazel eyes dancing with amusement. “And mine.”
I blink at her innocently, though we both know exactly what I was trying to do. “It’s just a kiss.”
“It’s never just a kiss with you,” she counters, and the way she says it, knowing and teasing, makes me
My hand slides to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair as I pull her back to me. “I can’t even kiss my fiancée now?” The word feels good on my tongue. Fiancée. Mine.
I capture her mouth again before she can answer, and this time I don’t hold back. My lips move against hers with deliberate intent, coaxing her mouth open. When she gasps, I take advantage, my tongue sliding against hers in a slow, thorough sweep that makes her melt against me.
I tilt her face up, deepening the kiss until she’s gripping my sweater for balance.
My other hand finds her waist, pulling her flush against me, and when she makes that small sound in the back of her throat, pure want shoots through my veins.
I kiss her like I’ve been starving for it, like years of restraint are burning away with every stroke of my tongue against hers.
Her fingers curl into the fabric at my chest, and I feel her body arch into mine despite the cold.
“Alexander,” she breathes against my mouth, but it doesn’t sound like a protest.
I trail my lips along her jaw, down to that spot just below her ear that makes her shiver. “You’re right,” I murmur against her skin. “It’s never just a kiss.”
She laughs, but it’s breathless, shaky. Her hands push weakly at my chest. “Stop.”
“Let me try again,” I say, working my way back up to her mouth, pressing kisses to her temple, her cheek, the corner of her lips.
“No,” she says, but she’s laughing harder now, her body shaking with it. “I’m not letting you do anything to me out in this cold.”
I kiss her nose, then that sweet spot just below her ear again, and she squeals, batting at me with both hands. “Alexander, I’m serious! Our families are inside.”
We’re grappling now, her trying to hold me off while I pull her closer, both of us laughing like idiots in the snow. Christmas lights blink around us, and I haven’t felt this light, this happy, in years.
Maybe ever.
Finally, I relent, pulling her into my arms properly. She fits there perfectly, her head tucked under my chin, her body warm against mine. We both settle, the playfulness fading into something quieter, deeper.
“How did you like my proposal?” I ask after a moment, genuinely curious. I planned it for weeks, second-guessed every detail.
“It was very pretty,” she says softly.
“And the ring?” My thumb finds it on her finger, the precious stones cold against my skin. “Do you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you like...”
“Alexander.” She pulls back to look at me, and her eyes are bright with unshed tears. Happy tears, I realize. “I loved it. Every single part of it. But more than any of that, I love you.”
The world stops.
Everything, the cold, the lights, the music from inside, fades to nothing. All I can hear is my own heartbeat thundering in my ears, all I can see is her face looking up at mine with such open, devastating honesty.
My mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. Nothing comes out.
I’ve negotiated billion-dollar deals. I’ve stood in boardrooms full of sharks and come out on top. I’ve built an empire with nothing but determination and strategy. And I have absolutely no idea what to say.
Her smile turns wicked. “Did I leave you speechless?” Then she kisses me, sweet and soft, and the tightness in my chest loosens, replaced by something warmer. Something that feels dangerously close to hope.
When she pulls back, her voice is rough with emotion.
“I wasn’t going to say it. I don’t want to be the girl who falls after a couple of weeks.
But I’ve known you for so long, and the more time we spend together makes me realize that you’ve been looking after me in so many small ways I never paid attention to. How could I not fall in love with you?”
“Do you mean it?” The words come out hoarse, desperate. I need to hear it again. Need to be sure.
She kisses me. And again. And again.
And this time, when her lips meet mine, something in me snaps.
My arms wrap around her, and I haul her into my lap on the porch steps. One hand tangles in her hair, the other splays across her lower back, pressing her against me until there’s no space left between us.
I kiss her like I’m drowning and she’s air.
My tongue sweeps into her mouth, and she gasps against my lips. I swallow the sound, deepening the kiss until she’s trembling in my arms. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, then slide up into my hair, tugging hard enough to sting.
I groan against her mouth. Her taste floods my senses, sweet and intoxicating, and I can’t get enough. Her teeth graze my bottom lip, and I see stars. My hand tightens in her hair, controlling the kiss, taking everything she’s offering and demanding more.
When I finally tear my mouth away to kiss along her jaw, down her neck, she makes a sound that’s half gasp, half moan. Her pulse races under my lips, and I bite down gently, marking her, claiming her.
“Alexander,” she breathes, and my name has never sounded like that before. Wrecked and wanting.
I work my way back up to her mouth, slower this time but no less thorough. My lips brush against hers once, twice, teasing until she whimpers and pulls me back down. This kiss is slower, deeper, a promise of everything I want to do to her the moment we’re alone.
When she finally pulls away, we’re both breathing hard, clouds of breath mingling between us. Her lips are swollen and red, her eyes dark with desire, and she looks absolutely deliciously disheveled.
“What would you have said,” she asks, “if I’d said no to the proposal?”
I grin, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I would have kept asking.” She laughs, the sound breathless and beautiful, and kisses me again. Sweeter this time, but still with an underlying heat that makes my blood burn.
Then she leans back slightly, her fingers playing with the collar of my sweater, her voice dropping to something sultry. “Do you want to get a motel room tonight?”
Every coherent thought evacuates my brain. “Yes.”
She chuckles, mischief dancing in her eyes. “I wasn’t serious.”
“I am.” I’m already standing, pulling her to her feet with me, my hands still wrapped around her waist. The need to have her alone—properly alone—is overwhelming. “Wait here.”
“Alexander...”
But I’m already moving, practically jogging to the front door. Inside, the celebration is still in full swing. Dad and Bob are comparing golf swings, my mother and Carol are looking at photo albums, and Sophie is showing off something on her phone to a group of neighbors.
I grab my wallet from the entryway table, then Olivia’s jacket and my coat from the rack.
Sophie looks up as I pass. “Where are you going?”
“Olivia and I are going out for a couple hours,” I say, already heading back to the door. “Tell your Dad we’re borrowing his car.”
“Sure,” she calls after me, her tone suggesting she knows exactly what ‘going out’ means. “But you better be back for breakfast! Mom’s making her famous cinnamon rolls!”
I’m outside before she finishes the sentence.
Olivia is standing right where I left her, arms wrapped around herself against the cold, snowflakes catching in her dark hair. The Christmas lights cast colored shadows across her face, and she’s never looked more beautiful.
I hold out her jacket. “Let’s go.”
She stares at me for a moment, then bursts out laughing. “You’re actually serious.”
“Completely.” I help her into the jacket, my fingers lingering on her shoulders, then I shrug into my own coat before pulling her against me.
My lips find hers again, and I kiss her once, hard and possessive, then pull back.
“I love you, Olivia. And I’m tired of sharing you with our families tonight. ”
Her eyes soften, that teasing glint replaced by something warmer, deeper. She reaches up, cupping my face in her cold hands. “Then what are we waiting for?”
I grab her hand, lacing our fingers together, and lead her toward Bob’s car.
The snow is falling heavier now, blanketing the world in white, and somewhere in the distance, church bells are ringing. It’s almost midnight, and I’m walking through a winter wonderland with the woman I love.
The woman who loves me back.
I glance over at her, at the ring glinting on her finger, at the smile playing at the corners of her mouth, and think that this might be the best Christmas of my life.
And it’s only just beginning.