13. Antonio
Antonio
The Monday before Thanksgiving is cold and blustery in Houston, though I barely notice the chill in the air. I had another wonderful weekend with Ophelia, and I’m about to see her again, this time at the request of my boss.
Pulling into her driveway, my heart does a little flip when I see her standing in the open door of the garage. Her smile is brilliant, and I’m in awe that it’s all for me.
Ophelia is dressed in jeans, a red button-down shirt, and a black wool trenchcoat. She looks just as beautiful as when she’s wearing one of her designer dresses. Large tubs surround her, and I frown a little when I get out of my SUV.
“Did you move those yourself?” I ask, earning me an eye roll.
“Yes, but they’re not that heavy.”
I step into the shade of her garage. “What good are my muscles if you don’t let me carry things for you?”
Her small hands run up my biceps and over my shoulders. “Oh, you certainly put them to good use this weekend,” she flirts.
Growling, I push her farther into the garage and away from prying eyes as I pin her against the side of her pearl-white SUV. Our lips meet with a searing kiss.
“How is your bum?” I ask once I’ve had my fill of her sweet mouth.
“You mean after you defiled it Saturday night?” she asks with a quirk of her eyebrow.
My eyes go to the empty spot in her garage where I park my car when I come over, and the memories make all my blood go south. We’d played hide-and-seek like a couple kids Saturday evening, and when it was her turn to hide, she chose to run to the garage and hole up in the front seat of my car.
I’m well trained in tracking, and it took me less than three minutes to locate her. After hauling her out by the waist, I’d bent her over my classic Corvette and fucked her tight little arse.
“I didn’t hear any complaints from you,” I retort a bit smugly.
Her pretty brown eyes sparkle. “Because you made me come three times.”
“Bloody hell, woman,” I groan. “I thought you were going to break my cock.”
“Maybe I’ll try again next week,” she teases before pressing a hard kiss to my lips. “You want to come over for dinner tonight?”
“Yes,” I reply immediately. “But first let me earn it by loading these bins in my vehicle.” I take a step back, reluctantly releasing her.
“I think I’ll go with you,” she muses as I begin to pick up the heavy-duty plastic totes filled with Christmas ornaments and place them in the cargo area.
“I’d like to see Mindy again. I met her once when she was visiting with her aunt.
Of course, that was before she worked as Remi’s assistant.
Phoenix told me she’s a fantastic addition to the company. ”
“Mindy is a fine lass. Very smart, and she doesn’t take any of Remi’s shit.”
“Oh, I like her already,” Ophelia says with a smirk.
She sits up front with me on the way to the Hale office building.
Apparently Mindy is doing some decorating around the office, and Remi called his mother to see if they could use some of her old ornaments.
I’m eager to see what Ophelia thinks about Mindy because I’m fairly certain her son is in love with his assistant, though he won’t admit to it.
I hold Ophelia’s hand as I drive. “Will you go on a date with me?” I blurt, and she snaps her head to me in surprise. “I don’t mean dinner at your house, though I always enjoy your cooking. But I’d like to take you on a proper date.”
Why do I sound as nervous as a schoolboy asking out the popular girl? Ophelia and I had been together for over two months now, and I’d never felt more connected to anyone.
“I would love to go on a date with you, Antonio,” she says softly, and my insides turned to utter mush.
I’m in love with this woman.
The thought strikes me like a thunderbolt that would have brought me to my knees if I had been standing. Though I’m pretty sure, if I’d examined my feelings more closely, I would have seen this coming.
I lift her hand and kiss the back of it. She smells so lovely, soft and beckoning to my male instincts.
Ophelia is quiet for a moment before adding, “People will see us.”
She’s been wanting to come forward with our relationship, but I’ve been hesitant. I work for her son, and if he reacted negatively to me being with his mother, I would be out of a job.
“I have a little place we can go. It’s north of town, and I thought we could spend a weekend there. It’s near a small town, so I doubt we would run into anyone you know.”
“If we did see someone, I would be proud to be with you,” she says so matter-of-factly, it’s impossible not to believe her.
“I want to tell everyone,” I assure her, “but maybe we should get through Christmas first. I don’t want to upset anyone during the holidays.”
She smiles at that. “I don’t think they would be upset, but we can wait until January if you want to.”
A sigh of relief pushes from my lungs. She knows her sons better than anyone. I just hope she’s not deluding herself into thinking they would be okay with our relationship simply because she wants it to be so.
***
On the second Friday of December, I drive north until we’re outside the city.
I’d wanted to bring the Camaro, but they’re calling for possible snow, so we’re in the SUV with four-wheel-drive.
We were able to get on the road early since I asked for the afternoon off, and the sun is slowly settling to rest on the high treetops.
Exiting the highway, I wind the vehicle around the curves of the farm-to-market road just as the first few flurries begin to fall.
“I’ve always enjoyed the snow,” Ophelia sighs, her eyes bright with excitement. “Even though we don’t get much of it in Texas.”
“Being close to the coast in Ireland, we didn’t get much either,” I reply, turning right down a much smaller road until I see the gravel driveway that’s almost hidden amongst the pine trees.
“How long have you had this place?” Ophelia asks, craning her neck to see around the bend.
“I bought it years ago when I started working for Remi, before we moved to London. There’s a couple who lives on the neighboring property, and I paid them to look after it while I was gone.
” My eyes scan the evergreens lining the long drive.
“I appreciate the amenities of living in the city, but I needed somewhere closer to nature. Somewhere just for me.”
Glancing over at Ophelia, I see she’s looking at me, her eyes gone soft. “Thank you for letting me come with you.”
“I’ve never brought anyone else here,” I tell her as I round the final curve, and the house comes into view.
“Oh my god,” Ophelia gasps, leaning forward in her seat. “Is this it? I thought you said it was small.”
I chuckle. “When I bought the place, only that central part was here.” I gesture to the timber home. “I expanded it out on both sides and added the second story. I guess to me, it still has small-house energy.”
“You did all that?” she asks, turning her head and looking at me with something akin to awe.
“Well, yeah,” I say, shifting the vehicle into park. “I had a professional do the plumbing and electrical work, but I did the rest myself. My neighbor, Dennis, helped with the things that were a two-person job.”
“I love it,” she says, leaping out of the car before I can even get out and open her door for her. I grab her wool coat from the backseat and get out, my grin spreading from ear-to-ear at her enthusiasm.
Ophelia is wearing a long ivory sweater over brown leggings, and knee-high brown boots complete the outfit. She’s already on the porch when I reach her and drape the coat over her shoulders. I ruffle her hair, dislodging a few snowflakes.
“This is gorgeous,” she says, running slender fingers across the smooth porch railing.
“It’s mostly original other than a couple rotted boards I had to replace.”
She turns and throws her arms around my waist, resting her cheek on my chest. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s so peaceful and beautiful.”
“Wait till you see the balcony.”
Ophelia oohs and ahhs at everything when I show her around, especially when we step through the sliding glass door of the master bedroom upstairs. My chest swells with pride when she covers her mouth with her hand.
“Antonio,” she breathes, shaking her head from side to side as she looks around the upper balcony.
I shove my fingertips into the pockets of my jeans. “You like it?”
She merely nods, taking in the honey-colored wood.
It’s both rustic and refined with overhead beams crisscrossing the ceiling of the space and warm lights emanating from the iron light fixtures on the wall.
A curved bench sits to the right of the door, and a wooden chest is to the left.
Three lava-rock heaters provide warmth during chilly weather.
“May I?” she asks, tapping the hinged lid of the chest.
“Of course.”
Ophelia opens it and squeals. “Blankets and pillows? Does that mean we can cuddle out here later?” Her excitement is evident in the sparkle of her brown eyes.
“Absolutely. I like to drink my coffee up here in the mornings, but it’s nice at night too.”
She turns to face the view, and I walk up behind her, wrapping my arms around her soft body. She leans into me, and I rest my lips against the top of her head. The smell of jasmine and oranges mixes with the pine scent from the surrounding trees, and I’ve never felt more content.
As long as I don’t think too hard about what I want to tell Ophelia tonight.
***
“Stop looking at me like that,” I warn, heaving the ax over my head and bringing it down right in the center of the log, splitting it cleanly in two. I’d noticed a fallen mesquite tree while we were up on the balcony earlier. I’ve already cut it into logs, and now I’m splitting them.
“I can’t help it.” Ophelia says, and I turn my gaze to her.
She’s seated on the seat of the four-wheeler because she insisted on coming out and watching me.
I made sure she was properly bundled in her coat and knitted hat.
She winks at me and waggles a finger up and down my form.
“I’m loving that look on you. Very lumberjack chic. ”
I snort out a laugh and return to my task as the snow begins to fall a little harder. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me chic before.”
When I noticed the downed tree on the edge of the treeline, I kept my jeans on but changed into a worn red flannel shirt and work boots.
Ophelia is drinking hot chocolate and ogling me—not that I mind—while I work.
I can read the desire in her eyes, which makes it damn difficult to keep my hands off her long enough to get this tree taken care of before the snow starts sticking.
Once I’m done, she climbs off the four-wheeler and starts helping me load the split wood into the small wagon attached to the back of the vehicle, despite my vehement protests.
“Don’t treat me like a princess, Antonio,” she scolds. “I can carry a few pieces of wood.”
Pulling off my work gloves, I hold each of her hands and stuff them into the comically oversized gloves. “You’ll at least wear these so you don’t get a splinter. You should have been wearing gloves out here anyway.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’ve had splinters before and didn’t tragically perish.”
I swat her bum. “Don’t sass me, woman, or I won’t let you put your cold feet on me in bed tonight.”
“Brute,” she mumbles.
We finish up, and I settle Ophelia between my thighs as I drive us to the woodshed. I love having her close like this, riding with my woman as the wind blows her hair in all directions.
After unloading the wood and storing the four-wheeler, we hustle inside. Ophelia’s face is flushed from the cold, her cheeks and nose a lovely shade of pink. Snow has melted into her hair, causing it to hang limply around her face. “You are so beautiful,” I say, pulling her to me by the waist.
“And you’re incredibly hot,” she says with a flirty smile. “I think I now have a lumbersnack kink.”
I burst into laughter. “Lumbersnack?”
“I learned it from Urban Dictionary.” Her hands run up my forearms, which are bare since I rolled up my shirtsleeves while working. “I think the name is self-explanatory.”
“Yes, I think I’ve got it,” I say with a chuckle. “We need to shower before dinner. Would you like to go first? Or…” I bob my eyebrows at her, and she smiles that playful, wicked smile of hers.
“Or we could shower together and check each other for splinters.”