Chapter 11
Carissa
Miranda’s wedding is like something out of a fairytale. After the church ceremony, we head to a gorgeous outdoor venue on this fine spring day. Seasonal blooms scent the air with lilac and cherry blossom. It’s chilly, but the heated tent staves off the cold.
I pick up a glass of champagne and bring it to my lips, just as warmth radiates at my back. A familiar bourbon and spice scent teases my nose. Lowering the glass, I slowly turn.
“Hello, tesoro.” Gio looks even better than I remember in a black tuxedo, his thick salt and pepper hair combed back. Those dark eyes make my breath catch and my heartbeat quicken.
“Hello. Were you invited or are you crashing my friend’s wedding?” I drain my glass in one go, needing the liquid courage to face this gorgeous man. The man who gave me hope and broke my heart in the span of a single night.
He chuckles. The low, warm sound flows like honey across my skin.
“Miranda invited me. Does that surprise you?”
It does actually, because she never told me about it, and she’s not good at keeping secrets. Sneaky friend. I know exactly what she’s doing.
“Not really, no,” I admit, setting my champagne flute on a passing tray. As more and more people show up, the noise inside the tent grows louder.
Gio offers me his arm. “Walk with me.”
I eye him and his arm. It’s not like I’ve been avoiding him, I’ve just been… Okay, I’ve been avoiding him. I admit it.
I take his arm and we venture into the surrounding garden. It’s like a painting done all in pastels. I shiver in the chill and Gio pauses to drape his jacket over my shoulders before we resume our walk.
“You quit your job,” he states.
“Yes. I decided to enroll in college. For that accounting degree.” I glance up at him to find a soft grin spread across his lips.
“That’s good. How are you paying for everything?”
“I applied for financial aid. My plan is to move into the dorms. I really want the full college experience.” If I’m going to do this, I’m going all in. Yes, I’ll graduate up to my eyeballs in debt, but I’ll get a well-paying job and pay it off. It’ll be worth it.
“Let me pay for it,” he murmurs, his gaze sliding to mine. “For all of it.”
I glance away and shake my head. “No. I can’t take any more of your money. The amount you’ve already spent on my father, I don’t know when I can pay you back, but—”
“Never.” He stops us in the middle of a narrow bridge over a tranquil pond. “You’ll never pay me back, Carissa. I don’t want your money. Ever.”
I turn to face him. We’re nearly chest to chest. “Then what do you want?”
“You. Only you. Just as you are.” He grips my hands and brushes his lips across my knuckles.
“I will never hurt you again. You’re all I think about.
You’ve ruined me for other women. I spend each day wondering if it will be the one in which I finally see you again.
Kiss you again. Hold you in my arms and never let you go.
Forgive me, tesoro mio. I’m begging you, please. ”
It was one night of lies and one morning of making me feel disposable. Cruel intentions that he never fully acted on. A trap that went sideways as we both found in each other something rare—attraction, understanding, and a spark that could lead to so much more.
The question now is, when I picture my future, is Gio in it? Are my days filled with college classes, my afternoons with homework, and my nights with him? In his bed, on dates, maybe even a vacation here and there?
Can I take more from a man who I already owe for changing my life?
He leans forward, and as if he can hear my insecurities, he says, “Be with me because you want me, not because you feel that you owe me anything. You owe me nothing, Carissa. Nothing at all. If anything, I am in your debt. That one date with you changed my life. You gave me hope, purpose, and I want to spend the rest of my days thanking you.”
Goose bumps that have nothing to do with the cold, erupt across my skin. He owes me? Maybe we both had a profound impact on each other.
“Yes,” I murmur.
He angles back to study my expression. “Yes..?”
That single word’s so full of hope that I melt inside. I’m ready to give him a second chance, to see where this spark leads. Because I haven’t seen him in weeks, and yet the sizzle between us hasn’t faded one bit.
“I forgive you, Gio.”
He smiles as I say his name. His real name.
“Thank you. I promise, you won’t regret it.” His lips crush against mine with unconcealed desperation, desire, and need. When I open for him, his tongue sweeps into my mouth. I moan, wrapping my arms around his neck and pull him closer.
He tastes like the beginning of a glorious future.