Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“Let’s go. We have someplace to be.” He offered me his arm again.
When we reached the heart of the city, I felt so much better. It was Christmas here! Old buildings, pretty lights, shoppers, and cozy cafés warmed me up in the snowfall. We passed a cobblestone square with a giant tree that ignited my holiday spirit, and I was now a fan of Luxembourg.
I wanted to come back.
“Are we going to a restaurant?” I asked.
“Eventually,” he replied vaguely. “To be honest, the restaurant at the hotel is really good, so I was thinking we could eat there. But first—” He nodded toward a narrow alley between two buildings. “I’m going to treat my boy to the best hot chocolate he’ll ever have outside Paris.”
Oh. I loved hot chocolate. It was a favorite of mine!
“Will you be speaking French?” I asked. “Because that was seriously sexy. You were all oh, vou-vou, mon chi fair au lau bon!”
Daddy coughed a laugh and stared at me, bewildered.
“That’s what you sounded like!” I laughed too, unable to help it.
He pulled me close and chuckled. “I have no words for how delightful you are, sweetheart.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was delightful.
A couple minutes later, we arrived at a corner café that was decorated in tons of pastel colors. Ladurée—sure sounded French. Oh, it actually said Paris on the window. And some other cities.
We walked inside, and I was immediately met by a wall of sweet treats. Macarons had to be their specialty, but they had other goodies too. Jams and fudge and tea and stuff.
Daddy got us a table, and he pulled out my chair for me. The place wasn’t big, but it was popular.
As I shrugged out of my jacket, he went French on me and ordered for us, and I filed that away for tonight. Maybe he could do French dirty talk!
“What did you order?” I wondered, removing my beanie and mittens.
“Everything,” he joked. “No—a hot chocolate for you, cappuccino for me, and a selection of treats. I thought we could bring the leftovers with us to the hotel later.”
Yum.
I loved treats. Treats were the best.
“It’s like you know me.” I grinned.
He smiled and just watched me.
I grabbed my napkin—fancy linen, of course—and tucked it into my shirt.
That made his smile widen a bit.
When he looked at me that way, I wanted to blurt things out. I wanted to ask him if he was falling for me, like I was for him, and if he believed we might spend the rest of our lives together. Which would be crazy of me. I kept telling myself it was way too soon to think in those terms.
He wordlessly turned his hand on the table, palm up, and I slipped my hand in his.
He brushed his thumb over my skin.
I wanted to say something. I had to say something.
Nerves formed a tight ball in my stomach, and rhyme and reason told me to shut the fuck up. It was an intense attraction, a wild infatuation, a perfect holiday—all of which could absolutely turn into more; I just had to be patient.
He smirked faintly, as if he could read my mind.
I couldn’t fucking help it. I had to. “Daddy? Um…”
He shook his head, all calm and… The affection didn’t leave his eyes, and the tiny smirk slash smile didn’t leave his lips.
“Don’t say anything, baby,” he murmured.
But—!
He knew, didn’t he? I mean, with where we were, the air around us—people came here on dates—new city, Christmas around the corner, how we’d behaved toward each other since our very first dinner together… He had to know.
“But you feel it, don’t you?” I asked quietly, almost pleading with him.
He squeezed my hand and sat forward. “Every second of every day.”
I took a deep breath and let those words settle.
He feels it too.
“But when we exchange those words,” he went on, keeping his voice down, “I don’t ever want them to be taken back.”
I swallowed hard and managed a wobbly smile. He totally felt it—and he wanted us to be patient so we could do this right, so we could last forever.
He leaned forward a bit more and kissed my hand. “I’m not letting you go, Parker. At this point, it’s not possible. You’re mine.”
Fuck, I needed to hump his leg or something. Maybe lick his face. Sit on his lap, squeeze him tightly, and never let go.
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He smiled before shifting his gaze to something behind me. “I believe our sugar coma is here.”
I was ready!
DECEMBER 22
A YEAR LATER
A lot could happen in a year. One could definitely grow accustomed to flying first class in that time. One could also be on his fourth travel pillow because he kept forgetting them in lounges all over the world. Work environments could change—case in point, Kim, Mya, and I were now on the fourth floor in our own little office area, booyah—snickerdoodle recipes could be improved, people could move in together, and adorable boys could build up an impressive collection of stuffies because Daddy was awesome.