Page 126 of Miami Ice

Her thoughts ring through my head as I push my carts toward the Christmas trees. I can’t say I love him. I mean, that’scrazy. We just had negotiations in fake dating and went straight to liking each other. I have feelings for him—deep feelings—and I know I’m falling for him. Just yesterday he gave me a bunch of reasons to love him, from the way he didn’t care about all my family drama to the way he supported me, and then when I watched him shower Lucy and Stella with all that love?

I fell a bit more for him.

I stop in front of the selection of artificial trees. I begin to study them, and my heart is flittering around as I think of Beckham. I know I’m falling hard and fast and most people would say it isn’t possible this quickly. Or that if I do have these feelings, they can’t be real. Insta-love can only exist in the realm of books and BookTok, as Beckham would say.

But I know my feelings are real.

And as I look at Christmas trees, determined to find one perfect for him, I decide I’m not going to follow so-called wisdom when it comes to falling in love.

I’m going to follow my heart.

And I know it’s leading me straight to being madly in love with Beckham Bailey.

* * *

I stop and look around the den of Beckham’s Miami Beach home, which has, as promised, been vacated by Sofia and Aaron and the girls, with only the Thanksgiving wreath left as evidence they were here just a few hours ago.

Now? It looks like a Christmas bomb went off inside of it.

It’s going to be a red, black, and amber Christmas for my favorite grump. Chloe and I grabbed some major finds at Home Joy this morning, and she woke up enough that she was agreeable to head to Homes Mart and Target for more shopping.I rewarded her fortitude with a big Cuban breakfast—and I plowed through scrambled eggs, ham croquetas, tortillas, and bacon. I’m starting to come off my Christmas shopping high, and now I’m getting tired.

I look around the room, which is filled with Christmas decor and shopping bags. I’ve kept every receipt, of course, in case Beckham doesn’t like anything or thinks I’ve spent too much. Once he was awake and texting me, I gave him updates on spending until he finally told me to stop sending them—he wanted me to have fun and spend whatever I wanted.

I grin. I adore my grump so much.

Now adding Christmas to his temporary home is in progress. I have placed red Stewart plaid pillows on the brown leather sofa and the easy chairs, and I’ve added cozy throws in red and pine green. I have some gingerbread-scented candles burning on the coffee table in crystal candleholders. I have greenery up on the mantle, and I’ve affixed some amber glass ornaments and run some tartan ribbon through it. I got some black candlestick holders, and put ivory tapers in them for a clean, masculine look.

I’ll need some help with the tree, as I went for a ten-foot-tall Vermont white spruce, and it’s a two-person job to assemble it. It’s going to be stunning when I get all the amber ornaments on it. Of course, I know it would look better with white lights, but I’m going with multicolored to bring a smile to my loveable grump’s face.

Minnie comes up to me and rubs around my legs, and I sit down among the piles of decor purchases on the floor so I can pet her. To my surprise, she climbs right into my lap.

“Hi, Minnie Pinny.” She circles a few times before finding the perfect spot. Now, I did break my tartan rule and get Minnie some festive cat toys. Like a wand toy with a Santa attached at the end. “Your daddy might be grumpy about it, but he’ll get over it when he sees you playing with it,” I tell her.

Cha-ching!

I grin as another Etsy sale is recorded. I had set up my store with coupons for Black Friday, and I’ve been selling like crazy today. I’m going to have to paint jars for days on end to replenish all my stock! I hit a perfect storm of Becca sharing my jars, Beckham linking me on his Connectivity page—which resulted in me getting hundreds of new followers overnight—and Black Friday.

I hear the sound of a car coming up the drive, and I know Beckham has returned home. Minnie pops off my lap and rushes toward the back door, her tail straight up in the air, knowing her dad is about to enter the house.

I rise, eager to greet him and show him my work in progress. I get up and head to the kitchen, and Beckham walks through the door, wearing a gray Miami Manatees T-shirt and a backward black baseball cap on his head.

What is it about that backward baseball cap that is so hot?

Because it is.

“Cupcake,” Beckham says, breaking out into a huge smile, “you look s’cute.”

“S’cute? Was saying ‘so cute’ too much? We had to abbreviate?” I tease.

Beckham picks up Minnie and nuzzles her to his broad chest, and all the feelings take flight in me again as I watch him with his cat. He puts a container of food down on the kitchen island and moves so he’s in front of me. He leans in closer, tugging on my hat and pulling it down further on my head. “Yes. You’re s’cute today in this gingerbread bucket hat.”

Then his lips drop to mine for a quick kiss.

Mmm.

He steps back from me. “Now let me see what you’ve been up to while I’ve been at practice.”

Beckham is about step into the living room, but I stop him by putting a hand on his chest.

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