Page 23 of When Love Changes Everything

“You have a good point," she laughs. "Aaron for sure would kill you. What else?”

I swallow, my voice turning softer. “I wonder if a kiss would ever be enough for me. Restraint… isn’t my strong suit,hermosa.”

“I’m a big girl, Mateo," she says, her eyes bright with resolve. "I’ve been warned to keep my distance too, but… here I am, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be. Is there anything else?”

“I don’t need to taste your lips to know I've fallen deeply in love with you," I say. "My heart aches for you, every second of every day.”

She holds her breath, her own voice just a whisper. “That ache… I feel it too. You're my most favorite person in the whole wide world, and I miss you so much when you’re gone.”

Her words crash over me like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from my lungs. I close the distance between us, bracing onehand against the wall just above her head, leaning in until our lips almost touch.

"Do any of these reasons give you pause?" I ask, wanting her to understand. "Because this won't be just a kiss, it’ll be everything."

"Lily will come to accept it because she loves us both," she whispers. "I love the fact that you're older. You're the most attractive man I've ever met. I know you’ll never hurt me, which means Aaron will never have to kill you." Her eyes lock on mine. "I don’t think a kiss will ever be enough for me either, and I can’t wait to taste your lips, Mateo."

With one hand still braced above her, I let the other drift to her neck, my fingers lingering on the softness of her skin. Her pulse thrums beneath my touch, drawing me closer. I lose myself in her gaze, tracing every turquoise and gold fleck in her eyes, as if memorizing a constellation made just for me.

I sweep my thumb over her lips, the sensation sending a shiver through me. When her lashes flutter closed, the world narrows to this fragile, perfect moment. I brush my lips on hers ever so lightly. A chaste kiss really. Innocent and brief. When she opens her eyes and looks at me, I’m momentarily lost in the endless blue sky I find there. Her gaze locks onto mine, unguarded and intense, and I swear it’s silently begging me for more—for everything. I kiss her again, savoring the sweetness of her lips. I taste them softly, gently at first, letting the intensity build between us until I can no longer hold back, finally being able to express everything I've kept hidden just for her. This one kissspeaks of all the things I've never said. Let me love you. Let me be the man you need. Let me be the one you can count on. I kiss her like it’s the beginning of everything. Because, to me, it is.

Chapter 9

Lisa

"I always knew you'd be a great kisser," I whisper, my voice shaky with the lingering sweetness of his lips. "But wow..."

A slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. "I told you you'd enjoy it," he murmurs, each word wrapped in an intimacy that sends a shiver racing down my spine.

"I never imagined," I admit, my breath catching as I meet his gaze, "that one kiss could shift the ground beneath me... or make my heart feel like it no longer belongs to me."

His thumb lingers, tracing a tender line along my skin, sending a cascade of longing through me. His voice, low and velvety, wraps around my senses like a caress. "Tell me it’s always belonged to me,hermosa," he murmurs, his eyes searching. "Just like mine has always belonged to you."

“Always," I murmur.

***

The first thought that crosses my mind as I wake is Mateo—and our first kiss. It lingers, etched into my heart, a mark that won’t fade. That kiss made me realize no one else could ever compare to him.

I smile, giddy with happiness, as I replay it over and over in my mind.

When we got home last night, he walked me to my room, the air thick with everything we hadn’t said yet. I didn’t invite him in, and he didn’t ask, but as he gently lifted my hand to his lips, he whispered, "Good night,hermosa. Never forget that I love you."

"I love you too," I replied, my voice certain. The words flowed so naturally, as if they’d been waiting, hidden deep in my heart, until this very moment—like they were always meant to be said.

I turn over in bed, immediately finding a comfortable spot. I know I should get up, but the thought of my father being just across the garden makes me want to burrow under the covers and hide from the world a little longer. It’s as if staying here, wrapped in warmth and quiet, can somehow keep reality at bay—just for a few precious moments more.

But my vacation is over, and I have to face reality. I have phone calls to make, appointments to set up, and sales to schedule. Fortunately, I've got support. Hiring Nichole and Jeffrey has been a blessing. Between the three of us, we coordinate everything from our homes, with most of our overhead going to the storage units where we keep unsold items temporarily. For each sale, we carefully catalog, photograph, and appraise items, managing online listings and organizing on-site events. And for whatever doesn’t sell during the estate sale itself, we offer it in bulk to resellers or local thrift stores and online vendors, clearing space and making room for the next project.

Remembering Dad’s harsh words—that my work is just “sorting through people’s trash”—still stings. But I remind myself that his words come from a place of ignorance about what I truly do. My work is about giving people peace of mind during some of life’s toughest transitions: downsizing, moving, handling a family member’s estate, guiding an elderly loved one into assisted living, or even managing the aftermath of a divorce. My work is rewarding and fulfilling.

What my father calls trash, I see as someone's treasures. Each item—a cherished piece of art, a well-worn piece of furniture that holds years of family memories, a photo frame that once held a precious moment, a beloved collection—represents a story that’s worth preserving. You can’t put a price on that, and that’s where I come in. Each piece has a story, and I’m there to listen, to understand, and to ensure every item is handled with the respect and care it deserves.

When I open my eyes, another twenty minutes have slipped by. With a deep breath, I decide it's time to face the day—and my dad.

***

An hour later, I head to the kitchen, hoping to catch Mateo before he leaves. Instead, I find the kitchen quiet, his phone sitting on the counter. A fresh pot of coffee brews, the aroma filling the air, and a neatly folded note rests beside it. I pick it up, and his familiar handwriting softens my disappointment.

Went for a run. See you soon, hermosa.

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