Page 142 of Filthy Little Regrets

I lock my phone and tug her closer. “It’s a surprise.”

She stares out of the town car’s window. “It better be a good surprise.”

Fuck, I hope she likes it. Nerves rattle around inside of me. She’s the only one with the power to unsettle me in this way. I hate that we had to leave paradise, but seeing her surprise is going to be worth it.

Elliot parks in our driveway and lets us out. I pat his shoulder and lead Cassia inside. “So, you remember your wedding dress?”

Cassia scoffs. “Do I remember a Vivian Carlisle original? Of course, I do.”

Tugging her around to face me, I hold her gaze. “You might want to check the closet.”

Her lips part, a sparkle of intrigue dancing in her irises, and her eyebrows jump to her hairline. “Wait. What do you mean?”

“Go see for yourself.”

“Mace,” she breathes my name. “You didn’t.”

“You’re wasting time,” I tell her, nudging her toward the stairs.

She hesitates for all of two seconds before running up them. I chuckle and follow her, grinning when I hear her squeal of delight as I make my way toward our bedroom.

“Oh my god. It’s the Peril line! Holy shit, I think I’m going to cry.”

“You’re talking to yourself.”

“Shut up!” she screeches. “This might be the best day of my life.”

I rest my shoulder against the threshold of the walk-in closet, watching her hands float over all the pieces, her eyes wide with wonder. “The best day?”

She shoots me a look. “You can’t be jealous of clothing.”

“Says who?”

Rolling her eyes, she walks over and wraps her arms around me. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Asshole?” I ask with a laugh, hugging her back. “How?”

“Because you got me the Peril line, and how am I ever going to compete with that gift? Everything I get you will be so lame in comparison.”

“Mmm. I think you have me beat.”

“How?”

“I have you.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, squeezing me tighter, and then she sniffs.

Is she crying?

“Those are happy tears, right?”

“The happiest,” she mutters, resting her forehead against my chest. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

My chest fills with warmth and pride. “Right backatcha, red.” I smooth my hand down her back. “Should we Netflix and chill? WatchSchitt’s Creek?”

She pulls back, swiping her cheek. “Mace,” she says like I’m dumb. “It’s on Hulu.”

CASSIA

---