Page 207 of Love Arranged
“Please tell me those are new shoes,” I say after he kisses me.
He laughs. “That’s the first thing you have to say to me?”
“Do you want me to compliment your outfit instead?”
He checks me out again, as if one pass wasn’t enough to get the full experience. “I’d much rather focus on yours.”
I kiss him again. “Thank you for the dress.”
He gives me a spin, and I stumble thanks to my stilettos.
“Shall we?” He offers me his arm, and I lock elbows with his.
“What happened to having the party at your house?” I ask as he leads me through the gate.
“I had a different idea.”
“Honestly Iwasa bit hesitant about asking everyone to remove their shoes at the door, so I suppose this is better.”
He hits me with another smile that makes him look way younger. Less…bothered, even. “I’m going to ask you to close your eyes.”
“Um…”
“Trust me.”
Reluctantly, I shut my eyes and allow Lorenzo to lead me through the grass. The ground beneath my heels changes from grass to pebbles, and if it weren’t for his arm gripping mine, I’d trip.
“Almost there.”
The soft sound of water rushing makes my heart stutter. I haven’t visited the fountain since the last time Lorenzo was here, so I have no idea why he?—
“You can open them now.”
I want to, but I’m scared of what I might see. Lorenzo doesn’t push me, so I wait for what feels like a whole minute before I open my eyes.
My father’s garden instantly brings me to tears. Gone are the dreary, half-dead hedges and long-abandoned flower beds, and in its place are flowers of all types. Healthy hedges surround us on all sides, and the old, weathered bench has been replaced with a new one. A white trellis hangs above, where healthy vines with tiny flowers are woven between the wood slates, providing some shade from the sun above.
Everything about the space is perfect, and it fills me with such immense joy to see my father’s garden thriving once more. It’s everything I could’ve dreamed of, and it reminds me so much of how it used to look back when my father took care of it.
Lorenzo shuffles us over to the bench with a golden plaquescrewed to the seat. The metal is engraved with my dad’s favorite saying: Un Muñoz nunca se rinde.
He wipes a water spot off the plaque. “Maybe one day, we can update the phrase.”
“What do you mean?”
“We want our kids to relate to their grandpa’s most important lesson too, right?”
My stomach flips. “A bit presumptuous of you to think these hypothetical children would take your last name.”
He grins. “It doesn’t matter if they share yours or mine, so long as the kids are ours.”
I sniffle, fighting against the tears building in my eyes. “How did you pull this off?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “An unhealthy amount of caffeine, working odd hours based on your schedule, and Manny.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “What did you offer him?”
He makes a face but is quick to smooth it out. “A weekend with my GNX.”
