Page 65 of One Hotlanta Night
Michael presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, drawing out the moment until I’m ready to fall asleep on him standing up. Ibreathe in the remnants of his citrusy cologne; the scent already associated with him and with comfort. “Come, mi amor. It’s bedtime.” He releases me only to grasp my hand firmly as he leads me to the guest room.
His eyes roam appreciatively over me as he watches me change into my silk pajama set, but doesn’t make any move toward reigniting that fire we’d started earlier. I admire his restraint, that he’s heeding his grandmother’s warning not to mess around even though I’m aching to feel him inside me. Instead, he wraps his body around mine when we get in the bed, stroking my hair as I rest my head on his strong bicep. His free hand holds mine, our fingers intertwined.
Right here, right now, with him cuddling me, protecting me, keeping me warm and safe, this feels far more intimate than anything we’ve done before. Just before I drift off to sleep, I feel him bury his face in my hair.“Quiero hacerte el amor todos los dias de mi vida.**”I’ll have to ask him what that means in the morning.
**”I want to make love to you all the days of my life.”
It’s been a whirlwind few days since that trip to Charlotte. I’m sitting on the front porch of Claire’s house, waiting for her to join me for coffee so I can finally fill her in without interruptions from work or Raelynn. That girl sure does love to sleep in as long as her sugar’s good.
The air is damp but slightly cool considering it’s August in the South, so we’re taking advantage of the beautiful morning. As I sit on the brick steps, with my favorite Spice Girls coffee mug in hand, my mind keeps drifting back to that visit. The onethat ended up being way more “meet the parents” even though Michael had made it sound like no big deal.
Even though I was taken by surprise, I can’t recall the last time I felt so welcomed by strangers. It was like I stepped through the door and right into their family dynamic. Michael’s family was more than just warm and welcoming, they were genuine and heartfelt. Asking questions about me, my work, how Michael and I met (“out with friends” seems to be the default answer). Theycaredand had no hesitation bringing me into their fold. As if it wasn’t a big deal to show off Michael’s baby pictures, or talk about seeing me for Thanksgiving.
As if it was a given that I’d still be around then.
They know we’ve only been together a few weeks, and they’re talking like it’s forever with us.
I still don’t know how to take his grandpa’s “prayer.” That was definitely a new one. Having guys in previous relationships say they want to marry me and having a wise old grandfather declare it are two very different things. Claire’s probably the only person in my life that wouldn’t find this whole scenario crazy.
And I still haven’t told him that I love him.
But Michael’s family took his pronouncement all in stride, laughing at“We hope Michael and Vivian will get married soon,”and then continuing the conversation like those words hadn’t been earth-shattering.
Given what Michael told me about the brief courtships in his family, I guess theywouldn’tfind it shocking.
The women particularly seemed very keen to know me. I really enjoyed talking with his mother and hearing stories of his childhood antics. Like when he was a toddler and decided to be Superman. Apparently he took a flying leap off a chair, convinced he would soar through the air, and ended up biting right through his tongue. My lips tilt up at the thought. Yeah,I can definitely see that happening. He still exudes that level of confidence.
And his sister Isabella was so sweet and attentive. When we first started talking, I was nervous, wondering if she’d think I was good enough for her brother. I desperately wanted her to like me; it’s obvious they’re very close. But when we finally got a minute alone, imagine my surprise when she said how glad she was that Michael brought me and how good we looked together. She wants to go shopping with me and do my makeup. Someone to do girl stuff with, as she put it. I snort to myself, remembering how glamorous she looked, all pretty curves and perfect makeup. Definitely doesn’t need any help in that department; she’s naturally stunning. But the way she said it, so wistfully, made me wonder if she gets much girl time. There’s a hint of sadness in her eyes before she brightens up when she looks at someone, making them feel like they’re the only person in the room.
But Paquita? I loved meeting her, especially after everything Michael had told me. She is sweet as pie, but you can tell everyone falls into line with her. She practically chased me out with a broom when I offered to help clean up, quite adamant on doing everything herself. But she’s very tenderhearted with her grandkids. Calling Michael over to the stove to taste the sauce, him whispering something in her ear that had her giggling, and poking him in the stomach. At least Isabella is allowed to help with dessert; they make a seamless team, practically dancing around in the kitchen, rapid-fire Spanish flying back and forth.
The noise, the laughter, the chaos of having so many boisterous people in a small space is something you either love or hate. And I absolutely love it. I thrive on it.
One day, I want to have a house overflowing with kids and hospitality, just like this. And I’m even more certain I want it with Michael.
But the idea still scares the shit out of me. That’s why I’ve held back on telling him how I feel. I mean, who the hell actually says “I love you” to someone they’ve just met? That’s for Disney movies, not real life.
I thought I knew what I wanted. Then my adulthood just… fell apart. And when things didn’t turn out the way I had planned, it became harder not to be cynical and jaded. I don’t want that for my life.
I want what Michael’s family has. Laughter, love, fierce devotion. Commitment.
And most of all, I want to be looked at the way his grandfather looks at his grandmother. The way his dad looks at his mom.
The way Michael looks at me.
It’s crazy. It makes absolutely zero sense. But I can’t deny what my heart feels, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep the words from spilling out.
Standing up, I take my coffee cup inside for a refill and to see if Claire needs help with Raelynn. Maybe the little princess got up early after all.
Michael
a few days later
She’s driving me fucking crazy.
The dark red crushed velvet top Vivian’s got on tonight hugs her like a second skin. It’s low-cut, tantalizing, and beckons my hands with how easy it would be to reach inside and caress her. Part of me is tempted to slide my fingers under the fabric so I can feel her warmth, just for a second, but I won't risk anyone else seeing my woman exposed like that. The soft texture of the fabric feels amazing against my hands as I run them along her body. It’s second only to the feel of her skin, which I can never get enough of. I think this top snaps down below the tight leather miniskirt barely covering her ass, and I'm considering unsnapping it in the car on the way home so I can feel her, tease her like she’s been doing to me all night, until we’re in my bed.Ourbed, I mentally amend, although she doesn’t call it that yet. I’m aching to tell her how I feel. I’m getting tired of holding back.
If I don’t confess my love to Vivian soon, it just might kill me.
