Page 39 of The No Falling Rule
“No, seriously, baby—you look incredible. That dress hugs you in all the right places.” His gaze drags over me slowly, like he’s a hunter and I’m his prey. “Now that I think about it, I’m jealous of this fucking dress,” he murmurs against my ear, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core.
“Stop it right now, or we’re not going to make it to the wedding,” I warn, breathless.
Diego growls low in his throat, and the sound nearly has me panting and ready for him.
“Diego,” I try to scold, but my voice comes out airy, and he smirks.
“I know how important your family is to you,” I tell him. “Let’s go to the wedding, and if you behave, I’ll let you have your way with me later.”
“Deal,” he says instantly, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the door.
I laugh, following him out of the bungalow.
I’d follow him anywhere.
And that thought alone terrifies me—because I shouldn’t feel this much for a man I’ve only known a couple of days.
I can’t help but let my mind wander as we walk around the resort. We had such a fantastic day—putting up the tree and the nativity, eatingtamales made from my family’s recipes (I still can’t believe Diego asked Carly for it), and then the cherry on top: riding horses by the beach. I don’t even have words for how magical this time with him has been.
“Where’s that pretty head of yours?” he asks, pulling me back to the present.
I smile, trying not to let him see the jumble of emotion I have for him. “Nowhere really, just enjoying the breeze.”
He lifts an eyebrow, clearly not buying my bullshit answer.
“Oh wait,” he says suddenly. “Wasn’t Carly supposed to come with us?”
I exhale, relieved for the change of subject. “Yeah, but when I got back, she’d gotten texts from her guy back home, and she wasn’t in the mood to go out.”
“Her guy?”
“It’s complicated,” I say with a chuckle. “I’m 1,000 percent sure they have a thing for each other, but they’re always at each other’s throats.” I grin, remembering the way Carly’s face lights up—and then immediately scowls—every time she sees River.
“Enemies to lovers, huh?” Diego drawls, amusement dripping from every syllable.
I frown, amused.
“What? You don’t read romance?” he says, like it's the most normal thing in the world.
“I do, but I didn’t peg you for aromancereader,” I shoot back. “Didn’t think a big-shot millionaire had time to read smut.”
Diego cackles, and I shake my head. This man’s got jokes.
We make it to the ceremony just in time. I barely get a glimpse of the beautiful decorations before Diego steers us toward the back row, trying not to draw attention since the groom is already at the altar—but a woman wearing a headset and an expression that means business intercepts us.
“Mr. Grosso, you and your plus-one have seats in the third row—next to the rest of the extended family,” she says quietly, gesturing us forward.
I duck my head, cheeks heating as several people turn to face us. The last thing I want is to take the focus away from the bride. Hopefully, she won’t be too upset about our last-minute entrance.
Diego takes the open seat beside a man who looks a lot like him—I’m assuming it's one of his brothers—and I slide into the seat next to him.
“Fernando, this is Mia—my…” Diego pauses, just for a second, before adding, “my plus-one.” There’s a hint ofpride in his voice that shouldn’t make my stomach flip, but it does.
Still, my face burns at the fact that he had tothinkabout how to introduce me. And when Fernando snorts, the embarrassment hits full force.
“What’s so funny?” Diego asks, his tone suddenly ice-cold.
I grab his hand and squeeze hard, a silent plea for him to take a breath. I don’t want to cause a scene.
