Page 49 of Sebastian

“Dinner is ready. I had her set it up in the living room so we can work and eat.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, all good.”

He closes the door behind me as I slip my coat off to drape over my arm. Without hesitating, he takes it from me and tosses it on the round entry table in the middle of the massive foyer before leading me by the hand past the gigantic Christmas tree,down a different hallway to a large room with floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing his backyard Christmas village.

White Christmas lights wrap the trunks of the decades-old oak trees, and large, lit Christmas balls hang from the branches. The lights illuminate the holiday village and our Santa throne, adding to my determination to help him pull it together for Wednesday night.

Inside is just as cozy and inviting. A white-flocked Christmas tree stands in the corner of the room, with hundreds of white and silver ornaments covering every inch. A roaring fire crackles in the fireplace, casting a gentle glow and luxurious warmth in the room.

Laid out on the coffee table is a setting for two, complete with various pots and Bunsen burners underneath. It’s an unusual sight, and I can’t help but raise a curious eyebrow at him.

“What is this?” I inquire, anticipating one of his witty replies. However, instead of a clever retort, he greets me with a sheepish grin, his dimples on display.

“Just something I used to enjoy as a kid,” he confesses, releasing my hand to stand beside the table and slowly removing the lids to show the contents.

“I used to sit here, and we’d watch Christmas movies on the television over there. I figured we could do something similar.”

My heart literally aches as he shares this sweet childhood memory with me. Unable to contain my excitement, I cross the room, tug his shirt collar, and give him the biggest, most appreciative kiss. He responds with a deep, longing groan when I abruptly end it.

“I love it!”

I release him to gaze at the various pots, each bubbling with delicious, gooey goodness. Next to them are an assortment of delectable items, including bread, fresh fruits and vegetables,succulent pieces of steak, and juicy shrimp for dipping into the cheeses and chocolate.

“I haven’t had a fondue dinner in . . . I don’t even know how long. This is truly lovely.”

His chest puffs with pride, and he gestures toward the table.

“After you, milady.”

We settle at the table, the warmth from the nearby fireplace and the view of the beautifully lit holiday decorations outside adding to the enchanting atmosphere. Seb reaches for a bottle of champagne, its golden foil sparking in the soft light, and expertly pops it open, filling our glasses. Usually, I wouldn’t indulge in alcohol three nights in a row, especially with work awaiting me in the morning, but tonight, I want to savor this delightful surprise.

He raises his glass and says something in Italian. It’s the first time I’ve heard him speak it, and it’s beautiful—perfect for the intimate feel of the night. His glass clinks with mine while he translates.

“To creating new memories and sharing them with someone special. Cheers.”

My throat clogs with emotion. Old memories haunt both of us, neither wanting to truly divulge them to each other. Yet here he is, acknowledging them in his own thoughtful way and moving us past them. It is beautiful and emotional, causing me to blink rapidly against the tears filling my eyes.

“That was an amazing toast.”

I run my hand down his back while leaning in for a kiss. His lips meet mine with a gentle urgency that sends a thrill through my body. I can feel the heat of his body through his shirt as his tongue plunges into my mouth. All I can think about is pushing the food out of the way and riding him on this couch with the soft glow of the lights and the holiday music playing in the background.

“Not yet,” he mumbles against my lip, leaving me breathless and wanting more. “I have something special I want to show you, but first is dinner.”

I’m still catching my breath when my brain lights up at another surprise. He’s so spontaneous and creative that I can’t wait to see what it is.

“Oh, sounds mysterious.”

I poke him in the ribs when he captures my hand and places a skewer in it.

“Mysterious, no. Fun, yes.”

He grabs a strawberry from the plate and slips it on the end before adding a grape, then hands it to me.

“But that’s the only hint you’re getting.”

His eyes twinkle with mischief, and I can’t help but laugh as I dip my skewer into the dark chocolate and moan at how delicious it tastes.

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