Crashing into Love by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Seventeen

Conrad

“So why did you choose interior design?” I ask as I cut into my steak.

Callie looks at me, her eyes bright and glittering in the light of the chandelier. The jewels on her dress catch the light and make her whole body sparkle like a gift just begging me to unwrap. Hot rage boils inside me when I think about how self-conscious she was when we first came into the restaurant.

She should never have to feel like that, never even have to dream of feeling like that.

But then I told her the truth about my virginity, and I could tell she was struggling to believe me. If our connection didn’t go past reason, if our connection didn’t thunder into us and settle deeply, settle hotly, I know she’d doubt me.

Yet she can’t because she knows I’d never lie to her.

Now she bites her lip, as she picks at her food. A surge of possession washes over me when she clasps onto her lip like that, making me think of the way she’ll look when I’m plunged inside of her for the first time – the first time for us both.

“My dad used to talk about it when I was a kid,” she murmurs, struggling valiantly not to let sadness quake in her voice.

She chews on her food, as though delaying, and then washes it down with some juice. Even the act of her eating fills me with hope and a scorching sense of belonging for the future. She’s fueling her body for what we’re going to do together, the family we’re going to make.

She’s keeping herself strong and wide-hipped and curvy and all the things that make her so damn beautiful.

Goddamn, it’s torture not being able to grab onto her right now, with all these civilized people around. I want to let out the beast inside of me.

“He wanted to go to college, but life got in the way. He’d take me all around the city, to the most beautiful buildings, pointing out how magnificently they were decorated. It was funny. He was sort of embarrassed by it. Maybe he didn’t think it was very manly. I don’t know. But I wasn’t. I loved it, and then I was hooked.”

“Both our chosen careers come from our parents then,” I say, nodding.

Her face lights up. She doesn’t have any idea how gorgeous she is. All I want to do is flip the table and stampede through the restaurant, roaring at any bastard who dared to look sideways at her when we entered.

“Yes, yes, exactly,” she murmurs.

After a mouthful of steak, I ask, “So where do you want to take it?”

A jolt moves through her.

“What is it?” I lean forward. “Is something wrong?”

She giggles, shaking her head. “No, nothing like that. It’s just it’s so crazy we’re even having this discussion. A few days ago I rarely let myself think about my dreams. I was too consumed with, you know, the business of living, of the day-by-day ongoings.”

“Give it some thought,” I tell her seriously. “You never have to live like that anymore, Callie. You’re mine now. That means I’m going to take care of you.”

She blinks, tears threatening to glisten in her eyes, but then she visibly pushes them away. “That means so much to me, Conrad. Honestly. I haven’t had somebody looking out for me for a little while. I mean, of course, I have Mom, but…”

“She seems to be doing a lot better,” I say.

Callie laughs in a strange way, low and tangled. “Yeah, yeah, she is.”

“What?”

“She’s done this before. She’ll come out of her shell for a while, sometimes a day. Heck, sometimes a minute. Sometimes it’s even a week. But then she’ll always withdraw back into herself.”

“But now she can get counseling, the best money can buy.”

Callie takes a bite of her burger and then dabs at the corner of her mouth with her napkin. It’s so damn adorable, the look that comes across her face – half embarrassment and half sassiness and some pleasure thrown into the mix to make her sparkle.

“Why do I feel like you want to ask me something, eh?” I smirk. “And don’t even think about lying. You’re too easy to read, now that I’ve broken through whatever barrier was between us. At least for me. And only me.”

“Okay.” She grips the edge of the table, as though she’s struggling with getting the question out. “But I don’t want to be rude.”

I look closely at her. “Ah, I get it. You want to know why I’ve got so much money.”

She giggles, shaking her head. “I don’t know why I’m shaking my head. The answer’s yes, yes I want to know. But you don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s no mystery,” I tell her. “I’ve worked as one of the best surgeons in the city for two decades. In my early twenties, I started buying real estate, and now I own close to thirty properties all over the city, all self-sufficient through a management company. I barely have to acknowledge they exist, except to check in from time to time.

“And I’ve saved,” I go on. “I’ve saved a lot. My old man sometimes jokes I’m scared to spend my money. But that’s not it at all. I think I was waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you,” I say passionately. “I always knew – hoped – that I’d find the woman who’d make me feel, who’d ignite something inside of me. Now that I have, I’m ready to spend a little, to treat you how you deserve to be treated. And that extends to your mother. Whenever you’re ready, you can talk to her about therapy.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. “I guess I’ve been sort of nervous about it. About asking her. Just in case it sets her back.”

“I understand,” I tell her. “You have to do it in your own time. But you still owe me an answer.”

“Huh?”

I smirk. “Where do you want to take your interior design dreams?”

“Oh.”

A glorious smile spreads across her face, making me think about our radiant future, about little footsteps running through our house, about laughter heard through the walls, about warm meals and hope and happiness.

And that causes my mind to spiral into how we’re going to get all of that – into grabbing onto her thick hips and dragging her into my lap. Then sliding my hands up her thighs, squeezing onto one as I push her panties aside and rub my fingers up and down her pussy, over her slit and clit.

Fuck.

I need to focus on my woman, on our date, before I let the carnal pieces of me tear through my civility like shrapnel.

“I’ve always had this dream. It’s silly really.”

“Why’s it silly?” I snap, my voice grim. “I don’t like it when you devalue yourself, Callie, when you make light of your dreams and hopes. You don’t have to do that, not anymore, not with me. You can do any fucking thing you want, anything. I’ll always support you. Part of you being mine means being with you as you make your mark on the world.

She whimpers, nodding. “I know, I know. It’s just… I’ve never been able to properly think about it before.”

She pauses for a moment, both of us taking bites of our food, as the soft jazz laces the air and a waiter passes us by.

“I’ve always wanted to offer an interior design service to underprivileged families and businesses. I had this idea of going into the poorer neighborhoods and redesigning their houses for free, their shops, their salons, whatever. I’d provide all the materials. They wouldn’t have to pay a penny.”

“That sounds incredible.”

My heart warms, as the true selflessness of my woman shines through.

Of course, she’d want to do something like this, because my woman is incapable of thinking only of herself.

“So what’s the problem?” I ask.

“Well, before I met you, I had no way of making that a reality. I needed to earn money – not give it away.”

I nod. “But you’ve got my support now. First, we need to get you back in college. And then, once you graduate, you can start your charity. I support you completely.”

She reaches across the table, her hand passing the vase and the rose, and curls around mine. “Thank you, Conrad. That means so much to me.”

I rub my thumb over her knuckles, feeling how warm she is, how full of life.

“Don’t worry,” I tell her. “You’re going to pay me back. Do you think you can fit a couple of pregnancies in between your charity work, eh?”

She squeezes my hand even harder, letting out a breath. “Just a couple?”

I laugh, an airy and bright sound, the sort I haven’t felt tremble in my chest since I was a little kid, since before my mother’s botched surgery and dad’s depression. “How many are you thinking, angel?”

“Maybe around four, or maybe even five. Or is that too many?

“That sounds perfect,” I growl. “I can’t wait to put them inside of you. I can’t wait to start our future together.”

A look comes into her eyes and is gone before I can read it. A flash of nerves?

“Is this too crazy, Conrad, sitting here talking about how many children we’re going to have when we only met a few days ago?”

“I don’t give a damn if it’s crazy,” I tell her firmly. “It feels right. It is right. You crashed that car into mine for a reason, and not just because my perfect angel wasn’t paying attention.”

She giggles when I tease her. “I know, I know. I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“It’s something to tell the grandkids about.” I grin. “I’ve always wanted to use that phrase. But I never would have, not with anyone except for you. Fuck. I need you, Callie. I need you bad.”

A gorgeous vivid blush blooms across her cheeks and down her neck, disappearing behind the gold edging of her dress, making me think of her curvy and luscious breasts turning the same color.

“I was so nervous about it before,” she murmurs. “About disappointing you. But now, I don’t know, it’s sort of like… we’re in this together, aren’t we?”

She’s talking about my virginity, and I nod. “Yes, Callie, we are. But even if I’d been with a hundred people before you, a thousand – which I would rather die than do, because you’re the only woman for me, forever – but even if I had, you could never disappoint me.”

“Still.” Her smile shimmers widely, an answering note whelming inside of me. “It makes me feel a tiny bit more ready.”

“Ready, as in tonight, that sort of ready?” I snarl, my heartbeat slamming aggressively against my chest, a drumming that threatens to erupt. “Is that what you’re talking about, Callie?”

She meets my eye, fear shivering, emerging, retreating, as she fights an inner battle only I can see. “Yes, I want to… but please don’t be—”

“Don’t you fucking dare say disappointed,” I interrupt gruffly. “I’ve already told you that you could never do that.”

I let go of her hand and cut into my steak, moving quickly.

She giggles. “What the heck are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” I reply, a teasing note in my voice. “Wolfing this down as quickly as I can so I can get you home.”

She laughs again, the most beautiful sound, the most welcome sound, filling me with an emotion I never dared to hope I’d feel.

But it’s here. She’s here.

And I’m never letting her go.