Crashing into Love by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Twenty-One

Conrad

“It’s taken a week to get it all sorted,” I mutter, leaning against the balcony railing and letting my gaze trail over the city.

The sun is rising, glittering down on the buildings below, and the few clouds are low. Some of them drift by so close to the high-rise I feel like I could reach out and touch them.

Callie’s mother, Janet, leans against the railing beside me. Over the past week, she’s really started to come out of her shell, going out most days to visit friends or to her painting club. She’s cut her hair and has booked her first grief therapy appointment.

Last night, Callie huddled close to me, her cheek resting against my chest. Her warmth always sinking into me when she presses herself close like that and said, “I hope it’s not temporary this time. I hope she can really be happy.”

Janet sighs and nods. “I guess you wanted to get the perfect spot.”

“Yes, it had to be there. It’s symbolic. It’s a way for her to honor what she and her dad had, what she and your husband had, ma’am.”

Janet smiles tightly, gazing over the city. “You’ll never be able to break that habit, will you, Conrad?”

I chuckle. “I don’t think so. A man ought to have manners around his lady’s mother.”

“I’m so happy you found each other.”

I squeeze down on the railing, letting my mind think back over the last week.

My private investigator called me and told me Alexis has been arrested for assault. Apparently, I’m not the only person she’s been stalking, and she attacked another surgeon in a restaurant. She has a weird medical fetish, a history of this type of behavior.

Maybe it was selfish, how I punched the air when I found out. But I couldn’t help it. I just wanted her – want her – out of my life so I can be with Callie in peace.

But this past week hasn’t been all sweet it’s been hard, swallowing the words I love you and will you marry me because the location wasn’t ready yet.

“I thought you were going to say no,” I joke. “When I asked for your blessing.”

That’s why I couldn’t tell Callie right after we had had our first time, when all the emotion in the world was combusting between us and there was an intense need to let it all out. I had to get her mother’s blessing first – respect her parents, her parent, now that one’s gone.

Janet shakes her head. “It was always going to be yes. I’ve seen the way she’s changed since you two met. It’s like watching a flower finally blossom. She seems so much happier with herself, so much more optimistic, so much less consumed with keeping us afloat. What a horrible mother I’ve been.”

“Grief, Mrs. Simpkins, grief,” I say, trying to comfort her. “You can’t blame yourself for that. I’ve seen what a toll it can take on a person.”

“Your father,” she mutters, nodding. “Callie mentioned he lives in Spain.”

“Old Patrick Cage, one hell of a man in his day. He worked as a mechanic and used to bare-knuckle box on the weekend. After my mother’s botched surgery, something changed in him. He couldn’t be in here anymore. The day I turned eighteen, he cashed out everything he had and left. I went off to college – worked my ass off with part-time jobs to keep myself going.”

I’ve been over all of this with Callie during the last few days, but I’m not sure if her mother knows all the details.

“Anyway, he changed. He left.”

“Do you resent him for it?”

I bite down, thinking. “Maybe I did when I was younger. But not anymore. I understand why he had to go.”

“I often wonder if Callie resents me,” she muses. “It was so unfair, how I withdrew into myself. It was like a waking coma, except I had to choose to be asleep. It was easier to stand on the sidelines of life, of myself, rather than live it. But in doing so I abandoned her.”

“You should tell her all of this, Mrs. Simpkins,” I murmur. “I’m sure she’d love to hear it.”

“Yes, you’re right. You see. This is why I couldn’t say no when you asked for my blessing. You’re always thinking of what’s best for my daughter.”

“And I always will,” I say, voice firm. “For the rest of our lives.”

“I don’t know what we would’ve done about Todd if you hadn’t been there.” She shakes her head. “I can’t even think about it.”

“Then don’t,” I grunt as a gut-clenching sensation hits me at the thought of my lady in danger. “Callie’s never going to be in that sort of situation again. I won’t allow it.”

She spins, turning to the floor to ceiling windows, looking into the apartment. The place already has a homier feel, with thrift-shop rugs over the floors and prints on the walls, Callie’s shoes tucked near the door in the hallway. I told my woman she could get anything she wants, but she loves to hunt in thrift shops.

“It’s weird, but it sort of gives me a thrill, when I find something I really like.”

“That’s not weird,” I said, kissing her cheek softly. “That’s you. So maybe a little weird…”

She nudged me, and right away we were kissing. We’ve been like magnets and metal ever since our first time, unable to stop ourselves from consuming each other.

I push the thoughts from my head.

“So when she wakes up, she’ll see the note?” Janet says.

“Exactly. There’s a dress for her to wear, and instructions to meet me out here. Then I’ll take her to the spot.”

“She’s going to love it,” Janet says, reaching down to the table and picking up her coffee. Blowing on the steam, she takes a short sip. “It will mean so much to her.”

“I don’t know,” I mutter. “Part of me thinks it might bring back some bad memories. Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe she’ll resent me for bringing it all back.”

“I don’t think so,” Janet says. “It’s what started all of this. It’s a good way to finish it.”

More like to seal it, this chapter, so we can begin a new one.

This isn’t the end by any means.

It’s just the beginning, our glittering future laid out before us like a never-ending beach.

“Ah, here she is,” Janet says, gesturing toward the window.

I walk over to it, narrowing my eyes past the glare of the sun, and look into the living room.

My breath catches in my throat when I lay eyes on my woman, in the flowing ice-silver dress, the silver making her look like a curvy glittering prize just for me. She’s ruffled her hair and she looks ready to be kissed, claimed, tamed.

I open the door and swagger in, smirking down at her.

“Whoah,” she says, stopping short, gesturing at my suit. “You look amazing. What’s the special occasion?”

“You look incredible, Callie,” I snarl, moving forward and placing my hand on her shoulder.

But I’m conscious of her mother just beyond the glass, able to see everything we’re doing, so with a herculean effort, I stop myself from sliding my hand over to her breasts and instead stare into her perfect eyes.

“Are you dodging my question?” she murmurs.

“Maybe.” I grin. “Do you trust me?”

“Always,” she says right away.

“Then come for a drive with me.”

I reach down and take her hand, squeezing so she can feel all the affection blaring through me, a deafening cacophony that comes straight from the fucking Stone Age. I feel like a wild beast claiming his woman, ready to fight and kill and bleed to keep her safe, to keep our family safe.

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.

She squeezes my hand back, as though she’s telling me she can feel it too.

* * *

We drive through the city.

Focusing on the road is difficult, my gaze always tempted to flit down to Callie’s thick juicy thighs, to slide over their voluptuous beauty.

Then I’ll start thinking about what would happen if I slid my hand down her thigh, right down to her panties. She’s always so ready for me, her body receptive to my every touch, gushing when I stroke or massage her throbbing enflamed clit.

I bite down, watching the lights as they change from red to green, and pull out of the intersection.

Callie gives a short breath like she’s trying to exhale all of her anxiety.

A stab of guilt hits me. This is a mistake. I wish I could turn back, get as far away from here as possible – from the place that has caused so much pain.

Can present perfection truly cure past pains? Can love cure agony?

“This is the road Dad died on,” Callie whispers.

“I know. Your mother told me.”

She flinches, glancing at me. “Why are we here?”

Her voice rises as I slow down and drive into the underground parking of an office block, a mid-level tower that rises high above the surrounding, smaller buildings. We disappear underground and I glance at my woman, unable to look at her for too long in case I lose control, even know when pain is quivering through her features.

“Trust me,” I say.

“I do, I do,” she says with a flourish of passion.

I can’t stop thinking about her saying I do in a very different context, the ring box pressing forcefully through my suit pocket against my chest like it’s trying to remind me how important this is. As if I need reminding.

Parking, I take my woman’s hand and lead her over to the elevator, swiping the card I was given last night when I finalized the paperwork.

“Real estate in this area is a real cluster fuck,” I say, a jagged shivering in my voice. A distant part of me taunts that I’m talking out of nervousness, a rare feeling for me. “It takes a while to get anything done. But luckily a floor opened up and I made an offer, a very generous offer. And now.”

Ding.

The elevator door opens onto a wide-open sun-drenched area, twinkling yellow light coming through the bright windows and showing the cityscape beyond. White pillars come down from the ceiling, supporting it, but otherwise, the office is empty.

“This is yours?” she murmurs, walking slowly into the room and turning in a circle.

I watch her for a few torturous seconds, my eyes moving over her legs and up to her face, flooded with curiosity.

“No.”

I walk over to her and grab onto her hips, squeezing possessively and pulling her right up against me. Her breath comes out in a quick frantic pulse, the same way it sometimes does when she’s on the verge of an orgasm.

Last night as we lay in bed, I jokingly called it her chipmunk squeak. She giggled sweetly, ensuring a pillow fight, but I went easy on my woman…

At least, until I bent her over and spanked her ass, stinging kisses which turned her skin a delicious shade of pink.

“It’s yours,” I tell her.

“Mine?”

“To start your charity.” My hands sink deeper and deeper into her hips, savoring every moment of contact. “I wanted to get you property here, on the site of your father’s death, because it was he who ignited your love for interior design. It’s the perfect place to…”

I trail off when she begins to sob, her eyes glittering with tears, beads of pain and grief sliding down her cheeks.

“No, no, they’re happy tears,” she says quickly, anticipating my apology. “It’s the perfect place to make him proud. It’s amazing, Conrad. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I did.” Closer, I lean down, looking straight into her eyes. “Because I love you. I love you and I’d do anything for you. I love you.” I laugh, a weight drifting away from my chest. “I love you, I love you.”

I can’t stop saying it, repeating it over and over, until her lips start to quiver again.

“I love you,” she whispers, choking back another sob. “I didn’t think you felt the same. I’ve wanted to say it for so long. But I didn’t want to risk…”

“There’s never any risk of us losing what we have, angel. Never. But I had to wait until I got you this place. I had to wait until I had this.”

I step back and lower myself to one knee, reaching into my pocket at the same time.

She starts waving her hands in front of her eyes, blinking away more tears, but her chest has stopped heaving now.

“What are you doing?” I chuckle as she waves at her eyes over and over.

“Trying not to cry.” She giggles. “You’re making me too happy, you evil man.”

“Of course I’m making you happy. I love you.”

“Stop, stop.” But she smiles as another joy-filled sob escapes her. “God, I love you too.”

“Callie Simpkins.”

Reaching into my pocket I take out the ring box, opening it to reveal a big glittering diamond. It’s a large piece, curvy and full, like my woman, set within a white-gold band that matches the shade of her dress. Everything sparkling brightly.

“Before I met you,” I say passionately, staring up into her tear-filled eyes, “I didn’t know if I’d ever feel so deeply, so fully. I didn’t know if I was going to die alone. I think I was broken, and no surgery could fix me. But you fixed me. Because you’re kind, beautiful, selfless, talented, shy, and sassy, the best combination. And just for me. Only for me.”

“Forever,” she whispers.

I cough back a surging wave of emotion, my throat constricting for a moment as the full magnitude of this moment hits me.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she yells, throwing her hands in the air. “Yes, yes, yes.”

I grab the ring and lean forward, finding the right finger and slipping it on. She sobs as I slide it up, and up until it fits snugly right where it belongs.

Climbing to my feet, I wrap my arms around her and hug her close to me, squeezing down and kissing the top of her head. Her hands snake around me and her fingernails dig into my back, through my suit jacket, gripping onto me.

“I love you so much,” she whispers, her lips hot against my neck.

I turn down and bring my mouth to hers, our breath whispering over each other. “I love you too, angel.”

We kiss as the heat surges around us both, as the lust and the love and the future flutters between us.