Dahlia shrugs. “I know a guy.”
“What organ did you sell?”
“A nonvital one.”
I whisper in Dahlia’s ear, “You better be fucking joking.”
She doesn’t bat an eyelash. “We were born with two kidneys for a reason, Julian.”
“Dahlia.”
Her shoulders hike.
I glare at her.
She nudges me. “A light guy who worked on my show before is now part of the production crew for the tour, so I contacted him and begged for a pair.”
“Best gift ever!” Nico jumps around and waves his arms in the air.
Dahlia bats her lashes at me. “Aw. You could have been the best padrino ever, but no. I didn’t need your help.”
I press my lips against her ear and whisper, “Keep talking like that and I’ll make your ass match the wrapping paper you chose.”
Her face turns beet red, catching my mom’s attention as she snaps a photo of us.
“For the photo album!” My mom grins.
Padrino: Godfather.
Everyone continues to open their presents. Each time I pass one of mine out, Dahlia perks up, only to deflate with poorly concealed disappointment as I hand it to someone else.
It’s not until most of the gifts have been opened that she reaches under the tree and grabs a box with my name written on the tag. “Here. This one’s from me.”
“You got me something?”
Her cheeks turn pink. “Yes.”
I carefully undo the wrapping paper, taking my sweet time solely because I love Dahlia’s rare display of shyness.
“It’s not much,” she rambles when I fold the wrapping paper into a perfect recyclable square.
“Can you hurry up already? Some of us want to get to bed before Santa gets here,” Lily announces.
“Yeah!” Nico high-fives her. “What she said!”
“All right.” I laugh as I flip the lid of the box open and reach inside. “What did you get…” My voice drifts off as I pull out her gift.
I spot two main differences between the Second Best trophy Dahlia gave me as a graduation gift and this one. The first is that this trophy is far larger, and the second is that the plaque has a different inscription.
First Choice.
Dahlia peeks over at me. “Do you like it?”
I fight the tightness in my throat as I say, “I love it.”
“I know it’s probably silly, but since you kept the last one...” Her voice trails off.
“It’s perfect.” I wrap my arm around her and kiss her, earning a retching noise from Nico, a round of oohs and ahs from our mothers, a sigh from Lily, and Rafa grumbling something to himself.
She breaks the kiss first. “How long do you think it will take before they stop doing that every time we kiss?”
“They have nearly a decade to make up for, so I give it at least a few years before they settle down.”
Dahlia groans. “God help us.”
“This again?” She grabs the black eye mask from me.
I press my foot against the gas pedal and take off toward the Historic District. “I’d hate to ruin your Christmas surprise.”
Her knee shakes as she places the mask over her eyes. I carefully navigate the icy roads leading toward the Founder’s house with the truck, being mindful of the sharp turns and slick pavement.
Dahlia doesn’t speak up until the next song finishes. “I should have known you had something else planned after I was left empty-handed.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t have gotten you something?”
“I don’t know, but I wasn’t about to complain after the whole DreamStream thing. That’s worth like ten presents in one.”
I park outside the Founder’s house and turn the car off. “I already told you. The DreamStream deal was all because of you and your talent, not me.”
I doubt she will believe me until she meets with the team herself after the holiday break, but it doesn’t hurt to emphasize her success whenever her self-doubt comes creeping up again.
Dahlia waits inside the truck while I go around and open her passenger door. She shivers against me when I help her out into the chilly night.
I interlock our elbows and lead her toward the house.
She tucks her mittens into the front pockets of her coat. “Did you buy me another house?”
“Nope.”
Her teeth chatter as we walk through the gate leading to the backyard. “A private jet?”
“Do you want one?”
She laughs. “No, but I bet you’d get me one if I asked.”
I trace the tip of her reddening nose. “You’re finally starting to catch on.”
“The amount of money you have is sick.”
“So is my love for you, but I don’t hear you complaining.”
“Nope.”
I push against the small of her back. “Just a few more steps.” I lead her toward the perfect spot and let go. “Now, stay right there and don’t take your mask off.”
“Okay?” She blows hot air while I rush to flip the outdoor switch. I return to find her right where I left her.
My fingers tremble as I slide the eye mask over her head.
She gasps. “Julian.”
I tuck the eye mask into my jacket pocket. “What do you think?”
She takes a few steps toward the gazebo and pauses. “You made this?”
I slide my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. “Yup.”
My team may have helped me put it all together, but I was present for the whole process.
“It’s stunning.” She reaches out to stroke the column.
“Glad you think so.” I walk up the steps and stop in the center of the platform.
Dahlia follows while gawking at all the details. “It’s exactly like the one Gerald designed for Francesca.”
“I made a few modifications.” I trace over a wood-carved dahlia that would have been a rose if I had stuck to Gerald’s original design. Thankfully, my mom had a different idea, which added a personal touch to the piece.
Her eyes shimmer. “I love it for so many reasons, but most of all because you made it.”
I pull her against me. She melts into my embrace, our bodies molding together as we get lost in another kiss.
At some point, snow begins to fall around the gazebo, covering the ground like powdered sugar.
“A white Christmas! It’s been years since I had one!” She takes off running.
I stay under the gazebo, watching her spin in a circle while attempting to catch snowflakes with her tongue.
Nothing in the world is more beautiful than Dahlia laughing up at the sky, standing in front of the house I plan on turning into a home with her.
I let her have a few minutes of fun before I loop my arm around her waist and pull her toward the Founder’s house.
“Where are we going?”
“Home.”
“What? Why? We just got here!”
“We’re not going anywhere.” I open the back door and walk inside while dragging her behind me.
A sigh escapes us as our fingers and toes start thawing.
Dahlia pokes at my chest. “What did you mean when you said we were going home?”
I wave around the living room. “You’re standing inside it.”
She blinks.
And blinks some more.
“We’re keeping the house?”
“I never planned on selling it.” I bite down on my tongue.
“Ever?”
I shake my head.
Her gaze bounces around the room, probably mirroring her thoughts. “Why?”
“It’s been mine for years.”
“Years?”
“Yes.”