It’s a stunning black-on-black monogrammed Louis Vuitton messenger bag. Big enough to store all the devices currently on the counter but compact and chic enough to run around town with.
That is, if the rest of my wardrobe weren’t highly curated by TJ Maxx.
“Qué bonito, Isa. Try it on so we can adjust the straps.”
It feels like I’m having an out-of-body experience.
This is… a lot.
No, too much. Has the man never heard of a gift card?
I can’t accept this.
And not because I want to pretend that I would never desire such a thing, but because, hell, that’s a graphic designer’s wet dream staring back at me.
But I refuse to let Mateo think I’m just another person who takes from him or only needs him for what he can provide.
I take my phone out of my sweats and dial his number. “Hands off the merchandise until I talk to the big guy.” I point at Beth, who drops the designer bag innocently.
“Careful, I could get used to being called ‘big guy’ by you, Isa.” Mateo’s deep voice startles me. Did the phone even ring? “Let me guess, you got my gifts?” I hear the smile in his tone.
“Oh, yeah, I got ’em, and I’m here to say thank you, but—”
He sighs deeply into the phone, overplaying it a bit if you ask me. “And let me guess—you haven’t read the second card yet?”
Shit. I had forgotten about the card after the designer bag wiped my brain clean. I take it off the counter and turn my back to my audience while I read it over.
I read it again and try my hardest to sniffle quietly.
“You still there, Isa?” Mateo asks tenderly. “Please don’t cry,tesoro.”
I chuckle lightly, quickly wiping a rogue tear before it messes up my makeup. “Tesoro? You picking up some new words without me now?”
“Yeah. Guess you can say I’ve been practicing. Got a teacher to impress.”
“Oh yeah?” I taunt as I step farther away from the kitchen. “Then surely you can tell me what it means.”
He pauses momentarily, and I think it’s because he’s trying to remember. That is, until he speaks, and his words come through like a caress. “Tesoro, it’s what you are to me.”
I suck in a stunned breath.
Tesoro meanstreasurein Spanish. But it’s also a term of endearment. One usually reserved for lovers.
“Mat—”
“We’re about to land. I’ll be home soon, Isabella. And I’ll be seeing you tonight.”
“You took my call from the plane? That’s currently still flying in the sky?” I ask, shocked.
“Isa, someway, somehow, you will come to learn that there isn’t a place on earth where you wouldn’t be able to reach me. Sky and sea included. Talk to you soon, tesoro.”
twenty-nine
Girls’ night is turningout to be a blast, but I can’t keep my thoughts off Mateo.
All I could think about when I decided to switch my outfit to the short sparkling red dress I have on was whether it had the ability to push Mateo far enough over the edge that he’d touch me tonight.
We’ve been circling each other long enough, and that letter might as well have knocked over the tiny stone left in the flimsy wall I’d erected to keep my feelings for Mateo at bay.
