December 21

DECEMBER 21

Iwoke up with a jolt as the plane touched down, and I didn’t wanna believe it. We’d just fucking boarded in London! God, I was tired. I scrubbed at my face and cleared my throat. And no rest for the wicked—we had to go straight to where the Luxembourg expo was being held. New convention center, hundreds of businesspeople, two back-to-back seminars for Daddy, then mingling at a workshop event for industry folk.

“Ugh.”

“I know, baby.” Daddy kissed the side of my head. “On the flip side, it’s not a long day.”

Define long. It was nearing noon now, and he had his last commitment at four.

I yawned and did my best to shake it off.

Hello, Luxembourg, and all that!

* * *

Okay, so Daddy spoke French. It was one of the several languages spoken in Luxembourg. I’d also heard lots of German and Portuguese today—and what Daddy told me was Luxembourgish.

Sounded made-up to me.

The French, though, was on point.

I walked beside him from one elaborate booth to another as he showed his face to old, new, and potential clients. Suravi was never far away, always making sure Wyatt’s next move went as smoothly as possible. But I had to admit, I’d lost steam. London had been so fun, even though I hadn’t gotten the chance to sightsee, because the work itself had been right up my alley. I loved working with people, and I worked well under pressure. It was just…once I reached my limit, it was tough to keep going.

By the time Wyatt was done at a little past five o’clock, it was almost impossible for me to stifle my yawns.

To think, we had tomorrow too! Luckily, only a morning session, but still.

“Suravi, could you grab our coats, please?” Daddy asked.

“On my way, sir,” she responded. “Your car will be outside in five.”

“Oh—you know.” Daddy paused. “You take it. Head on back to the hotel and have a relaxing evening. Parker and I will walk.”

We would fucking what?

I had a better idea. We all took the car back to the hotel and had a relaxing evening. How about that?!

“Are you sure, sir?” Suravi had doubts, like any normal person would. “It’s very cold outside.”

Daddy smiled reassuringly. “We’ll be fine.”

What a load of reindeer crap.

I managed to keep my mouth shut through two chats Daddy had with clients, then while Suravi returned with our coats, and aaaall the way to the exit. We stepped outside, and it was actually snowing. And we had what, half an hour to the hotel?

My feet were tired. Luxembourg at snowy dusk. Yay.

“May I ask what you have against comfortable rides back to the hotel, Daddy?” I asked stiffly.

He chuckled under his breath and put on his leather gloves. “Not a damn thing, but I wanted to show you around one of my favorite cities on earth.”

I scrunched my nose. My breath was already misting in the air.

So far, Luxembourg hadn’t impressed, but that was probably because I hadn’t seen much of it. Just a crapload of modern buildings, busy roads, and some older structures too.

I guessed we were walking, then.

After pulling down my beanie a bit and making sure my mittens were on properly, he grabbed my hand, and we started freaking walking.

Traffic was busy, and I threw a longing glance at every cab that whooshed by.

Banking was big in Luxembourg. Possibly the car industry too, ’cause we walked past lots of dealerships. And banks.

“I suppose it’s a bad time to say I truly love having you with me,” he said. “I feel much more energized.”

I scowled up at him. “You’re stealing my energy—give it back.”

He laughed and linked my arm with his. “What I mean is, I want you to travel with me, Parker. Not for boring meetings, of course, but events like these. We do quite a few of them every year—big and small—and everyone’s very happy with what you’ve contributed. Even my uncle—we actually talked earlier, and he thinks we should bring fewer suits and more creators and engineers. Clients need to see more of the production stage.”

I chewed on my lip, confused about why this was bad. It sounded like a compliment to my ears. “Why would it be bad to say that? I’d love to travel with you.”

Silly man.

“Even when I make you walk back to the hotel?”

A breath gusted out of me, and I shrugged in a “what’re you gonna do?” way. “I guess I’m a masochist. A hungry, tired, cranky masochist.”

“Well. I can take care of two of those things,” he promised me.

We’d see.

Before long, we crossed a street and then another. The snow was falling heavier, but I didn’t hate that part. I loved snow. I just preferred not to walk around in it when I was sharing my space with honking cars and construction sites. That said, I did see light at the end of the tunnel. I glimpsed much older buildings not too far away, and if I was reading the street signs correctly, we were nearing the city center.

“Did you know Luxembourg is famous for its gorges?” he asked.

I rubbed my nose. “No, sir.”

“There’s one up ahead here.” He grabbed my hand again, and we crossed another street. I tried to see what he was seeing, but it was getting dark. There was a patch of nothingness, so that had to be it. I spotted a stone wall along the sidewalk we were aiming for—oh! Across the valley or whatever, there was a big castle up on a mountain! And a really tall bridge that looked old.

Daddy ushered me over to the wall, and I planted my hands on it and peered out. Holy crap—yeah, a gorge. It was beautiful. The sides were lined with tall trees and bushes, but the center was a part of the city. A neighborhood buried at the bottom of the gorge, with old buildings and narrow streets.

“This is cool!” I pulled out my phone to take a couple pictures.

I’d never seen anything like it.

I turned around to take a selfie with the gorge in the background, and then I grabbed Daddy’s hand. “Let’s take a photo together.”

He dipped down and kissed my cheek, and it made me smile like a dork as I took the picture. I had to look. I pinched the screen and zoomed in, and just like that, I was reenergized.

Like, what was wrong with me? I was in a beautiful city with the man I was falling in love with, and I was bitching about being tired?

We looked so good together. He had a soft smile on his face as he kissed my cheek in the picture, and my grin was as silly as it always was. His fancy coat and neatly wavy hair with silver in it against my parka, bright-green beanie, and dorky smile.

I glanced up at him, finding him watching me already.

He better be falling for me too.

Or I’d spank him.

“Let’s go. We have someplace to be.” He offered me his arm again.

* * *

When we reached the heart of the city, I felt so much better. It was Christmas here! Old buildings, pretty lights, shoppers, and cozy cafés warmed me up in the snowfall. We passed a cobblestone square with a giant tree that ignited my holiday spirit, and I was now a fan of Luxembourg.

I wanted to come back.

“Are we going to a restaurant?” I asked.

“Eventually,” he replied vaguely. “To be honest, the restaurant at the hotel is really good, so I was thinking we could eat there. But first—” He nodded toward a narrow alley between two buildings. “I’m going to treat my boy to the best hot chocolate he’ll ever have outside Paris.”

Oh. I loved hot chocolate. It was a favorite of mine!

“Will you be speaking French?” I asked. “Because that was seriously sexy. You were all oh, vou-vou, mon chi fair au lau bon!”

Daddy coughed a laugh and stared at me, bewildered.

“That’s what you sounded like!” I laughed too, unable to help it.

He pulled me close and chuckled. “I have no words for how delightful you are, sweetheart.”

He wasn’t wrong. I was delightful.

A couple minutes later, we arrived at a corner café that was decorated in tons of pastel colors. Ladurée—sure sounded French. Oh, it actually said Paris on the window. And some other cities.

We walked inside, and I was immediately met by a wall of sweet treats. Macarons had to be their specialty, but they had other goodies too. Jams and fudge and tea and stuff.

Daddy got us a table, and he pulled out my chair for me. The place wasn’t big, but it was popular.

As I shrugged out of my jacket, he went French on me and ordered for us, and I filed that away for tonight. Maybe he could do French dirty talk!

“What did you order?” I wondered, removing my beanie and mittens.

“Everything,” he joked. “No—a hot chocolate for you, cappuccino for me, and a selection of treats. I thought we could bring the leftovers with us to the hotel later.”

Yum.

I loved treats. Treats were the best.

“It’s like you know me.” I grinned.

He smiled and just watched me.

I grabbed my napkin—fancy linen, of course—and tucked it into my shirt.

That made his smile widen a bit.

When he looked at me that way, I wanted to blurt things out. I wanted to ask him if he was falling for me, like I was for him, and if he believed we might spend the rest of our lives together. Which would be crazy of me. I kept telling myself it was way too soon to think in those terms.

He wordlessly turned his hand on the table, palm up, and I slipped my hand in his.

He brushed his thumb over my skin.

I wanted to say something. I had to say something.

Nerves formed a tight ball in my stomach, and rhyme and reason told me to shut the fuck up. It was an intense attraction, a wild infatuation, a perfect holiday—all of which could absolutely turn into more; I just had to be patient.

He smirked faintly, as if he could read my mind.

I couldn’t fucking help it. I had to. “Daddy? Um…”

He shook his head, all calm and… The affection didn’t leave his eyes, and the tiny smirk slash smile didn’t leave his lips.

“Don’t say anything, baby,” he murmured.

But—!

He knew, didn’t he? I mean, with where we were, the air around us—people came here on dates—new city, Christmas around the corner, how we’d behaved toward each other since our very first dinner together… He had to know.

“But you feel it, don’t you?” I asked quietly, almost pleading with him.

He squeezed my hand and sat forward. “Every second of every day.”

I took a deep breath and let those words settle.

He feels it too.

“But when we exchange those words,” he went on, keeping his voice down, “I don’t ever want them to be taken back.”

I swallowed hard and managed a wobbly smile. He totally felt it—and he wanted us to be patient so we could do this right, so we could last forever.

He leaned forward a bit more and kissed my hand. “I’m not letting you go, Parker. At this point, it’s not possible. You’re mine.”

Fuck, I needed to hump his leg or something. Maybe lick his face. Sit on his lap, squeeze him tightly, and never let go.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He smiled before shifting his gaze to something behind me. “I believe our sugar coma is here.”

I was ready!