He hands me back the phone and leans in to kiss me. “I love you, Mrs. Blake,” he murmurs.
I put the phone back up to my ear, swooning so damn hard. “Hello.” My voice is breathy, and Olivia notices.
“My God, you have it bad.” She laughs. “I’m sorry for freaking out. Killian is right. This was about you two. You deserve to get married how and where you want. I love you, Giselle, and I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you.” I’m shocked she’s suddenly so okay with this.
“You’re welcome. Plus, Killian told me I can throw you guys a party when you return,” she says, triumphantly.
“Oh, well…actually, his parents are coming to New York in a few weeks and we’re just going to go to dinner.”
“Sounds fun! But I’m still throwing you a party! Enjoy your honeymoon! Bye!” She ends the call before I can argue.
* * *
After spending the day switching between the pool and the beach, Killian and I head up to our room. Although, ‘room’ doesn’t do the place we’re staying in justice. How Killian managed to pull everything together in such a short amount of time baffles me, but at the same time, it shouldn’t surprise me. Money talks. While Killian is showering, I pull out my laptop to do some work. Killian doesn’t know it yet, but when we return tomorrow night, his condo will be done. I left the key with Olivia so she could let the workers in. Working remotely isn’t as easy as being there in person, but with technology, it makes it possible.
After confirming the painters have arrived and are working, I go through my emails. I notice one from Adrianna and click on it. It’s a forwarded email from her school. Any time I pay the bill, it goes to her school email, so she forwards them to me to keep on record. It’s a receipt indicating the remaining balance on her food card. It’s enough to feed her until graduation. I click on the email and sign into her account. Why the hell is there so much money in there? Did she somehow get approved for some type of financial aid I didn’t know about? I click through the account. Everything was paid, and her denial of financial aid hasn’t changed. I click on next semester and there’s a positive balance. This doesn’t make sense. I pull up my bank account. If they took all that money from me by accident, my account must be in the negative! I do a double take when I see the amount of zeros in the balance of my checking account. Something is wrong here. Even with the sale of the house, I shouldn’t have this much money. I scroll down and find the deposit. Killian Blake. Motherfucker.
I sign in to my student loans, and sure enough everything is paid off. My credit cards. Paid. I am one hundred percent debt free.
“Killian!” I scream across the massive suite, which is more like a small mansion than a hotel room. Instead of responding, he comes out of the bathroom, a worried look on his face. For a second, as he stands there in nothing but a towel hung low around his waist with beads of water clinging to his tanned, perfect body, I forget how pissed I am at what he did behind my back. My eyes fall to the brightly colored tattoos and land on one in particular. I stand and walk toward him to get a closer look. It’s shinier than the others. Newer. How did I not notice this before?
He glances down and grins, knowing which one has gotten my attention. My fingers trace the same quote that is on the back of the heart he gave me. He had it tattooed on his body. The quote. The heart. It’s permanent. Tears burn my eyes as I stare at the words. I want to be mad over the money, but I can’t muster up the anger. My heart is just too damn full.
“When did you get this done?” I whisper.
“Right before we left for North Carolina.”
Gently, I wipe the water off it so I can get a better look at it. “It’s beautiful,” I tell him. I lean in and kiss the broken heart, the one identical to mine. His skin is chilled from the cool air. I trail kisses along the words, which are woven through his other tattoos. Killian’s hand grips the back of my head, his fingers threading roughly through my hair.
I continue peppering wet kisses across his chest and down the center of his torso. His hand stays in my hair, but he doesn’t move a muscle. My eyes meet his as I bend down and undo his towel. When he realizes what I’m about to do, his pupils dilate. Even at only half-mast, his dick is beautiful. My fingers attempt to wrap around his shaft. It’s thick and soft like velvet. I stroke it a few times and it thickens under my touch. Bringing my lips to the tip, I give it an open-mouthed kiss. He smells clean, a mixture of soap and Killian.