My Favorite Souvenir - Page 103

After dinner, Matteo stood up from the table and reached for my hand. “Are you ready to exchange gifts?”

I was nervous, but excited to give Matteo his present. It wasn’t anything like what he was expecting.

I followed him to the room where he’d been storing my gift. “So, I finally get to see what you’ve been hiding in the spare bedroom?”

Matteo had told me my present was too big to hide in a closet. So he’d ordered me not to go into the spare room for the past couple weeks. I’d been tempted to peek, but had managed not to give in. I suspected it might have been the treadmill I’d hinted at.

Instead, what met my eyes when he opened the door was the best, most heartfelt present he could have given.

“When?” I shook my head in disbelief. “How did you manage to put this together?”

“It hasn’t been easy. I’ve been sneaking in here to assemble it whenever you had an assignment and I happened to not be working at the same time. The other day when you ran to the store to get your tea, I snuck in fifteen minutes.”

It was a Victorian dollhouse, like the one I’d always wanted as a kid. I’d told Matteo when we first met that Brady once bought me a kit, but hadn’t built it for me. I never would have imagined he remembered.

My jaw dropped. “I can’t believe this. It’s amazing.”

The dollhouse had three floors, and it was blue on the outside with pink shutters. It was basically a mansion, as far as dollhouses went. As I looked closer, I realized that this was more than your average dollhouse, and not just because of its size. This was personalized.

“The animal on the wall!”

He laughed. “It’s a stuffed raccoon, an ode to our time at Wyatt Manor.”

I shook my head. “I cannot believe all the detail you put into this.”

“Check out the tablecloth in the kitchen,” he said.

I covered my mouth. “Oh my God!”

It had pineapples on it, in honor of the sex party we’d attended in Santa Fe.

He’d turned our adventures into a home. It felt like a metaphor for my entire experience with him.

It was a feast for the eyes—miniature furniture with real linens, carpets, lighting. But where were the people?

Then my eyes found the upstairs bedroom, and there they were. The male figurine with brown hair was kneeling in front of the female—a redhead wearing southwestern-style boots. The man’s hands were extended, and there was a tiny box sitting atop them.

My heart beat faster as I realized the man was proposing.

When I turned around to look at Matteo, he was already down on one knee with a little box of his own.

My mouth went agape.

“Hazel, we haven’t known each other for two years yet, but I can’t remember a time without you. You’re my adventure partner, my best friend, my lover, and my soulmate. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

He had no idea how much his doing this tonight meant.

At a loss for words, I wiped the tears from my eyes. “I love you so much. I would rather die than live life without you at this point. I will absolutely marry you.”

I hadn’t even looked closely at the ring until now. It was a gorgeous, round solitaire diamond. He couldn’t place it on my finger fast enough, and when he did, it felt magical—like my entire experience with him since the moment we met.

Matteo lifted me up and spun me around.

When he put me down, I said, “I’m really anxious to give you your present. Be right back.”

My heart racing, I ran to our room to grab the gift bag.

I returned to him in the spare room and handed it over.

He removed the tissue paper, and his forehead crinkled. He lifted out buffalo plaid footie pajamas—a pair for him and a pair for me. His said Mr. Hooker, and mine said Mrs. Hooker.

Clearing my throat, I said, “I struggled with whether to order Mr. and Mrs. I didn’t want you to think I was being presumptuous. It was supposed to be a joke. But after tonight, it totally fits, doesn’t it? The buffalo plaid is really Christmasy, too.”

“Heck yeah! How did you know I’ve always wanted these?” He winked. “Are we supposed to change into them tonight? Because I’d be down for that. Although, they’ll be tough to get off easily when I need you naked.” He paused. “Wait. Buffalo? Buffalo plaid. Maybe Zara wasn’t referring to your rental car in Louisiana? Maybe this is where she got the buffalo from. Or I guess it was a bull…”

“That hadn’t occurred to me. I’m not sure.”

My palms were sweaty. He hadn’t seen what else was in the bag. The entire point of this was being missed.

Tags: Penelope Ward, Vi Keeland Romance
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