Free Love Turns With Twisted Fates 2 by Caleigh Hernandez Page B

disguise my irritation.
    "Ha ha...what's got your panties all twisted,
Bizzy?" 
    Bitch Izzy? Really? That's what he's going with right now?
    Rather than open my mouth to foot-in-mouth disease, I turn
to leave.
    "Izabella," calls out Diego. "You're
forgetting something."
    I whip around to give him a mouthful to discover him holding
out the box I just brought him. My eyes go wide. "What?" incredulity
lacing my voice.
    "Open it," he demands. Because I feel like a bit
of an ass getting all huffy with him, I hesitate. I suppose his patience is my
reward for our early years. Shaking my head, I lift the lid on the small box.
    "Wha—" I gasp. I drop the box and leap onto the
most amazing husband ever. He stumbles with my abrupt motion.
    "I take it this should fix our pouting situation?"
he inquires.
    I'm planting kisses all over his face. I can't help it. He
thinks of everything, every time. I don't know why I thought today would have
gone differently. So, yeah, I'm feeling like an ass right now, but I think the
barrage of kisses I'm covering his face with is a good start to making it up. I
climb down my Adonis' body.
    Inside the small white box is a rhinestone studded red
t-shirt custom designed to look like his jersey with a shallow V from shoulder
to shoulder in black rhinestones and the team’s logo on the left breast in red
and clear crystals. Picking the shirt up from the box on the floor, I see where
there would be sponsors listed on the sleeves, on mine there’s a rose with a
halo framed in a black crest of crystals on one, on the other, . I turn to see
that the back is sporting more of the rhinestone work from on the front.
There's his number twenty-four in clear rhinestones, but it's the name across
the top that gets me. My eyes fill with tears as I re-read what he's had
written for my name in black crystals: His.
    " Mi bella preciosa," he soothes, " no
llores ." Don't cry he tells me.
    "I'm over these fucking hormones. There was a time you
could surprise me and I'd be just that...surprised, not this fucking sobbing
mess."
    Diego laughs at me. "Izzy, you're over them? You've got
about thirty-six more weeks. Get used to them, babe.” He swipes an errant tear
from my cheek. “So, I did good?"
    "You know you did, but when did you find the time for
this?" I ask, holding up the beautiful one-of-a-kind shirt.
    There's a gleam of guilt in his eye. "Well," he
starts sheepishly, "the week after I signed the deal with London United, I
found this company in Florida that makes them. I asked them if they did custom
work and we collaborated on what you're holding in your hand."
    "I love it," reaching up to hug him again.
"Okay," I give him a peck on the cheek, "time to get dressed.
Gotta go, gotta go," I taunt, turning to leave.
    "You fucking tease," he scolds, charging towards
me with a couple of strides, scooping me up and jogging us the rest of the
distance to our bed. Plopping me on my back, he nestles up to my side pressing
his boxer brief clad body into me.
    When I finish my giggling and open my eyes in Diego's
direction, I am mesmerized by the most joy, love and lust filled eyes ever.
"You know I love you, right?"
    "I do," I coo. "But how much do you love
me?"
    "So much, so much." He presses his lips to mine.
He's not in a hurry. He trails whisper soft kisses across my lips, catching my
bottom lip between his; he sucks lightly and swipes his tongue across the span
of my pout. His kiss, this kiss, it isn't about lust and desire. He's pouring
his heart out to me and taking every beat of mine. When my lips fall open on a
sigh, Diego takes advantage and languidly twists and twirls his tongue around
mine. I hum my appreciation incapable of anything else because I don't want to
interrupt his kiss.
    By the time Diego is finished with his proclamation of love,
I'm out of breath and glistening with a thin layer of sweat. As frustrating as
it is, we won't be having sex before his game. We did that on Valentine's Day
the first year we