Page 25 of Love at First Slice
Like I belonged.
Like I was home.
12.Mark
“Love at first slice.” I chuckled and looked at the woman who had stolen my heart like she was the most beautiful thing in the world.
Because that’s what she was.
Wrapped up in my sheets, her shoulders bare for my eyes to eat up, and some of her plentiful cleavage on display was making my body recover a whole lot faster than it was used to. We were still in bed. After holding her for a couple of minutes and talking about sweet nothings, my stomach growled, and she reminded me of the leftovers her friends had sent us home with.
“Mmm, I think you’re lucky,” she said slowly, and I laughed.
“Abby, I know I’m lucky. You’re here, wearing nothing underneath that sheet and making those sexy sounds as you eat that pumpkin cheesecake. I don’t think I could get any luckier.”
“Not even if you won the lottery?” she sassed. My smile died on my face, and I turned serious.
“I think I just won something better than that, baby.” She blushed and leaned in to press her lips to mine. Her kiss tasted like pumpkin spice, vanilla, and Abby.
“Have you always liked Thanksgiving?” I asked. She opened her mouth then it shut. My girl looked at me with her head tilted,and I had a feeling she was going to say something that would knock me on my knees.
“Yeah. I have… Actually…”
“What?”
“So, you know my name?”
“Abby.”
“Well, yeah, but that’s short for something.”
“Abigail?” I guessed. It was the most logical presumption I could come up with, but she literally took me by surprise when shook her head.
“No.” She made a face. “Promise not to laugh?”
“Of course.”
“My name is Abundancia.”
“Abundancia,” I repeated slowly, my eyes wide. “Your name translates to abundance?”
“Yeah.” She laughed and then chewed on her bottom lip. Fuck, here I thought I had the most autumnal name, but she had me beat. “It’s kinda why I liked Thanksgiving so much. I sorta go with the holiday, but tonight, when you introduced yourself?—”
“Harvest. Cosecha,” I cut her off without meaning to, and she nodded. I took our plates and set them on the nightstand before pulling her back on my lap, my fingers tangling in the hair at the back of her head.
“We’re so fucking meant to be,” I said, my voice hoarse. “When you marry me, little girl, your name will literally mean abundant harvest.” Her laughter rang out, but she simply leaned closer and rested her head against my shoulder.
“WhenI marry you? Notif? You’re that sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“I’m not too cheesy for you?” I shook my head, my fingers still stroking the ends of her hair.
“Not at all. I love cheesy.” Her head lifted, and the sight of her smiling so brightly, those big hazel eyes locked on mine, the next thing I said rolled past my lips as easily as breathing.
“I love you.” I knew it was crazy.
We’d met less than twenty-four hours ago, shit, less than twelve hours ago, but I knew I loved her down to the marrow of my bones. Abby, my very own abundance of love and goodness and a future so bright, was all mine.
