Page 33 of The No Falling Rule
Out of all the properties my family owns, this is the one that feels like home. We don’t come here often, but every time I do, I feel at peace.
After a few miles, we reach the main house perched by the ocean, the waves visible from the car.
“Diego!” Mia squeals, and I can’t help but chuckle. I love seeing her this happy.
“What, baby?” I ask casually as I hurry to open her door.
“This place is…” She trails off as I help her out of my truck. The bright smile on her face as she takes in every single detail around us makes me feel like a fucking king.Iput that smile there.
“I’m glad you like it. We’ll have time to explore later,” I say, guiding her toward the front door. “Let’s go start our Christmas date.” I lean down for a kiss. Mia’s arms loop around my shoulders, and I feel every single inch of her warm skin against mine.
We kiss slowly, savoring the fact that we’re here together—and that whatever this is between us, it feels more real, more permanent. Instead of getting my fill,I just crave her more. Not only physically—though, who are we kidding, I can’t wait to fuck her into oblivion—but in every way that matters.
Body, mind, and soul never made sense untilher.
I end the kiss with a gentle nip to her bottom lip, and she rewards me with a soft moan.
My good girl.
When I open the door, a flood of memories rushes in. Sunlight spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows, catching on the polished marble floors and the driftwood sculptures scattered around the living room. The walls are covered with family pictures—my parents as two young kids in love, then with my brothers, and finally with me.
I’ve always been a little ticked off that there are way more pictures from when they were a family of four than after I showed up. Still, the ones Iamin are some of my best memories—sunburned cheeks, my nose streaked white with sunscreen, endless days at the beach. Mom always said it’s better to have too much than not enough.
We're greeted by a ten-foot Christmas tree, fresh pine scent filling the air. Boxes of ornaments—hand-blown glass, gold ribbons, and family heirlooms from every trip—are stacked neatly beside it, waiting to be hung.The house feels both grand and familiar, like time has barely touched it.
“Diego…” Mia whispers, her trembling hand covering her mouth.
She squeezes my hand as we step into the foyer.
“How did you even plan this? You barely had time!” she asks, turning to me with eyes full of unshed tears—and a word she’s not ready to say yet.
“Well, I just knew how much this holiday means to you, and how much you missed celebrating it the traditional way,” I say, keeping my gaze locked on hers. “So I thought maybe you and I could start something today.”
I don’t finish the thought; I want to make sure we’re on the same page.
“The start of something new and beautiful,” she says softly. “Familiar yet strange. Scary but thrilling.”
And just like that, my fucking heart bursts out of my chest.
“The start ofus,” I say before capturing her lips with mine.
This kiss doesn’t last long—Mia’s itching to start decorating. I connect my phone to the house’s sound system and queue a mix of traditional Latin Christmas songs.
Mia inspects every ornament, garland, and bow with the wonder of a child. I stay back, happy to follow her lead. This is her show. I’m just here to support her and soak up her joy.
“What do you think about a golden tree?” she asks, biting her lip.
“If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do,” I say with a shrug.
Mia frowns. Then I frown.
“Diego, if we’re starting something together, I don’t want you to say ‘yes-dear’ to everything I say. I want your input, even if it’s just about colors.”
I press my lips together, fighting a grin. I get what she’s saying, but she doesn’t realize I’d hand her the moon and stars if that's what she wanted. She’s not ready to hear that, so instead I say, “You want my input?”
She nods, eagerly.
“I think a golden tree’s a great idea,” I say. “We can add a few red accents for a pop of color.”
