Page 37 of Unruly

Hell. Yes.

Cross wasn’t willing to take his eyes off his wife as they rode the elevator to the bottom floor of the Four Seasons. The bohemian dress she wore reminded him of years long gone—when they were younger, although things were not as simple then, either. The multicolored dress was low cut in the front and back, making him think they should have just stayed in the room for a little while longer.

He didn’t think he looked half as good as she did in his black slacks, and a white silk dress shirt.

“You’re not going to tell me what the surprise is?” Catherine asked.

“Nope.”

For the fifteenth time.

“But we’re basically downstairs now.”

“Still a firm no,” Cross said.

Catherine huffed, but her sweet smile told him that she wasn’t too angry about his little games. “Fine.”

Cross chuckled, and tugged his wife’s hand to bring her closer. Spinning her to stand in front of him, so that her back was to the elevator doors. He placed two fingers under her chin. Pressing a bit, Catherine looked up at him with twinkling green eyes. He bent down a couple of inches to catch her lips with his. Slow and languid, he let his kiss tattoo the familiarity of their love to her mouth while the elevator dropped the last few floors.

Catherine hummed a happy sound under her breath, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Cross shifted his weight from foot to foot, making Catherine sway with him so that his back was now turned to the door instead.

Yes, this was better.

Besides, he really wanted to see her face when …

The elevator jumped a bit as it came to a stop on the main floor. With the opening of the elevator came a warm breeze from the opened doors across the main entrance of the hotel. The draft of air sent the flowy skirt of Catherine’s dress blowing out around their legs.

She leaned up on tiptoes and pressed one last kiss to his mouth.

It was probably just enough for her surprise to see her.

“Ma!”

Catherine instantly turned into a statue in Cross’s arms. Her unsure gaze darted to his, and then over his shoulder. A joyous smile lit up her face, making Cross match the expression.

“Ma!” Cece shouted again. “I rides the plane! I did! I did!”

“Oh, my God, she is so loud,” Catherine said.

“My kid all over,” Cross agreed.

“You know it.”

“Happy anniversary, babe.”

Cross stepped aside to let his wife dart out of the elevator. Catherine did just that the very second he let her go from his embrace. Stepping out of the elevator, Cross found his daughter standing twenty feet away in the cutest yellow sundress, with matching colored sandals and a big bow in her tied up hair. Dante and Catrina stood on either side of their granddaughter. Cross was sure that the only thing keeping Cece still was Dante’s hand holding tightly to hers.

Cece’s excitement spilled out at the sight of her mother, and her little sandal-clad feet stomped up and down on the spot over and over. “I loves my ma, Ma.”

God, did she ever love her mother.

Catherine kneeled down in front of Cece with arms wide open. Finally, her grandfather let the child go. Cece wasted no time flying into her mother’s waiting hug. Cece’s little head tucked into Catherine’s neck and shoulder, and for a few moments, the rest of the world ceased to exist for the two.

Sure, his daughter adored him. She was his little firecracker.

Her mother, though?

There was some kind of bond with Catherine and Cece that no one came even remotely close to having with the child. Cross thought, sometimes, it reminded him of how attached to his father that he had been as a child.