A low chuckle left my mouth, but all humor died when his hips rocked briefly against mine.

“Abuela will be fine; she’s tough as nails. Or don’t you remember how I had to literally pluck her off that dance floor last Christmas?” He tugged at the lobe of my ear with his teeth. “And Isabel’s pregnancy doesn’t put her at risk; Gonzalo called the airline to ask. Twice.”

I whimpered, relishing in the sensation of feeling Aaron all around me—his warmth, the strength of his body, his breath and voice falling on my skin—but also in how deep his words and actions ran. How much love and attention there was in them, in him.

“It’s crazy how much my family adores you,” I told him, grasping both his arms with neglected need running through my body. “You are like a Martín Whisperer. How did you manage to do that?”

“I thought that my success in convincing them about how serious I was about you after we confessed the truth about our deal was pure luck, but I might have a way with words when it comes to the Martíns,” he whispered like it was his biggest secret. “With one particular Martín though, I want to believe I have a way with more than just that.”

My hands trailed up his strong arms, passing across his rounded shoulders and finally clasping behind his neck. “You do,” I murmured. “I adore you too. Treasure you. Love you. Want you. Need you.” I pulled him closer.

“Who’s being awfully distracting now?” he rasped.

I answered by grinding myself against his hard body, briefly but intently. A grunt fell from his lips.

“Look at you, teasing me like this. What an adoring and distracting woman I have in my hands.”

“How much longer do we have?” I arched my back, pressing our chests together.

He exhaled roughly. “Not nearly enough for what I have in mind.” His palm fell on my behind, as if he couldn’t stop himself. He squeezed me possessively, proving his point. His voice turned low. “Later, I swear. As soon as I get you alone in our room.”

Aaron kissed me deeply then, silently promising all the things he’d do to me much later. Hours from now, when we finally reached the house we had rented in Montauk for the weekend and our family was settled comfortably inside.

“Okay.” Cupping his face in my palms, I brushed one last kiss against his lips. “Have you talked to your dad?”

Aaron reluctantly peeled himself off me and pressed the yellow button on the panel. The elevator resumed its descent. “Yes, earlier today,” he admitted almost guardedly. Just like every time he talked about Richard.

I knew Aaron hadn’t let go of part of the guilt he carried around, but father and son had come a long way. And they both knew Richard didn’t have much time. This past year had already been a gift.

“He and Martha should be getting to the house in a few hours.”

Martha, his caregiver, was another gift sent straight from heaven. She was amazing to Richard and always kept us updated. We trusted her fully, and having her constant support and company not only reassured Aaron and me, but also soothed Richard.

“I’ll check on them again while we wait for your family at the airport.”

The elevator doors opened in front of us, and we stepped out at the same time.

“Everything will be all right, amor,” I told him, breaking my rules and reaching for his hand in the middle of the lobby. “Your dad will make it to Montauk safely, and he is going to love everyone. Just how everyone will love him.”

Breaking his own rules too, he brought my hand to his mouth, his lips brushing the backs of my fingers. “I know, baby,” he whispered just for me. “Everything will always be okay, no matter what. You know why?”

We stepped out of the building, right into one of New York’s overwhelming summer days.

“Why?”

“Because it’s you and me.” He smiled down at me then, meeting my gaze with the conviction his words held. Just as he held my heart in his hands. My love. My whole world. Confidently and completely. “And no matter what comes our way, we have each other.” That Aaron smile, which was just for me and never failed to make my heart skip a beat, widened. “We are in this together, for the long run.”

The End

About the Author

Elena is a Spanish writer, a self-confessed hopeless romantic and much Mr. B’s dismay, a proud book hoarder. After years of devouring stories and posting––okay fine, yelling––about them on her Instagram @thebibliotheque, she has finally taken the leap and started creating some of her own.

While she'd never describe herself as adventurous, having a degree in chemical engineering and being the Monica of her group of friends, this definitely qualifies as the most exciting yet terrifying project she has ever taken on. She's probably biting her nails as you read this. Heck, she's probably full on freaking out. But don't mind her, that's just a little of––hopefully healthy––stage fright.

Regardless, she cannot wait to finally share her dream with you. To perhaps gush over HEAs together, and who knows, maybe fall a little more in love with love. Because isn't that the point on all of this?

www.authorelenaarmas.com

Acknowledgments

The only reason why you are currently holding The Spanish Love Deception in your hands is because a very special someone asked me the following question “But Elena, why don’t you publish it? You have to!”. To be completely honest, I thought her completely insane (I still do, sometimes) but I guess having someone else’s faith and encouragement can be enough to take a leap and reach out for your dreams. Ella, this book wouldn’t have been possible without you. If I could get away with it, I’d write pages and pages about the reasons why you have become this crucial and huge piece of the puzzle that is my life. But you’d roll your eyes so hard, I’d have to take a flight and go visit you at the ER. So, I’ll just say thank you. From the very bottom of my heart, thank you. For every word of encouragement, every piece of advice, for your guidance, for every single minute of those hour long VMs, for all the TMIs, for every single one of your “shut up”, and above all, for your precious friendship.

Cris y Ana … tías, lo he hecho. Gracias por estar ahí para mí desde que éramos unas mocosas insoportables que se creían súper alternativas. Me habéis animado (y psicoanalizado, seamos claras) hasta que me he lanzado a seguir mis sueños. Por ello, siempre seréis parte de ellos. Vuestra amistad lo significa todo, ya lo sabéis.

Erin, I have a confession. The day I casually asked if you’d like to beta read this book for me, I played it cool but I was about a hair away from losing my shit. But oh my gosh, you accepted and just like you recently said, turns out we make a pretty great team. TSLD wouldn’t be the same today if you hadn’t beta read it (imagine how much everyone would have hated Gonzalo). Thank you, Erin. I really hope this was only our first.

Cristina, you have been so good to me. Your kindness and unconditional support meant the freaking world. I can’t believe I used to go to you for romance recs and now, I am gushing over your absolutely beautiful and amazing review of TSLD. Thank you, hermosa. You have been a lifesaver and a total star, and your help has made all the difference. I swear, I’ll write you the steamiest book with your Cavill-esque hero. It’s a promise.