**Chapter 10** **GABRIELLA** "Isn't this time of year just magical?" I ask Caleb, twirling in bliss as the fresh snowflakes dance against my cheeks, transforming the mundane sidewalk into something out of a fairy tale. But my reverie is abruptly shattered. “Watch it!” Caleb’s command slices through the air, his voice firm as he raises a protective hand, palm meeting the chest of a startled man in a tailored suit who’s nearly collided with me. “Sorry,” I murmur, shame creeping in. I had been lost in my whimsical moment, completely oblivious to the bustling sidewalk around us. Silly spins are better left for quieter places. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, sweetheart,” Caleb reassures me, his tone softening as he turns his gaze back to me. But the moment quickly shifts. “As for you…” he directs his ire back to the man, “watch where the hell you’re going.” The stranger’s eyes widen, and he instinctively takes a step back, stammering an apology to me instead. “Sorry, ma’am.” I blink in surprise, caught off-guard by this unexpected show of chivalry directed my way. With a soothing smile, Caleb takes my hand, the warmth of his grip melting away the embarrassment. “So, what’s next on our agenda?” Turning back to glance at the man retreating into the crowd, I sigh. “That was kind of my fault.” “He should be more careful. It’s like driving; you can’t rear-end someone just because they’ve stopped. It’s basic courtesy.” He has a point, of course. Though I’d probably have approached it a bit more delicately. “So, where to next?” I prompt, hoping to steer the conversation back to lighter territory. “I figured you wanted to pop into your office,” he replies, nudging me forward as we meander through the busy street. We had set out earlier to pick up a few more decorations for the holiday, and these outings had become my favorite part of the season. The mornings begin wrapped in intimacy, with Caleb coaxing me from slumber with deliciously wicked intentions before we shift to cozy breakfasts. The afternoons are spent wandering shops, selecting ornaments and trinkets to transform his home into a winter wonderland. Night falls with us immersed in holiday classics, often tangled up on the couch, lost in laughter and kisses. “I do, but it can wait a little longer,” he answers. “I’m just so eager to get back and see the deliveries!” I admit giddily. Today marks the arrival of our grand living room tree and a host of ornaments. Each piece is an element of joy, a fragment of the holiday spirit that will soon fill the space around us. I can hardly wait to see it all come together. With a tender gesture, he drops my hand momentarily, instead wrapping his arm around my shoulder, drawing me closer as we head back to his building. “Oh crap,” I stop in my tracks, my gaze fixed on the dim building ahead—**Cup of Sugar**. “What could have happened?” Caleb's demeanor stiffens. “I thought you didn’t want to go back?” “Surprised is all,” I reply, realizing how much the coffee shop meant to me. “Another place will pop up, and you could always apply. I bet you’d fit right in.” His tone hints at displeasure, and I tiptoe to plant a quick kiss on his lips. “No way! I love my current job, and besides, I have the best boss.” His grin broadens as he gives my backside a playful squeeze. “Pretty good?” “Caleb!” I laugh, pushing him away as I eye the street. “People are watching!” “I don’t give a damn,” he states with a laugh, pulling me back to his side. “Come to my office with me?” “I’d love to,” I agree, excitement building as we enter the building together. Recently, he’d been working from home, and I worried I might be diverting his focus, but he always assured me he’d rather be by my side, a sentiment I wholeheartedly cherished. His home— now increasingly mine— feels like a sanctuary. My clothes are nestled in his closet, and my belongings fill his bathroom. We are entwined in this life together, and amidst all my past homes, this one stands out, feeling undeniably like I belong. The elevator doors sweep open, and a few coworkers step in, stealing glances at us—specifically at Caleb, who hasn’t relinquished my hand. Do they recognize him? Given his role as both the building's and office's owner, surely they’ve crossed paths before? “I like the holiday music,” I comment, breaking the silence. “Me too,” replies a woman beside me, while a man gives a nod of agreement. “I like when you sing them,” Caleb teases, causing me to snort out a laugh, my cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and mirth. “I have the worst voice. Don't believe him; he's being sweet!” I jab a playful elbow into his side, all the while smiling. “You know I love to hear your voice,” he counters, his fingers tracing a gentle path along my neck, his smile melting me further. The two coworkers exchange puzzled looks just as the elevator doors slide open again, and they hastily exit. “Was that awkward?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow as we step onto the floor. “Was what awkward?” “Them. Did you know them?” “I’ve seen them around,” he shrugs, his indifference palpable. “Do they work for you?” “They might.” “You don’t know?” “I manage a small team who handle their own people. Micromanaging is not really my style,” he explains matter-of-factly. I can respect that, although I’d always pictured him as the type to know the ins and outs of everyone’s lives. But maybe not; they could be new hires or passing faces. As we walk down a lengthy hallway adorned with glass-fronted offices, curious eyes follow our strides. A woman in a sleek suit passes us, briefly nodding. “Hi!” I chirp, attempting to break the ice. “Ah, hi,” she responds, startled, “Mr. Shepherd.” She gives another swift nod to Caleb before hurrying past us. I turn to him, a frown creasing my brow. “What’s up with everyone? They seem... unusual.” “Must be the holiday spirit,” he comments dryly, quickening his pace as we near the opaque glass of two large double doors. A desk stands vigil outside one, and Caleb kindly opens a door for me, ushering me inside. The moment I cross the threshold into his office, I am enveloped by the distinct scent of him—a blend of cologne and something exclusive that makes my heart flutter. I can’t suppress a contented sigh. “Maybe we should put a tree in here,” I suggest, pointing to an empty corner, envisioning Christmas cheer intermingling with his polished decor. His office feels grand yet inviting, with a large desk facing majestic views of the city and a cozy sofa nestled next to a warm fireplace. “If you want,” he replies nonchalantly, settling into his oversized chair, exuding authority and allure. He motions for me to approach, and I don’t need a second invitation. My heart races as I move closer, craving the warmth and intimacy of his presence.