Page 13 of Frozen Promises

Catalina

“Welcome back beautiful people and thanks for hanging with me. It’s Christmas, so you know what that means,” I pause for dramatic effect. After a beat, I throw my hands up, tossing the flour I’ve been holding to look like snow. “It’s time to decorate some Christmas cookies!”

Santi gives me a thumbs up from the opposite end of the camera, encouraging me to continue.

I dust my hands off on my Christmas apron and make sure the sexy Mrs. Claus dress I’m wearing is properly covering what it should cover.

One wrong move and this video will end up on an entirely different site.

Next to me, Elias is half naked.

I’m nothing if not a girl’s girl, and the girls went crazy after my first viral video of Elias at the beach over the summer.

My man looked damn good soaking wet, shirtless, and with his swim trunks hanging precariously low on his hips, doing little to hide the indention of his dick.

It was truly a sight to be seen . . . so I shared it with my millions of subscribers.

Elias is shirtless now, which is both delicious and distracting, wearing red Santa pants with white fuzz at the ankles and a matching red apron.

Santi had been adamant Elias wouldn’t agree to the costume, and honestly, I thought the same thing, but he shocked the hell out of us both when he put it on without complaint.

Now I’m wondering how I can get him out of it . . .

Focus, Catalina.

Elias must sense me staring because he turns his attention away from the snowman shaped cookie in his hand to see me ogling him. He smirks—cocky bastard—and quicker than I can follow, leans down and captures my lips in a way that has me wishing Santi wasn’t here.

“Oh, we are definitely keeping that kiss in,” I hear Santi murmur from behind the camera.

I blush, giggling as we break apart.

I’m so stupidly and annoyingly in love with my husband. Judging by the fondness in his expression, I know he feels the same, too.

“Should we do it now?” Elias asks, and my brain goes to a completely R-rated place.

“Do what?” I all but squeak, which just deepens his smirk.

“Frost the cookies. Unless you want me to frost something else.”

“Elias!” I blush, burning red.

“We’re keeping that in, too!” Santi snickers.

We’re definitely not.

The viewers would eat it up, though. Over the past year, Elias has willingly appeared in more of my videos and has become a fan favorite. I’m certain some of my followers like him more than me. My videos always seem to do better when we’re together, especially when he flirts with me.

MarkerBandit: “They are so cute together!”

ZoomieGremlin: “Damnnnn, Catalina, get it, queen! That man is FINE.”

MoodyCupcake23: “How does it feel to be God’s favorite?”

Honestly? Pretty damn good.

We frost the cookies as we tell my followers about our love story.

It’s being written every day. We’re open and honest about our past struggles and the changes we both had to make over the last year to make our marriage strong.

We talk about how Elias has continued to maintain a work-life balance, thanks to the help of his firm partner, César.

Together, they’ve been in the process of hiring more lawyers at the firm to pass some of their clients on.

Which means Elias is here a lot and has become somewhat of my unofficial manager for social media.

He helps with video ideas, keeps track of finances, answers emails regarding brand deals, and takes care of all the legal shit that I’m not good at.

In truth, he had been appalled at how little I knew, so he took over all contracts, which I’m fine with because legal language is so foreign to me.

It’s hot when Elias tries to talk to me in legal jargon.

We end up eating more of the frosting than actually frosting the cookies, but Santi promised it still made a good video. He promises to edit today and post tonight before taking a two-week vacation with Noah—a vacation I won’t be crashing this year.

When Santi leaves, Elias wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close. “Does Mrs. Claus want her gifts now?”

“Depends. Do any of my gifts involve you?” I hum, walking my fingers up his chest, earning a growl. Heat rushes between my thighs.

“And you say I’m the insatiable one.” He smirks, his hands moving down my back to cup my ass.

I shrug because there’s no denying it. I basically go into heat each time we have a moment to ourselves.

“I can be your present later, but I want you to open what I got you first,” he says.

“Fine, but only if you open yours.”

We shake on it before hurrying off to get the presents we bought for one another. Mine are under the tree, but Elias hid his out of fear I’d try to open them if he put them under the tree. Probably. I love gifts, and I tend to be too impatient to wait on opening them.

Elias joins me in the living room carrying four beautifully wrapped gifts.

“You wrapped those yourself?” I ask, impressed.

“Watched your tutorial.” He winks, which warms something deep in my heart. “Did pretty good, yeah?”

“They’re beautiful.”

Elias settles beside me on the couch, the twinkling lights from the Christmas tree casting a warm glow over us as we exchange gifts.

My heart races with anticipation, but despite my excitement, I nudge his pile toward him, insisting he goes first. As much as I love getting gifts, I love giving them more.

He starts with the smaller box—his favorite cologne, the one he’s been casually eyeing for months but never bought for himself.

A pleased smile tugs at his lips as he sprays a bit on his wrist and inhales.

Next, he unwraps the envelope with two tickets to an upcoming NFL game—his team, front-row seats.

He laughs, the sound deep and surprised, as he leans over to kiss my cheek while whispering, “You’re amazing. ”

But it’s the last gift that really gets him.

He opens the sleek black envelope and pulls out the boudoir album I had secretly put together—a surprise I’d been both nervous and excited about.

His eyes widen, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face as he flips through the pages.

He flips back and flips again. He lingers longer with each pass, tracing the edge of a photo like it might burn him.

Yeah . . . I’m pretty sure that one is his favorite.

Next is my turn. I unwrap the smallest box, opening a beautiful and delicate necklace with a heart shaped locket. Inside is a picture of us from high school and etched on the back is the date we started dating. “I can’t believe you remember that!”

“It was the second-best day of my life. How could I not?” he replies.

“Only second?”

“Our wedding being the first.”

I smile.

The next presents are new mics, tripods, and studio lights for my videos.

Until about a year ago, I didn’t think Elias gave a shit about my videos, especially after he called them silly.

Turns out he’s watched every one, and now he makes sure all my equipment is working and even started his own social media where all he does is repost my videos or posts pictures of me.

He’s terrible at it still, but I love him so much for trying.

When I reach for the last present, I hesitate. It’s about the size of a small laptop—flat and thin, maybe an inch thick. A vinyl album, maybe? Though that wouldn’t make much sense because we don’t own a record player.

I glance over at Elias, searching his face for a hint, but he gives nothing away. His expression is unreadable, calm, and patient.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I finally tear into the wrapping.

Once the wrapping paper is off, I turn the gift over in my hand to see a calendar. There are slight imperfections—a crinkled edge, a spot on the left-hand corner, and a cracked spine.

“Did you get me a calendar from a thrift shop?” Confusion laces my tone.

Still, ever so patient, he laughs and shakes his head. “No, open it.”

I do.

There’s writing in January. A quick flip through shows writing on every page. I turn back to January and see something marked for the second week. “Cruise dates?” I ask.

Elias nods as if I should know what it means.

When I flip it to February, I see something spanning two weeks. “London? What is this?”

“This, carino, is a calendar full of vacations. The ones I promised to take you on when we first started dating, but due to my demanding work schedule, we never went on,” he explains.

My eyes widen, mouth falling open. “So . . . ” I flip to March, April, and May to see vacations dispersed throughout. “Is this real?” I ask, still unable to believe what I’m seeing.

It’s all written out with blue ink in Elias’s handwriting.

“Very real. I figured you could start a series of vacation vlogs. Always filming in a new place each month. And you could—”

I kiss him, capturing his words before they can fully form. Emotion swells in my chest, too big to speak around. This gift is the sweetest thing he’s ever given me. Not just because of the travel plans—though those are incredible. They represent time. Time together.

Exactly what I asked of him a year ago.

And since that day, he’s shown up again and again. Even when it was hard. Even when it would’ve been easier to slip back into our old rhythms and excuses. He chose us, every single time.

That’s the real gift.

“Merry Christmas, Elias,” I murmur, voice thick with emotion.

“Merry Christmas, Catalina,” he replies, pulling me into his lap.

And then the world fades until there’s only us. Only him. For now, and every Christmas to come.