Page 39 of Miami Ice (Miami Sports #2)

July 1st

Beckham Bailey Residence

Miami Beach

This is nearly the second-best day of the year, besides Christmas morning.

That’s because it’s July 1 st .

Officially kicking off Christmas in July.

I grin as I work on the jar I’m painting. Pomegranate red, of course, for the big Christmas in July show I’m doing in two weeks.

I glance around my studio. My new studio, that is, and think of how much my life has changed this past year.

Because my new studio isn’t in the artist rented space like I had originally planned.

Instead, my studio is in a room converted just for me in Beckham’s Miami Beach house.

Love for Beckham fills my heart as I look around the room. Beckham asked if I would like a room in his house purely as a workspace, with me being free to come and go as I pleased to work on my art. At first, I refused. I didn’t want to encroach on him in that way, especially as our relationship was so new.

But as Beckham helped me heal from my accident—and working with me through the emotional side effects caused by a concussion—I knew this was a man who was never going to leave my side. He told me I was it for him, and in the future, he’d ask me to marry him. There was no pressure for me to move in or even make his home the base for my art studio, he simply brought it up and left it for me to decide.

It didn’t take me long to come to the conclusion that a good first step was to base my studio out of his house.

And it turned out to be the best thing ever.

We picked a spacious room on the second floor to be my new studio. It’s a room overlooking the pool and the bay, with loads of natural light. Beckham hired an interior designer to create the space, with different areas for storage, shipping, and painting, and a sink was installed so I could rinse out my brushes. I have a gorgeous blue and white stenciled floor, and built-in white shelving and cabinets. I have a large island in the middle with blue chairs around it as my main workspace.

It’s beautiful, spacious, and I absolutely love it.

And every time I step into my studio to work, I’m reminded of just how much Beckham loves me.

I hum along to the Christmas music I have playing as I work. I moved in with Beckham in June, once the Miami Manatees were eliminated in the Eastern Conference Finals.

I frown for a moment, remembering how it was so hard to make it to a Game 7 and lose the series. Beckham was upset, of course, but he also knew he and the team did everything they could to win the series. We were also down two key players, with Wyatt out with a lower body injury and the starting goalie missing the last game due to concussion protocol. It was a long, physical series, and in the end, the Manatees just couldn’t make it all the way to the championship.

We took a vacation right after the Manatees were eliminated, heading off to Turks and Caicos so Beckham could rest and recover. It was there, when walking along the white sand beaches and gazing out over the turquoise water, that I told Beckham I had no plans to renew the lease on the apartment when Ella moved out at the end of the month, and in fact, I planned to move in with him. The joy that spread over his face was a moment that it etched in my mind. I remember how he picked me up and swung me around, then how he kissed me on that beach and told me how much he loved me.

Now this is my home.

And I love living here with Beckham.

He respects my work schedule and does his own thing while I’m up here working. He does his workout and takes Winston for several walks a day. He’s become very close with Antoni, and as he’s in his off-season, too, they hang out together. Antoni will be over here playing video games, or Beckham goes over to Antoni’s to work out or shoot hoops. If Aiden and Wyatt are in town, he spends time with them. Beckham runs any errands that need to be done and makes lunch for the both of us every day. I told him he doesn’t have to do that, but Beckham says he enjoys it, so I let him.

I spend time with my friends, too, having a once-a-month girls’ night out dinner with Ella, Chloe and Emilee. I’ll have lunch with Scarlett or get a coffee with Becca; and Chloe will come over for lunch or dinner. It’s important to me to nurture these bonds, and I enjoy the time I spend with my friends and my twin.

My twin . I smile as I continue to paint my jar. We still share our amazing bond, and I see her quite a bit. Jordan and Beckham get along well, so we do double dates all the time. In fact, at the end of the month, they are coming up with us to Wisconsin to spend time at a lake house Beckham has rented. Beckham got a spacious house in the Chain O’ Lakes region where he’s from, and we’re going to spend our time enjoying the lakes, chilling out, and drinking wine by the fire at the end of the night. I can’t wait to see where Beckham grew up. I’ve met his parents, of course, and I absolutely adore them. I can’t wait to see the inn and get to know them even better. I also can’t wait to see Beckham’s high school and experience the town where he grew up.

But we won’t leave until after my big Christmas in July show that is happening in the middle of the month. I’m already taking pre-orders, and of course, my Christmas jars are outselling everything else.

What a turnaround from the previous summer!

My business took off thanks to Becca and Beckham sharing my jars on social media. I have steady orders, I sell out at shows, and I’m busy everyday replenishing stock or shipping. I feel so blessed that so many people love my jars and I’m able to finally make a living doing something I love.

Buzz!

I glance over at my phone, and it’s Beckham. I smile. I love that he texts me even though he’s downstairs. I set aside my paint brush and read his text:

Cupcake. What do you want for lunch? You know I’ll eat whatever you want I don’t care.

I chuckle at that. That’s my Beckham.

I glance around my workshop—which Beckham hasn’t seen since he left this morning to workout with Antoni—and decide it’s time for him to see what I’ve done.

I text him back:

I think a salad with salmon sounds nice. Can you come on up here to the studio first, though? I want to show you something.

Beckham Bailey is typing …

On my way.

I pick up my brush and finish up the jar I’m working on. By the time I hear Beckham on the stairs, I’ve completed the final coat and set it aside.

When Beckham reaches the threshold of the studio, he stops. I grin at him as his doe-eyes take in the studio, which I have decked out for Christmas. I have a Christmas tree in one corner of the room, fully decorated with confectionery ornaments, and faux garlands with twinkling multi-colored lights adorn the tops of the windows.

And, of course, Christmas music is blasting from my Spotify playlist.

Specifically, “Sleigh Ride.”

From the look on his face, I can tell Beckham has no idea why the room is sprinkled with Christmas décor and I’m listening to Christmas music.

“Grumpy. Do you know what day this is?” I ask excitedly, getting up from my seat.

He pushes down on his backwards baseball cap. “It’s not Christmas.”

“No. But it’s July first.”

Beckham’s face lights in recognition as his hands find my hips. “Oh, God, it’s Christmas in July.”

I laugh at the scowl that has formed on his handsome face. “Yes, it is.”

“Biggest marketing scam ever ,” he declares.

“No, it’s the second celebration of Christmas on July 25 th according to Wikipedia.”

Beckham bursts out laughing. “We’re basing this celebration on Wikipedia?”

“It has historical roots!”

“I’m sure it does. But does it say to celebrate it all month long?”

Damn it. I can’t remember what I read on Wikipedia.

“Would you like to pull up Wikipedia on your phone?” Beckham teases.

“Shut up!” I say, giggling.

“You’re not planning to decorate the whole house for Christmas in July, are you?” Beckham asks, a wary look entering his dark brown eyes.

I laugh. “No. You’re safe. You know my rule. As soon as the lights are turned out for the last trick-or-treater, Christmas comes out of storage.”

Beckham rolls his eyes. I grin, as I know he doesn’t care.

“I can’t believe we have one bedroom in our home dedicated to storing Christmas crap,” he quips.

“It’s so convenient,” I say happily. “I don’t have to drive to the storage unit like I did when I was in the apartment.”

He chuckles and dips his head, pressing a sweet kiss upon my lips. “I think it’s very convenient having you live with me. Even if all your Christmas stuff came with you as a package deal.”

I move my hands to his face, running it over his freshly shaved skin. “I haven’t even lived with you a full month yet. You might change your mind about that,” I tease.

“Nope. I know it just as much as I knew from the first night you walked into Hotel Fredrico with that gift tag on your neck. You were it, Georgie.”

Swoon.

“I love you,” I say.

“I love you,” Beckham says, kissing me once again.

“Do you love me enough to use your pink maniacal nutcracker tumbler this month?” I tease.

He bursts out laughing, and I join him.

“What do you think?” he asks.

I smile up at him, feeling nothing but love for this man in my heart. “I think you will.”

“You’re right,” he says, his mouth finding mine.

As I kiss him back, I know he will.

Because that’s how much he loves me, I think happily.

And I fully intend to spend the rest of my life giving that love right back to him.

THE END