19. Jovie #2
“Actually, she isn’t well, Mr. Salvati. She threw up her smoothie about twenty minutes ago. I think she caught a stomach bug.”
“Marlowe,” I warn her to stop talking.
Santino’s touch is filled with love and care as his fingertips brush across my warm cheek. “We’ll close the shop today so you can rest and I can take care of you.”
“Santino, I can’t just close the store because I don’t feel good. I have a business to run.”
He kisses the middle of my forehead, cupping my face with his large hands. “I’ll cover any expenses lost, Sweet Girl.”
“I love that you want to do that for me, but I’m not comfortable with it. This is my livelihood, Santino. I’m proud of what I do and of my business. I don’t like closing the store. My dream is to grow it and maybe if I’m lucky, I can open another store, then another.”
“And she will since she is going to that flower conference! She wins that money, everything will change.” Marlowe realizes her mistake and rolls her lips together. She bends down, snagging her purse. “I’m going to go,” she winces with a frown.
Santino crosses his arms as he stares at me.
“I see you two have a few things to figure out.”
She said that on purpose.
Marlowe escapes, throwing me to the wolf.
A big bad sexy wolf. Who is clearly upset with me right now.
My stomach turns again from the stress, and I launch myself into the bathroom, curling over the toilet just in time to throw up more of that smoothie.
“You aren’t working today. You can fight with me later about it.
You’re sick, Jovie. Let me take care of you.
I can get someone in here to help with orders if you really want to stay open.
” He gathers my hair away from my face, pulling it behind my back, and also rubs sweet circles between my shoulders.
“Even though I didn’t tell you about the conference?” I grumble, yanking toilet paper off the roll.
“You’re going to tell me about it now,” he states, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with cold water. He places it on the back of my neck, and I moan in relief as the cold seeps into my body.
He’s right.
I’m not feeling well at all. The more time that passes, the worse I feel.
Santino lifts me into his arms and carries me across the room to the bed. The muscle in his sculpted jaw tenses. He tugs my shirt off, then my pants, and dresses me in comfortable pajamas that really just consist of a shirt that belongs to him.
He’s quiet the entire time, his brows pinched, hurt and anger etched in the wrinkles.
That has my stomach turning too. He tucks me in bed, then sits on the edge of the mattress.
A large gold ring on his index finger glistens from the morning sun peaking through the blinds.
He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, the cold metal of the ring touching my cheek.
“Want to tell me about this conference?” He asks, his beautiful lips still holding onto a frown. “Did you not trust me enough to tell me? Is that why?”
I snag his hand in mine, gripping it tight. “No, no, Santino. I do trust you. More than anything. I promise. Remember when you came to the shop for the first time after finding out the truth about who was sending you flowers?”
He smirks, scratching his chin. “I remember.”
“I found out that night that I got accepted.” I open my nightstand drawer and pull out the folded piece of paper.
“Everything got so hectic, you know? Especially things with Luca and I didn’t know the right time to tell you.
I promise, I wasn’t trying to hide anything. I was waiting for a better time.”
The more he reads from my acceptance letter, the larger he grins. He becomes excited, reading every line louder and louder until he gets to the end.
“And we can’t wait to see you and your flowers!
” He shouts, leaping to his feet. “Sweet Girl! This is fucking amazing.” He plants a kiss on me, then goes back to pacing.
“We can take the jet. You won’t have to worry about anything when it comes to transporting your flowers.
We’ll stay in the best hotel too.” He looks up at me again.
“I’m so fucking proud of you. This deserves celebration! I’ll get champagne for tonight.”
Oh, no.
“No!” I shout, then clear my throat. “I mean, no. I’m not feeling that great. Maybe some sparkling grape juice? You can have champagne still.”
His eyes soften. “Of course. And I’m not drinking unless you are.
Sparkling grape juice it is.” He rereads the letter again.
“This is phenomenal, Jovie. I hope you’re proud of yourself because I’m so fucking proud of you.
I’m proud to call you mine. You’re so fucking amazing.
Do you know what you’re going to do for the show yet? ”
Tears well up in my eyes. “No, not yet. I have a little more time before I start practicing. I’ll use fake flowers first and save the real flowers for the show.”
“I’ll be there for you every step of the way.
Whatever you need. I’ll have a party to celebrate your success.
You deserve it. I’m going to call my gardener to help run your store.
He’ll know what he’s doing and then I’ll come back here and take care of you.
Fuck, Jovie,” he whispers as he glances over his shoulder. “I love you.”
Now. Now is the perfect time to tell him I’m pregnant. There isn’t a better moment.
Yet all I say is, “I love you too, Santino. So much.”
And when he walks down the steps, I’m left with another secret I’ve kept from him.