Chapter 10
CALEB
An unexpected burst of nerves hits me as I unlock the front door.
Pocketing my keys, I hesitate before going in.
The bouquet of roses tucked under my arm starts to slip, and I quickly adjust it before it falls.
Catching a whiff of the bright red blooms, I study them for a second. Did I buy enough? Too many?
When I was at the florist, they told me one dozen was okay, but two dozen was better.
Three dozen would be too much, the girl behind the counter told me in confidence.
“For a grand gesture like a proposal, I’d say get as many as possible.
But given that it’s your first Valentine’s Day together, I think something a little more understated would be best.”
Because of course she knows about Vienna.
In the week and a half since Frieda tried to kill her, the entire town has taken Vienna under their wing.
Her boss at The Laughing Goat gave her two weeks paid vacation to recuperate, along with a sworn reassurance that her job would be waiting afterwards.
The owner of Beauty and Bliss, the clothing shop in town, donated a new wardrobe to replace the one that was destroyed in the fire.
Max gave Vienna the loaner car, brushing off the gift as a tax write-off.
As soon as the younger Mariano—Carlo, who runs the place now—found out what had happened, he insisted on sending over dinner every night, so Vienna wouldn’t have to worry about cooking.
Not that I’d let her. After everything she’s been through, she’s more than due a rest.
“You don’t have to cook for me,” Vienna argued yesterday morning when she came into the kitchen to find me tossing yet another round of scorched pancakes into the trash. “I can fry up some eggs. Or just have some toast with peanut butter. I don’t want you to go through all this trouble.”
“How else will I get practice?” I asked her with a grin. “Clearly, I need it.”
“At least let me help, then,” she said as she sidled up next to me. “If not, you’re going to run out of batter.”
I picked her up and carried her around the island to set her on one of the stools in front of it. “Then you can tell me what to do. But I want you sitting. Resting. Not on your feet when you don’t have to be.”
Honestly, I’d be happier if Vienna found a different job instead of going back to The Laughing Goat next week.
Not that I have a problem with her working in a restaurant, but I’m not crazy about her having to stand for so long.
I’d prefer to see her working behind a desk, where she can give her leg plenty of time to heal.
Okay, fine. Maybe I’m not crazy about her working in a restaurant, where she’ll be dealing with dozens of people every day—any of whom might get ideas about hurting her.
Rationally, I know it’s highly unlikely with Frieda in jail and her boyfriend, Tom, recently cleared of any wrongdoing. Still. I worry.
But Vienna says she likes working in food service. She likes how busy it is, and the easy camaraderie of the employees. She’s hoping to start waiting tables during lunch soon, where she can earn tips and meet more of the locals.
“Plus,” she explained when I brought up the idea of an office job, “the schedule is more flexible in a restaurant. So when I have the money to finish my paramedic training, I’ll be able to work around my classes.”
I’ve toyed with offering to pay for her classes so she can start them next semester. I’ve got the money, after all. And I hate the idea of Vienna putting her dreams on hold any longer than she already has.
But I haven’t. I won’t. Not yet, at least. Not when we’ve only been dating for two weeks, and I’m not entirely sure Vienna’s even going to stay in Bliss.
No, she hasn’t said anything about leaving. But she hasn’t mentioned staying long-term, either. And shit, I really want her to.
The doorknob pulls out of my hand as the door opens, revealing an amused Vienna on the other side of it. “Did you forget the code?” she asks with a smile. “Or are you just standing outside in the cold for the heck of it?”
Though I’ve never been one to get embarrassed about things, my cheeks warm. “I didn’t forget the code. I was just… thinking.”
She shivers as a gust of wind comes through the doorway. “Well, it might be more comfortable to think inside.”
“It would be,” I agree. “And it’s too cold for you to be standing here.” Ducking my head, I give her a quick kiss. Her lips are warm and soft and taste slightly of chocolate. Putting my hand on her shoulder, I gently steer Vienna inside and follow her in, then turn to lock the door behind me.
Once the last of the three locks slides home, I face Vienna again.
She looks so damn pretty she actually takes my breath away for a second.
Her hair falls in loose curls around her shoulders, the color shifting from gold to copper as the light hits it.
She’s wearing a red V-neck sweater that dips just enough to give a tiny glimpse of her cleavage and clings to the swell of her breasts.
There’s a bit of sparkle over her eyes, making them look extra green, and her lips are rosy pink and shiny.
“You look amazing,” I finally say. Then I kiss her again. “Just amazing.”
Vienna blushes. Glancing down at her sweater, she replies, “I thought about dressing up more. Since it’s Valentine’s Day and all. But then I didn’t know if it would be weird to wear a dress, since we’re staying at home.”
My heart does this odd, flip-floppy thing. It likes hearing her call my house home.
“We could have gone out,” I tell her. “We still could, if you’d like.
I’m sure Mariano’s could fit us in. I’m sure you don’t want to eat out where you work, but Blissful Brews is an option, as well.
I’m pretty sure they’re doing some sort of Valentine’s Day special.
Or I could make some calls, see what’s available in Stowe or Montpelier. ”
My stomach jolts with nerves again. And with them, worry that I’ve messed the night up.
When I first mentioned doing something for Valentine’s Day, I suggested a nice dinner, or even an overnight stay in Burlington.
But Vienna said she wanted to stay in. She said she’d had enough excitement, and what she really wanted was a quiet evening alone with me.
It sounded good at the time. But what if that’s not what she really wanted?
I’ve heard some of my friends talk about how their women say they don’t want anything special when they really do.
Maybe Vienna has been hoping I’ll surprise her with some grand gesture, like four dozen roses and a carriage ride through the snow before dinner at a fancy restaurant, and I totally blew it.
It feels strange, feeling so uncertain about this. I never doubted myself in the past when it came to women. I was confident in what I had to offer them—cocky, yes, but it’s the truth—and I never worried about doing the wrong thing.
But Vienna’s different. I’ve known it from the start, and with each day that passes, I’m more certain of it.
“Oh, no,” Vienna says. “Staying in is perfect.” She pauses. Her brow creases. “Unless you want to go out?”
“Staying in works for me.” Remembering the flowers, I hold the bouquet out to her. “Your first gift of the night. I hope you like them.”
Her cheeks pink up with pleasure as she takes them from me. “I love them, Caleb. They’re gorgeous. And my favorite color.”
“I know.” Setting the gift bag I’ve been carrying down on the small table by the door, I shrug off my coat and hang it up.
Then I grab the bag with one hand and take Vienna’s with the other.
As I walk her over to the couch, I add, “I thought about three dozen. But the florist said that might be excessive.”
“Three dozen?” Her eyes widen. “I’ve never even gotten a dozen roses before. I don’t even know what I’d do with three.”
A spark of anger ignites. How is it that Vienna made it to twenty-eight without anyone buying her the roses she deserves? How have all the men in her life been so oblivious? So blind to the incredible woman in front of them?
“I’ll buy you flowers whenever you want,” I tell her. “If you’d prefer something other than roses, let me know.”
She lowers her head to sniff the flowers, then looks back up at me. “You don’t have to do that, Caleb. Roses are expensive.”
Taking the bouquet from her, I set it on the coffee table, then lift her onto my lap. Holding her gaze, I ask, “What did I say about doing things for you?”
Vienna bites her lip before giving me a sheepish look. “That you do it because you want to.”
“Right.” Cupping her cheek, I trace my finger down the line of her jaw. “Anything I do for you, it’s because I want to. Whether it’s flowers or buying you a new coat or taking the day off work to go snowmobiling with you. Seeing you happy makes me happy.”
“And trying to cook breakfast?” she asks with a smirk. “Even though I’m better at it?”
I jostle her on my lap. “Hey. I’m improving.”
She leans forward and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “You are.” Her smile fades as her expression turns earnest. “No one has ever done anything like that for me before. Cooking me breakfast, or taking me snowmobiling, or bringing me to four different stores to find the perfect winter coat.”
A rush of intense emotion slams into me, and I hug her close. “Well. Someone will now. Me.”
“Caleb.”
The words are right there, so close to coming out.
Will you stay?
Stay in Bliss. Stay at my house. Not just as a stop-gap until she has enough money for an apartment, but permanently.
I know it’s soon—sooner than I ever would have imagined asking a woman to move in with me. But my gut tells me it’s right. So does my heart. It’s only fear keeping me from asking.
Rather than saying what I really want, I grab the gift bag from the coffee table and set it on Vienna’s lap. “Another present,” I explain. When I saw the bright red leather planner in Bookish Bliss, it seemed perfect for her to use when she starts up with her classes again.