Page 84 of Something Borrowed

She rubbed her thumb over his knuckle. “It’s wonderful. And mutual. I hope it won’t change.”

“No worries there. Nothing could change it.”

Vic had to look away. Cal, despite all he’d been through, was still too sweet and naïve. Good things, great things—every kind of thing—could always change. That was life. And, though she was falling into a lovely stage of what if—what if it could work out between them? What if he was different from past men in her life because she was different?—she was all too aware that he didn’t know everything about her. His feelings would no doubt change once he did.

So, you should get on that, don’t you think? Full disclosure before you’re sucked in all the way and get crushed when he inevitably dumps you?

But how exactly did you start a conversation like that? Hey, I think you’re really great, but before we go any further, you should know a few things about me, chiefly . . . I’m a homewrecker and a thief.

Well, you did hint very early on that you had serious things to work through, hence why you didn’t want to start anything with him.

Not that you stuck to that.

No, not that she had . . .

Cal was tracing a lovely figure-eight design over and over in the palm of her hand now with his thumb. Was he aware of the pattern’s symbolism? Eternity. Her heart squeezed painfully—and she recognized that squeeze as hope. Even more than the premature pop of the word “love” into her thoughts earlier, this steeled her resolve.

I will have a serious conversation with him, so he’s eyes wide-open about me. And I will have it soon, she promised herself. For now, though, a change of subject was in order.

“How much time should I give it?” she asked.

It only took Cal a second. “To hear back about Christmas before you and Audra decide she’s permanently yours?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. At least a week. Maybe two? Animals can travel pretty far, and who knows? Maybe it was some sort of housesitting situation, where the owners went away for the holidays and got someone to watch the house and their pets, but the cat took off. They might not even know she’s gone yet.”

“Yeah,” Vic repeated, but even this—and even on the heels of her realization that she needed to have a serious conversation about difficult-for-her subjects with Cal—couldn’t fully pull her out of the clouds or make her believe things wouldn’t somehow be okay—especially when he pulled her close, gave her a warm squeeze and added, “Whatever happens, don’t worry. It’s all going to work out.”

They ended up, at Vic’s request, not going out for dinner as previously planned.

“I . . . I sometimes feel self-conscious, or I don’t know, it’s hard to relax in restaurants. Like sometimes I can, but—”

“Hey, hey,” Cal said soothingly. “No worries. I don’t have my heart set on a restaurant meal.”

Vic exhaled.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’d love to take you out for dinner anytime, anywhere—but it’s cool if you don’t feel like it. We—I—can make peanut butter sandwiches for all I care and eat in our underwear—” He broke off abruptly, realizing how that sounded. “I mean, uh—I just want to spend time with you.”

They ended up ordering in a feast of Chinese food, and it was perfect.

The rest of the week disappeared in a blink of similar cozy fun and togetherness. With the Second Chance closed until the New Year and Cal’s business doing the same, they had ample time to check off the to-do list of maintenance and repair chores Cal had created, including making the table in the corner of her “studio” into the Practical Penelope.

And since the table was being revamped, Vic decided to paint it. The color she chose? A fuchsia pink, so deep and vibrant it seemed to glow. With all her paints and brushes arranged on it, it looked like a piece of art itself. She loved it. So did Cal. In fact, after seeing it, he headed back to his truck and returned with several lengths of lipped shelving, painted white, so they’d just blend in with her walls.

“What are those for?” she asked.

“Do you trust me?”

Something jittered inside her. Trust was still too big a topic, maybe, even in jest—but in house repairs and renos? She sure did. Absolutely.

“I guess,” she said.

“I’ll pretend you said that with a whole lot more enthusiasm and confidence.”

“And what exactly am I trusting you with?”

“You’ll see. Why don’t you go make Audra a cup of tea?”