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Seven
The Royal Discovery Botanical Gardens were made up of, according to the welcome sign, “8 Acres of Land Serving as a Texas Oasis.”
There was a massive white tent furnished with outdoor air conditioners. On their way to the tent, they approached a round decorative fountain. Aubrey, her hand in Vic’s, stared down into the splashing water where pennies to buy wishes had been tossed, and she wondered what they represented. Love? Money? Memory recovery?
“Penny for your thoughts?” Vic waggled her hand when she didn’t answer right away.
“I have an embarrassing question,” she finally mustered the courage to say. She looked up at his handsome, questioning face. “Why don’t we live together? I’m sure there’s a plausible reason, but I can’t remember it.”
Them living apart made no sense. They’d been dating since high school and were in love with each other, and yet he lived on the ranch with his family and she had her own place. Funds weren’t a problem for Vic, and she had a healthy bank account as well. Why hadn’t they purchased a slice of land to call their own by now? The answer seemed just out of reach.
“Aubrey...”
Frustrated by his tone, which hinted he might blow her off instead of give her an answer, she held up a palm. “Please don’t tell me you’re trying to protect me by not telling me why.”
“Okay.” He inhaled deeply, pausing to glance over his shoulder at the tent where ticketed couples were entering. He was probably wishing he’d taken her inside to dance rather than lingering at the Contemplate Your Life fountain. Finally, he turned back to her. “You were prioritizing graduate school when we were trying to decide on a future. We haven’t spoken about it since.”
“At all?”
“Not a word.” He held her gaze steadily. He wasn’t lying. She could tell.
Graduate school. The mere mention of those two words sparked...well, not a memory, but a feeling. She’d passionately pursued school and had made education her priority. Had she prioritized her career over Vic? It didn’t paint a pretty picture of her former self.
“It was the right thing to do,” he said. “My future was laid out for me, so at the time I didn’t understand your drive to go to school and have a career separate from what I could provide. I was wrong, which you told me. Then you proved it to me. You achieved exactly what you set out to do, Ms. Collins.”
“And it ultimately didn’t hurt our relationship.” Her hand in his, she noted the stiffness in his fingers as well as his answering silence. No matter what arguments must have ensued around that very topic, they were here, together. She hadn’t blown him off to date a frat boy or given up on them. She’d instinctively known Vic was the best man for her.
“Would you like to go inside?” he invited.
“I didn’t wear my dancing shoes for nothing.”
“Slow songs only. Doctor’s orders.”
Lights were strung and a twinkling chandelier hung from the center of the tent. A four-piece band on a stage played sophisticated, smooth jazz. Perfect for slow dancing.
Couples of all ages were either sitting at the sparse round tables enjoying sparkling cocktails or swaying to the music on a parquet dance floor atop the manicured lawn. Potted plants, in a variety of sizes from tall to stout, were arranged in the corners, small engraved signs announcing the genus and species jabbed into the soil.
“Not only an entertaining evening, but an educational one as well,” she said as she stroked a particularly broad Monstera leaf.
“I thought you’d appreciate that. Do you want a drink?”
She shook her head.
“How about a dance?”
“That I’ll take.”
Nothing felt more right than joining Vic on the dance floor. They fell into sync with each other as they moved to the music, her hand in his as he held her close. Dancing with him while wearing a beautiful dress sparked a memory from their past—more clear and crisp than any she’d had since the accident. She laughed aloud, so thrilled to have it shining bright for her to observe.
He smiled with her. “What is it?”
“A memory. It came out of nowhere and now here it is, crystal clear. Prom. My senior prom.” She arched an eyebrow. “I wore red.”
“Everywhere,” he growled against the tender shell of her ear. “From a lacy bra and panty set to the dress with no sleeves. Not a single spaghetti strap to save me.”
“Nope. Nothing but cleavage for days, and I wore a push-up bra. I was on a mission.” She’d planned the perfect night—she’d vowed to lose her virginity to Vic on prom night. He’d been patient. She’d been patient, though they’d had plenty of make-out nights at his family’s house or hers that had nearly trampled over that line drawn in the sand. If she was anything, it was decisive. She’d known what she wanted and had refused to let anyone talk her into—or out of—sleeping with him.
“We couldn’t be stopped,” she whispered, butterflies of excitement fluttering in her stomach. “And now here we are, roadblocks everywhere.”
