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It was a bit alarming how just hearing his voice made her feel happy. She reached for her snark arsenal. “I bet your schtick works on all the girls.”
“I don’t care about all the girls. Just one.”
Oh, my-oh, my-oh, my.
Her pulse quickened. How she wanted the feelings blossoming inside of her to be real and for him to be the kind of man the Harvard tenure review committee wouldn’t look down upon. How could they find fault in a hardworking, blue collar man? If only he didn’t exude the kind of confidence she’d come to expect from wealthy, successful men who craved the spotlight. “Are you calling to let me know you found your gift?” His purpose in life.
“Not exactly.” Was that regret in his voice? It must hurt to be cast out by his father the way he’d been. “I’ve spent the past few hours thinking about how I could make you smile more. Flowers seem too cliché. Candlelight dinners seem too boring. And—”
“I meant, did you find a purpose your father would approve of?” Because she was certain his father wouldn’t accept Chuck back into the fold with a life goal of making Violet smile more. And she wanted Chuck to be happy.
Isn’t that what couples want for each other? Happiness?
Violet bit her lip and cautioned herself to slow down. Way, way down.
“I like to work,” Chuck deadpanned.
“You say that as if it’s a surprise to you. Everybody works.”
“I like to work with horses,” he said quickly. “And if I could get paid for it, I like to talk to you about Shakespeare.”
“Such a flatterer.” She enjoyed talking to him about the old bard, too.
“Yes, that’s me. Yancy was swayed by my praise earlier.” His voice was rich and tempting. “The mare nibbled at my ear after our ride. The flirt.”
The flirt…
The words struck Violet sharply, resounding with danger instead of romantic tease. “Are you ever serious?” Could he ever be?
The line went silent for more than a little while and Vi hated it. She hated that she couldn’t just enjoy a light flirtation for what it was. She stared at the framed picture hanging near her bedroom door—a field of yellow sunflowers raised to the afternoon sun.
She felt like those sunflowers when he was around, lifting her face to bask in the warmth of his attention.
Chuck sighed heavily. “I thought I was serious today, when we talked about my father.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right.”Please don’t hang up.
And also, please don’t hurt me.
But Vi knew the only way to protect herself was to put up her guard.
“I take it you don’t like it when I make you smile, Vivi.”
Oh, she liked it. She liked it too much. “Shakespeare…”
“I like it when you call me Shakespeare.” Some of the playfulness returned to his tone.
It was her turn to smile. And yet… “Shakespeare…” It had to be said. “This can’t happen, not long-term.”
“Because we’re from two different worlds?” There was an edge to his question.
“No. Because my life is in Boston and my time is taken up by my work.” That was a convenient excuse. “I have one shot at tenure at Harvard. The next few months are critical for me. And along you come with your steamy looks…”
You could ruin everything.
“You’re driven and settled,” he said slowly. “And maybe that’s what I like about you. Other women look at me as if I’m a specialty chocolate they want to hoard. You look at me as if I’m a man you can’t figure out but want to.”
She laughed, glad to return to safer waters. “That much is true.”
