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“Is there a card?” I tease him, sniffing my flowers with mock drama. Trying to make light out of a bad situation. Knowing I will have to let Niles down, although I'm sure Vincent will be having his own little talk with him.
Vincent doesn’t surprise me when he pulls the card from his pocket and tears it up in front of me, “Nope.” He says with finality. Letting the colored shreds fall like confetti before hooking his arm around me and walking me to his car.
“Let’s get you home… Maybe a night inourbed will show you just once and for all exactly where you belong from now on.” He croons. Instantly forgiving me for having a secret admirer of my own. And only because he knows I could never look at another man except him.
My hero now. And the only man I know I’ll ever need. Already so in love with him it hurts.
* * *
Not to be outdone,Vincent spoils me to the point of disbelief when the morning after a night I’ll never forget in our bed. Letting me sleep late again, there’s a steady stream of florists and deliveries that seems to last most of the day.
All for me. And all of it screaming just how crazy Vincent is.
Crazy about me that is.
More flowers than I’ve ever seen fill the house, and once he’s made it clearer than ever that I’mhisValentine, now and always. Once he tells me for the twentieth time that this is my home now and that all I have to do is ask if I want anything.
Well. I can’t help but tell him.
“I- I love you, Vincent…” I hear myself say. My voice full of the emotions I’ve given over to.
He look impassively at me, almost making me wonder if it's not too soon, or maybe just the last thing he wants to her.
“I know you do.” He says flatly. Making me screw my face up but letting me off the hook just as quickly when he smiles. Leaning down to kiss me.
Whispering it straight back to me before he presses his lips to mine.
“I love you too, Violet. And I’ll never get tired of saying it or showing it.”
He showers me with food and kisses, a little more lovemaking after an attempt at a massage before he runs a hot bath. Doing everything a man his size and caliber would never be caught doing unless he really was in love.
He washes my hair and dries me off, asking if I have enough left to go out to dinner.
“Like on a date, in public?” I ask, already trying to decide what to wear. But Vincent explains he already has everything ready.
“All you have to do is say yes,” he smiles, making me shrug with agreement because I know already that trying to argue with him when he has his mind set on something is useless.
Like everything else so far, a romantic dinner with just him and me is like a dream come true. But my girlish nerves and shyness have given way to feeling more myself now I know he’s not letting me go.
He seems confident, almost cocky as he brings out the dress he's chosen for me to wear. The only thing I don't like so far is that every little thing he picks out for me is way better than anything I could come up with myself. Mostly because I don't have that kind of money.
But even once I’m dressed up, pretending like I know the name of the restaurant he's made reservations at. Even once we’re on our way after the best day of my life, he still seems a little nervous.
Instantly making me wonder if he isn't having second thoughts of his own.
I mean, I have been saying ‘daddy’ a little too much, but only when he really squeezes it out of me. Just something about the way he affects me whenever we’re in bed, or when he’s looking particularly Professorly and handsome.
I guess I can't help it.
My own nerves return once I learn the hard way about five star dining in a dress that's worth more than I see in a year. But Vincent’s very patient. Ignoring the curious glances we get from fellow diners.
But surprising me most of all by not growling at anyone and not grabbing anyone who happens to look my way by the throat.
There’s something eating at him though. I’ve never seen him like this. I ask if he's okay a half a dozen times. And before our first course even arrives, he looks like a man about to come undone unless he gets something off his chest.
And out of his pocket.
I can’t help but gasp when I see the white velvet box, but it’s the look in his eyes that undoes me completely. Even before he says a word.
