“Sure,” she replies immediately and I smile at her, unable to keep my cool. Her quick response fills my chest with hope all over again.
“Come on.” I tuck the sandwich back under my arm and lead her into the house. “Hold on just a minute,” I tell her and redirect my attention to the flooring. I check the numbers and cross-reference them with the order sheet on my clipboard and see they match the numbers ordered to the numbers on the slabs of flooring on the ground.
I talk with the flooring manager and direct where I think they should start. We go over what needs done and I finally send them on their way.
“Come on,” I say to Viv and she’s staring at me with pride. “What is it?” I ask, my lips spreading into a smile at the look on her face.
“Nothing, just, I guess I didn’t realize what all went into this.”
Her words surprise me, and Enzo’s words filter through my mind. Maybe he was right. Maybe I should have shared how much I do with her and let her into my world, maybe if she knew what I did, if she knew how much time went into this, she would be more understanding when shit blew up in my face.
That didn’t excuse ditching her for drinks with Henry Blake though. That one was my fucking fault.
I lead her through the house, showing her what we’re doing and how it should look when we’re done. I show her pictures on my phone of the final items that will go in certain places and she tells me what she thinks.
When we get to the kitchen, and she sees the large windows, she smiles. “I love this.”
“Yeah?” I take her in and watch her wander around the kitchen. It’s nearly done except for flooring and the counters are still taped, so you can’t see what they look like.
“Yeah, except…” She hums, turning in the space.
I have this weird flash of her spinning around in our kitchen. Someday in the future, I want to give her a home like this one.
Unfortunately, that’s far away. At least, the house part. I’m hoping the “us being together” part is in the near future.
“Except what?” I prompt when she goes quiet.
“I would make this”—she points to the wall of windows—“go out. I would make a whole room of windows that I could use as a greenhouse of sorts.”
I nod and look at what she’s saying, mentally taking notes. “That’s a good idea.”
“Can you imagine?” She laughs at herself. “Just being able to go right out here and picking fresh herbs to cook with.”
“That would be really cool,” I agree with her and step into the kitchen.
She sighs and says, “I think owning my own home is kind of far off.”
I shrug and say, “It’ll happen someday.”
Biting her lip, she says, “Yeah.”
We stand there in the kitchen, staring at each other. She wrings her hands together nervously. She looks like she wants to say something but when she opens her mouth, nothing comes out, and I really don’t want to push her. “Uh, I actually should get going. Back to work.” She stumbles over her words and I follow as she makes her way out of the house. My heart aches to see her go, but I know I’m not giving up, so I let her go.
“Thanks for lunch,” I say, and she turns, giving me a smile as she walks backward toward her car.
“Anytime.”
I beam at the word and watch her drive away. Anytime? I’m holding her to that.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Men love to be in control. That’s why we always let them think they’re in control. It creates a nice balance and helps us woman not lose our ever-loving minds.” – Abigail
VIVIANA
I’m staring at the bouquet of flowers that adorn my desk in wonder. Wonder at how he manages to send me the most beautiful bouquets, wonder at how I could have given up on him when I did, and wondering when I’ll be able to fully make things right again.
I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to give him what he needed in a partner. I was still beating myself up over that.