“Okay, almost ready.”
They had fifteen minutes to get from the cottage to the restaurant, and even though it was close, he didn’t want to take any chances on missing the reservation. He’d had to promise everything but his kidney to get a table this late.
When he’d phoned The Wayfarer earlier that day, the host who’d answered told him three times that they were fully booked for Valentine’s Day and had been since November. So, he’d reached out to Cheryl at the clothing shop to ask for another recommendation, and she’d told him not to worry.
Twenty minutes later, Maurice, the owner of The Wayfarer, called and said a table for two by the window had come up.
Now Jordan sat on the couch, surrounded by the scent of the vanilla and lavender candle Vanessa had bought. He petted Nigel, resisting the urge to tap his foot anxiously like an old man waiting for his wife to get ready for Sunday church.
“How do I look?” Vanessa’s voice floated through the air.
His jaw dropped.
She was stunning. No, more than that.Enthralling.
In the living room’s soft, flickering candlelight, the blue dress looked otherworldly. Her hair was swept up from her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and the slim column of her neck.
Her shoulders were smooth, bare, and the scoop of the neckline much lower than he remembered in the shop. Her skin glowed. She was like a painting come to life. A vision. An angel, who knew how to bring a man to his knees with a single glance.
He attempted to swallow, but his tongue jammed in his throat, resulting in a choking noise that he tried to muffle with a fist to the mouth. “You look—” It took him a moment to find the right word. “Breathtaking.”
She blushed, and he fucking loved it. When she blushed like this, just for him, he could stare at her for hours. There was nothing more beautiful in the entire world than Vanessa Barone blushing.
Her gaze lowered, a shy smile curving her lips, and he remembered what he had for her. Reaching down to the coffee table, he picked up a clear plastic box and made his way to her.
“What are you doing?” Her tone was suspicious, but the gleam in her eye was of pure delight as she stared at the box.
“I’m doing what I would do if you were mine, princess.” He brought her hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it, then held out the box.
“Is that a corsage?” She gasped lightly when he opened the lid, revealing a single rose, the same blue color as her dress, nestled in baby’s breath and a white silk ribbon. “Jordan, it’s beautiful.”
He knew she was talking about the corsage, but he hadn’t stopped watching her since she’d entered the room, even when he said, “Yes. It is.”
Setting the box down, he secured the rose around her slim wrist. “We won’t be here much longer, so I didn’t see the point in getting a big bouquet you wouldn’t have time toenjoy. Also, the lady at the flower shop suggested this, and I thought it was nice.”
“It’s gorgeous. I remember my sister got one from her prom date.”
Her index finger stroked one of the rose’s velvety petals, and he followed the slow, delicate movement.
“I never went to my senior prom.” She turned her wrist, admiring the arrangement from all angles. A wistful expression crossed her face, making him wonder if she regretted not going. She’d traveled to New York at sixteen, so she would’ve missed a lot of typical teenage milestones.
“I’ve never been to a prom either,” he murmured. He’d dropped out of high school halfway through junior year, at which point he’d fully immersed himself in the gang.
Her gaze lifted to meet his, a smile spreading across her lips. “Something else we have in common.”
“Yes, except you were chasing a dream. I chose a nightmare.”
No matter how she tried to spin it, they were not the same. She was precious, resilient, vibrant in all the ways he was dark and brooding. There was no comparison.
“Come on. Let’s not be late for our reservation.”
Outside the cottage, a black SUV waited for them. Knowing she’d be in a dress, he’d ordered a car.
At the restaurant, they were led to a candlelit table by a window overlooking the ocean. Jordan pulled out her chair before taking his own across from her. The table wasn’t big, so their knees almost touched. The darkness outside muted the view, but the ambiance inside was romantic. His heart raced nervously.
This place was classy, in a charming small-town kind of way, but it was a far cry from the fancy restaurants he imagined she’d spent most Valentine’s at. What if?—
“I love this place.” Her whispered declaration eased the knot in his gut. “Have you been here before?”
