I don’t say all of that, though. I just say, “I just want to take things slow with you. It’s important that I don’t mess things up.” Holding her gaze, I add, “You’retoo important to mess things up with.”
Vienna’s eyes widen. “Oh.” A slow smile curves her lips. “I guess that’s okay, then.”
Feeling a little unsettled by the intensity of emotion I’m feeling, I shift my attention from her to the empty plates on the coffee table. Two glasses are set beside them, the soda inside watered down from the melted ice. A couple of napkins sit crumpled off to the side.
“Do you want any more pizza?” I ask. “A refill on soda? Something for dessert?”
Vienna looks a little startled by my abrupt change of subject, but she quickly covers it. “I’m good,” she replies. Patting her stomach, she adds, “I can’t believe I ate that much pizza.”
“Well, it’s been a stressful—” I cut myself off as I realize it’s probably not a good idea to bring up all the shitty stuff that’s happened when it’s taken all day for Vienna to finally relax. “It’s good pizza,” I add as an alternative. “Mariano’s is one of the reasons I was looking forward to coming back to Bliss.”
“Itisgood pizza,” she agrees. Turning on my lap so she’s sideways across it, she loops her arm around my shoulder. “Mariano’s has been around for a long time, then?”
I nod. “As long as I can remember. It’s family-run. The grandkids are in charge of it now. But when I was a kid, it was Mariano himself working the pizza oven.”
A thoughtful expression moves across Vienna’s face. “I like that. Businesses that carry on from generation to generation. It seems like that happens a lot in small towns.”
“I guess it does. Mariano’s, Breakfast Bliss, Rossi’s Outfitters—that’s Enzo’s store—Ellicott’s… They’re all family-run. Or they were passed down from the older generation to the younger.”
At the mention of Max’s shop, I add, “That reminds me. We should be able to pick up your loaner car tomorrow. If you’re up for going.”
Concern etches across her forehead again. “Are you sure? The insurance company hasn’t approved a rental yet. And I can’t afford?—”
I silence her with a quick kiss. “I’m sure. I talked to Max. He’s got some extra cars sitting around, so it’s not a big deal for you to borrow one. If insurance covers it, great. If not, that’s okay, too.”
“You’re sure he doesn’t mind? I mean, he doesn’t know me.”
“But he knows me,” I reply. “Ever since we were kids.”
“One of the perks of living in a small town,” Vienna remarks. “Knowing everyone.”
I wouldn’t have said that a year ago, when I thought I was happier keeping to myself. But seeing how readily the community has stepped up to help Vienna—from Max offering a loaner free-of-charge to Winter starting up a collection to replace Vienna’s belongings—it brings a fresh appreciation to living here.
“I suppose it is,” I answer. Then I kiss Vienna again. “So. Since you’re off tomorrow as well, I’m thinking we could head into town for breakfast at Delectable Delights. Get some more of those heart-shaped cookies you liked. After that, we can stop by the shelter to visit Zeus, and then swing by Max’s to pick up your car. Oh, and we need to find a clothing store for you. Winter said she’s bringing some things over, but I’m sure you’d like to have some new things of your own.”
Vienna stares at me. “Caleb. You don’t need to do all that.”
“I know I don’t need to. I want to.” Glancing over at the TV, where the credits for the movie we just watched are scrolling, I ask, “Do you want to watch another one? If you want to keep up with the Valentine’s theme, there’sSleepless in SeattleorYou’ve Got Mail. Unless you’re tired and ready?—”
From the coffee table, my phone buzzes with an incoming call.
Vienna stiffens. “Do you think it’s…”
“Maybe.” We haven’t heard from the fire investigator since he left earlier today. I wanted to press him for answers while he was here, but he was firm on following proper procedure, which meant talking to the police about his findings before reporting them to me.
Personally, I think that’s a load of shit. It’s my damn cabin, after all. I should be the first person to find out what happened to it.
Holding onto Vienna with one arm, I reach for the phone and flip it over to see the screen. It’s a local number, but not one I recognize. It could be someone else. But at almost nine o’clock at night? When my phone almost never rings unless it’s my parents? I have a feeling I know who it is.
Tapping the screen to answer it, I say, “Caleb here.”
“Caleb. It’s West Napier. Do you have a few minutes?”
My gut twists. I told Vienna I don’t care how the fire started, and I meant it. But if she finds out it really was her fault, she’s going to be crushed. She might even bring up leaving again.
My jaw clenches. No. She can’t leave. Not when I just found her.
“Yeah. I have a few minutes,” I tell him. “Hang on just a second.” Lifting Vienna off my lap, I set her to the side. Then I get up from the couch and hold the phone to my chest as I say, “It’s the Fire Chief. I’m just going to talk to him for a minute.”
