“Thanks, babe, but you already gave me the dress.”
“Which is no good now.” He pushed the box into my fist. “Go on. Open it.”
He stared at me expectantly as I lifted the lid of the box. A gasp escaped my mouth as I took in the pair of diamond baguette earrings set in white gold. The diamonds were at least a carat each. “Oh. My. God. These are…beautiful.” I touched them with the tip of my finger. “And obnoxiously expensive.”
He looked at me, perplexed. “You like them or not?”
“I love them.” I leaned into his arms. “They’re just too much. You don’t have to get me stuff, you know?”
He took my hand and planted a kiss inside my palm. “I wanted to. I wanna do all sorts of clichéd romantic gestures with you. All the time.” His gaze lingered on the abandoned bouquet on the floor. “Unfortunately, you’re not the kinda girl that likes…romance.”
I blinked. “I didn’t know you were romantic. Like really romantic.”
“Guilty.” His shoulders lifted with a shrug. “My movies rubbed off on me.”
“Okay. That’s new info. I-I can be romantic.” I labored a smile, feeling his disappointment. He hadn’t had a girlfriend in eight years, and now all he got was me, a girl who hated shopping, flowers, accessories and fancy restaurants, and couldn’t care less about his entire list of romantic movies.
He laughed. “No, you can’t. You’re super smart, but you’re romantically…slow.”
I grimaced. “Don’t give up on me. I can try.”
“Vita mia, thank you. Saying this alone is romantic enough.” He brought my fingers to his lips. “But I don’t want you to be anything you’re not. Not even for me.”
A warm feeling folded my heart, sending a genuine smile on my mouth.
“I can be romantic for the both of us. All I ask is that you let me,” he said.
“Okay. I can do that… I guess. Just out of curiosity, what gestures do you have in mind?”
“Buying you flowers on the way home…” he started.
I should have just taken the goddamn flowers and thanked him. But, like he said, I didn’t want to pretend or be someone I was not. Now that I, finally, could be myself. With him.
“Texting you that I love you anytime, that includes mornings whenIwake up,” he continued. “Breakfast in bed. Taking you to the movies. Candlelit dinners. Holding your hands in public. Dates on private boats. Dates on private islands. Making love under the stars. Surprises of all kinds including very expensive gifts for no particular occasions.”
I fanned myself, dazed. “That’s…a lot, and mostly can only be done if people know about us.”
“You asked me what I had in mind.”
“You know you’re gonna have to wait like a year to do these things.”
“Don’t remind me,” he muttered.
I turned, placing the box on the nightstand. Then I looked at him over my shoulder. “But I kinda…like…what you said you’d do.”
His eyes sparkled. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying…I want…all these things. And bywantI mean I can’t wait.” I bit my lip. “So, maybe, we do it afterBlack Sheep?”
He cracked a surprised laugh, crawling to my side. “Yes.” He gave me a kiss that made me dizzy. “Yes, Maggie. I was going to ask you, to beg you, to do just that. Grazie mille, amore. I can’t wait for it to happen, too.”
“So maybe we can, for the time being, practice some of these yucky, disgusting romantic things. You know, so I can get used to them and not freak out?” I might not be who he needed, but I’d die trying.
“We totally should.” He handed me the second box. “Happy anniversary, Carolina.”
“That was creepy fast.” I raised my brows, glancing at the bigger velvet box. “What anniversary? We’ve been together for a week.”
“Yeah. Our one week anniversary. Open it, please,” he urged.
