Page 159 of Masters of Control

“I would love to be your Valentine,” she said immediately. “I was hoping we could spend the evening together. I was going to bring it up tonight.”

Freddy brightened, sitting straight up again and meeting her gaze. Morgan made a little happy noise as she watched the two of them, and both Olivia and Julie were radiating approval. Nosy Nellies.

“You were?”

“I was. Though I was thinking more about staying in. Going out on Valentine’s Day always seemed kind of… hellish to me.” The big romance day was always way too hectic with too many people out and about. It didn’t feel romantic to her at that point, it felt like a hassle. Though at Marquis, things would be different, but she still wasn’t sure she wanted to be out at all. She didn’t want to disappoint Freddy, though, after he’d been so thoughtful.

“It’s fine. We can stay in. I’ll cook for you.” He beamed at her, his gaze losing some of its focus, as if he was already starting to plan out the menu in his head.

“That sounds perfect.”

Not caring about their audience, she leaned over to plan a kiss on his lips, ignoring the various sounds of approval from everyone. Their approval didn’t matter, but it wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about. Their friends were happy for them, and that added to her joy.

It was a damn good day.

Chapter Thirty

Freddy

Fretting over a menu wasn’t the norm for Freddy. He liked to consider himself a pretty decisive person. Right now? He was worried he’d chosen all wrong. Sure, he’d gone over Camille’s likes and dislikes with her, but that didn’t assuage his anxiety. Why he was stressing so badly he didn’t know… maybe the pressure of Valentine’s Day.

Which was silly. It was a day like any other day.

Yet here he was.

“Something smells amazing,” Camille called from his living room. She’d come over a little early, and he hadn’t been quite ready yet. Since he’d wanted to surprise her with the food, she’d been happy to hang out in front of his television with a glass of wine. Work had been a little stressful for her since she’d turned in her resignation—she was getting pressure from the partners to change her mind—but she didn’t seem to mind. Knowing she was getting out of there had made her happier than ever, and it showed.

“Hopefully, it tastes amazing,” he joked, except he wasn’t really joking.

It was too late to change up the whole menu. Sighing, he quickly plated the steaks, oven roasted potatoes, and green beans as artistically as he could. He liked a good presentation. The steak was perfectly cooked, and he’d fanned out thin slices of it atop the potatoes and green beans to show off the perfectly pink centers, though he did cover it up a little when he dripped the red wine reduction sauce over it.

Taking a plate in each hand, he moved to the dining room, where he already had the table set, complete with candles. Since it was Valentine’s Day, he’d gone with a red theme—dark red place mats and matching napkins with gold rings and red and gold candles in gold holders. It was really very pretty.

The dining room was open to the television room, unlike the kitchen. Camille looked over as soon as he came into sight, and her smile lit up both rooms. She looked stunning in a creamy pink silk blouse, unbuttoned to show a generous amount of cleavage once she’d gotten in his home. It had been fully buttoned up when she was at work.

Obviously, he liked it better this way.

“Mmm, it looks amazing,” she said as she set her wineglass down and slid into her seat. She smiled up at him. “Everything looks amazing. This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me, including the part where you agreed to stay in. Thank you.”

The heartfelt warmth in her voice satisfied every little needy part of him, even the part that was worried about whether or not she would like the food. Regardless of if she did, she was clearly very happy with his efforts, and appreciative, and it made her feel good, which was all he wanted.

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied honestly, placing the plates down in their respective places. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” As soon as the plates were on the table, she reached up to grab hold of his collar and pull him down for a kiss. He went eagerly, meeting her lips with his, marveling at the sparks that flew as their lips touched. Everything with Camille got better and better every day.

When the kiss ended, her dark eyes were sparkling.

“We’d better eat, or we might never get around to dinner,” she teased.

“You’re not wrong.”

The little noises of happiness she made as she tasted the food made his heart swell. He didn’t need to worry about whether she liked it. She loved the meal.

“Everything is so good. What on earth did you put on these potatoes?”

“They’re easy.” He shrugged nonchalantly even as his chest puffed up with pride. “Just cut the potatoes up, toss them in olive oil, salt, pepper, rosemary, thyme, and dried minced garlic and onion, then throw them in the oven for half an hour at four twenty-five. They get all crispy and the seasonings adds to that.”

“They’re so good. I can’t decide if I like them better with or without the sauce, and I am really loving the sauce, so that’s saying something.”