The woman laughed as she drew a few long-stemmed orange snapdragons from a bucket of water. “Not at all. These will do for those inappropriate thoughts,” she added with a wink. “And I think hydrangeas for your heartfelt actions today on behalf of your wife, then some gladiolus for strength. Finally, tulips. Yes, you have to have tulips.”
“Tulips? What are tulips for?” Vincent asked, fascinated listening to the woman talk about each flower and what they symbolized.
The women picked out some orange tulips to go with the snapdragons and offset the white hydrangeas and vibrant gladiolus. “Tulips stand for only one thing. Love—the love I can see in your eyes right now as you talk about her.”
“Love? Well, of course,” Vincent said hurriedly when the woman eyed him funny.
Love. She saw love in his eyes for Natalie? The florist arranged the bouquet in a beautiful arrangement and wrapped it in paper, finishing it off with an orange ribbon. He handed over his card as she rang it up, while Vincent thought this woman—a stranger—was right. In the short amount of time he’d been with Natalie, he thought of her constantly and ached to feel her touch, even if it was only a brush of his hand against hers. His drive to get through the day was to get home to see her smiling face and hear her laughter as they talked and joked about Billy’s freak outs over the campaign, or her catching him up on what her identical twin was doing with her own wedding plans. Vincent hadn’t met her yet, but Natalie told her he could when she stopped thinking he hated her for what the sisters did to him.
“Here you are, sir,” the florist said. “I hope she likes them.”
“I’m sure she will. Thank you for your help.”
He took the bouquet gently in his hands and walked to the truck parked outside. When he reached the house and parked, he heard music blaring inside before he even opened the door. Grinning, he poked his head inside and paused to watch as Natalie swept her way around the kitchen, using the handle as a mic, though her lips only moved to the words. She shimmied in those damn short shorts she wore constantly and the sweatshirt he had declared her favorite. His smile faltered as he realized now why she wore such conservative tops and wished she was more comfortable with herself to show those scars.
Natalie spun around and staggered to a stop, laughing hysterically when she spotted him. She drew the remote from her back pocket and shut off the speakers. “You were not supposed to be home yet,” she pointed out.
“I thought I would surprise you.” He beamed as he revealed the bouquet to her.
Her eyes lit up instantly, and she bounced on the balls of her feet like she did every time something excited her. Last night, it was when she found a Star Trek marathon on TV and forced him to sit down and watch. After the first two episodes, he was laughing so hard his sides hurt. She recited nearly every line perfectly.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispered, taking the bouquet from him. She reached around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. What are they for?”
“Just because,” he said, his chest swelling with the love he knew he couldn’t deny any longer.
She found a vase in one of the cabinets and rested the bouquet in it, setting it in the center of the kitchen table. The sight of flowers he bought for his wife on his kitchen table did something to Vincent he hadn’t expected. The loneliness that had occupied his mind for so many years vanished in a flash, and he imagined the two of them sitting at that table every night for dinner. He pictured a child, maybe more, surrounding them, and friends and family. He saw their potential lives together pass right in front of his eyes and there wasn’t a chance in hell he would let this opportunity slip from his grasp. He needed to know everything about this woman, and he was more than willing to take a lifetime learning from her.
For now, he hoped she would grace him with some answers.
“Mother and a date are going to join us for dinner tomorrow night,” he said as he followed her to the kitchen island.
“Oh, good. I’ll have to order a few extra things from the store.”
“Order?” he asked, frowning.
“Yeah. I hope you don’t mind. I had some groceries delivered this morning.”
“I have food in the house,” he grumbled as he pulled the fridge open. “Well, shit, I thought I had food in the house. Are you sure you bought enough?” he teased, looking over the shelves fully stocked with fresh produce and condiments he hadn’t even heard of. He checked the freezer next and his mouth watered immediately at the sight of the steaks stacked high. The pantry also brimmed with groceries. “Okay, I lied. I thought I had food in the house.”
“You had bachelor food, and as much as I like frozen pizza,” she said, hip-checking him as she passed to grab a cookbook by the stove, “a girl likes to change things up every now and then.”
He watched her flip through the cookbook, humming the theme to Star Trek under her breath the whole time. “You know you don’t have to do all this cooking, really.”
“And I told you I don’t mind. I’m off for the summer, remember? No classes.”
“What did you teach anyway? I never asked and I’m, uh, I’m sorry for that.”
She threw him a smirk before she picked up the cookbook and rummaged through the pantry, drawing out different ingredients and lining them up on the counter. “I teach astronomy and physics, and every now and then, I do a lecture course on current topics revolving around anything to do with space. All beginner courses, really. I can’t do much else with only a Masters.”
“But you graduated with honors, didn’t you?” he asked then glanced away when she shot him a look, one eyebrow arched.
“I did. You’ve done some research.”
“Billy might have looked up a few things. You can’t really blame him.”
“No. No, I can’t and I don’t. Yes, I graduated with honors, but that doesn’t count for shit when people assume you can’t work as well as everyone else can,” she snapped bitterly and shook her head. Her body stiffened and she chewed on her bottom lip, staring blankly at the cookbook in her hands. “Sorry, touchy subject.”
“Natalie?”
“Huh? Sorry, just…ah, I don’t always talk about what happened.”
“What did happen?” he asked softly. “You can tell me. I’m here for you, remember?”
She set the cookbook down and rested her hands on the counter, hunching over the book as she scrunched her eyes closed. He rested a hand over hers, and she laced her fingers around his. “After the accident, with the memory issues, I was told I wouldn’t be able to finish my Masters. I proved them all wrong, of course, but there were some issues. I saw them along with the other professors and my fellow students.”
“You never tried to get your PhD?”
Her laughter was harsh. “It’s hard to do that when no one will accept you and you can’t get an internship anywhere, either. No one thought I could do it, so I settled for the only job I was offered by the same college I attended before heading to a four-year school.”
“And the cooking you’re doing?” he asked, curious when she had time to take culinary lessons.
“Oh, I learned that last week.”
Vincent had to have heard her wrong. “I’m sorry, you did what?”
“I had nothing else to do, so I picked up a few cookbooks from the library and taught myself a thing or two.” She patted his hand. “I can be quite intelligent when my brain decides to cooperate with me.”
He should have brought her a second bouquet of flowers. This woman was incredible. When everyone told her she wouldn’t be able to do something, she basically told them to shove it and did it anyway. “When did you decide to lock yourself away in your apartment?”
The seasoning in her hand clattered to the floor, and he bent to pick it up, catching her shaking hand on his way back up. Her face paled and her jaw tensed so hard, it was a wonder she didn’t crack her teeth. “That came…uh, that came later.”
Vincent tucked the errant strands of hair behind her ears and tilted her chin up so she faced him when she tried to turn away. “What happened?”
“It’s stupid, really.”
“I have a feeling it’s not. Talk to me, please?”
She sighed, and to his surprise, she rested her forehead against his shoulder. “The accident nearly killed me, and while I recovered, my friends were there, my fellow classmates. They came to cheer me on, and I thought I could go back to living a normal life. But between the memory issues, my horrible fear of any moving vehicle, and the…the burns that disfigured my back, I wasn’t good company.”
“According to who?” he asked, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
“A few bitch girls I never liked before, and a guy…or several. They all knew about the accident and wanted me to get over it, to move on.” She pulled back from him, wiping at her face, and sniffed hard. “It doesn’t matter. They were right.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.”
“Is it? You haven’t seen the scars, Vincent. I look like something Frankenstein put together on his off day.” Tears flowed over and slipped down her cheeks as she backed away from him. “I went from being the fun, carefree Natalie to the forgetful, untouchable freak.”
She turned her back to him, hugging her arms close around her body as she cursed under her breath. Vincent reached out to draw her into his arms, but his hands fell inches away from her.
“They shouldn’t have done that to you.”
“No,” she argued as she turned around, her eyes red and puffy. “You know how hard it is to hang out with friends whose names you can’t always remember? Or you can’t go anywhere with? You know, my sister was never the one who wanted hiking or fishing.”
“No?”
“No, that was always me. I loved being outside, finding a new adventure every week.” She rubbed her hands over her face, staring out the window. He knew she saw something very different from his backyard. “Funny how one shitty night can change your entire life.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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