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He shot her a cheeky grin. “She’s my cousin Colin’s kid.”
Erin lifted the lid of the basket and he swatted her hand away. “No peeking.”
“Where are we going?”
“Back to your place.”
“Oh. I thought… Why did you have me get dressed up?”
“Because we’re celebrating.” He turned onto Main Street and focused on the road. “I screwed up. I shouldn’t have gotten upset about missing your birthday. I overreacted.”
He was apologizing to her? “Giovanni, it’s not your fault. I would have told you, but I didn’t want you to feel obligated to do something. We’re still new.”
He sent her a sidelong glance. “I would have done something because I wanted to. Not because of any sense of obligation.”
“My birthday’s never been a big deal.” She never even blew out candles or opened presents. It used to upset her, but now she just thought of it as another day.
“I sort of figured that out.” He turned onto her street. “My head’s been up my ass. When I realized I was being a stubborn idiot, I wanted to call, but then I realized it was Valentine’s Day, so I figured we’d do something special and I’d take you out, but everywhere I checked was booked.” He glanced at the basket. “This is the best I could come up with.”
“This is better.”
“You don’t even know what’s in the basket.”
“I don’t need to know. This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me on Valentine’s Day.” Or any day.
He smiled. “If we keep the bar that low, I’m gonna look real good by morning.”
When they returned to the house, he carried the basket inside and asked her to put on some music. “Something romantic,” he said as if she knew where to look for that.
She picked a station called Rat Pack Classics and connected her Bluetooth to her speakers. Sammy Davis Junior crooned and she guessed that might be considered romantic. “Is this oka?—”
Her words cut off as she entered the living room. A blanket covered the newly finished floors, rose petals sprinkled the room. Two taper candles burned beside a silver ice bucket where a bottle of champagne chilled.
“Oh my God…” She stared at the romantic spread, lowering to the blanket, her legs no longer sturdy.
“You like?”
“I love.”
He reached into the basket. “I wanted to cook for you, so I gave Nona the night off. I hope you like peanut butter and jelly.”
He handed her a sandwich, wrapped in a plastic lunch bag. She sniffed it and smiled. “It smells like school.”
He smelled his sandwich. “I guess it does, a little.” He withdrew two coffee mugs and poured her a glass of champagne. “This is the new trend. Everyone’s doing it.”
She accepted her mug and he clanked his to hers. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Erin.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
The bubbles fizzed on her tongue and she giggled, loving the sharp flavor that went right to her head. He watched her nibble her sandwich, refilling her champagne mug before it ever had a chance to fully empty.
“I missed you,” he told her again, and it worried her how much she liked knowing that someone cared enough to miss her, how he thought about her when she wasn’t around.
Setting down her sandwich on a napkin, she leaned forward on her hands and knees and kissed him. “I missed you, too.”
He studied her, and she sat back, trying to not freak out or second guess what he might be thinking.
“I have something else for you.” He reached into the basket.
