All's Fair in Love and Chocolate (Marietta Chocolate Wars #1) - Amy Andrews Page 0,51
her. “I’ll talk to her.”
“What?” Viv stood straighter this time. “No. It’s fine.” The last thing she wanted Gaylene to think was that Viv had complained to Reuben. “Really. I think it’s nice that she had your back like that.”
“I’m thirty years old, Vivian. I don’t need my mommy to have my back.”
Viv shrugged. “I guess that kinda thing is hard to switch off.”
He huffed out a breath, clearly annoyed, but went back to staring into his mug as he stirred his milk. Viv followed suit for a few more seconds before Reuben glanced up again. “My heart’s going to be fine, you know.”
“I know.” Viv nodded, ignoring Gaylene’s nagging assertion that she’d never seen her son look at another woman the way he looked at her.
“Do you?” His brows shot up as he searched her face earnestly. “Because I meant what I said when I swore on my deputy’s badge that night.”
“I know.”
“Nobody needs to worry about my heart,” he reiterated.
It was encouraging to hear that Reuben was still on the same page. Even if a tiny piece of her wished he wasn’t quite so damn emphatic about it. Because the longer they did this she wasn’t entirely sure her heart would get out unscathed. Oh, she was leaving, for sure but this might be the first time she was nursing some emotional bumps and bruises.
“Check.” Viv smiled at him then because he’d gotten a little tense and as much as his abs looked awesome all puckered into little pillows like that, the day had been too good to end with any kind of tension. “So…let’s talk about something else.”
“Oh yeah?” He dropped his attention back to his drink. “Like what?”
Viv grinned. “Like losing your virginity in your cousin’s barn.” She’d been dying to hear about that ever since Stephen had spilled the beans.
He groaned. “I’m going to kill Stephen.”
“No way. I thought it was hilarious.” She laughed. “So, come on, talk. Who was it? How old were you?”
He feigned a superior expression as he shook his head. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”
Viv smiled at his chivalry—she wouldn’t have expected anything less from him. Then she leaned in and murmured, “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” against the hollow at the base of his throat.
A kind of a half sigh, half groan fell from his lips and Viv smiled. “I was almost nineteen,” he said. “Just before I left for the academy. She was a twenty-two-year-old childcare worked from Canada who was working up at Bridger Bowl for the ski season.”
“Oooh. An older woman.”
“Well…one of us had to know what we were doing.”
“Oh come on.” Viv laughed as she nuzzled his throat again. “You look like you were born knowing what to do.”
His deep chuckle buzzed against Viv’s lips. “I assure you, I was not. I was trying really hard to make a good impression but basically I was just pathetically grateful and overly eager. But she was patient and I take instruction well.” He angled his neck as Viv’s lips teased higher, his spare hand sliding onto her hip. “What about you?”
Pulling back a little, Viv’s gaze met his. “I’m afraid I’m the full cliché. Lost it at seventeen on prom night in a seedy motel out on the interstate.”
He frowned, his expression both concerned and annoyed. “Your date pressured you?”
Viv pressed her lips together trying not to laugh because his concern was both sweet and kinda hot. “Hell no. I booked the room three days prior. I bought the condoms. And because I didn’t have a boyfriend, I asked the jock with the biggest man whore rep in the whole senior class to take me.”
She hadn’t been sure Calvin would say yes—even back in high school she’d been curvy and his tastes had always run to cheerleader. But he was a boob man and Viv had worked that angle for all it was worth.
If anything, Reuben looked more confused. “Why on earth did you want a man whore?”
“Because I figured he’d be up for popping my cherry without remorse or declarations of undying love. Like all things about my life at that stage, I was in a hurry to start living. I just wanted it gone. Like I wanted to be gone from Kearney and the motel and all the middle-class expectations about staying close to home and family. I didn’t want love. It was a…transaction.” She dropped her gaze. “I realize that doesn’t exactly color me in glory but it’s the truth.”