All's Fair in Love and Chocolate (Marietta Chocolate Wars #1) - Amy Andrews Page 0,61
bar. Irving Berlin’s classic tune “White Christmas” wafted into the air clear and high with a crinkly, timeless quality that harked back to the days of pianolas and smoky saloons.
The couple in the middle turned around and around, skating in circles, and Reuben watched Vivian, watched the myriad expressions flit across her face as she smiled. “It reminded me of ice-skating on Miracle Lake with you,” he said. “I thought it’d be a nice memento of your time here in Marietta.”
“Oh yes.” She dragged her eyes off the music box as the winder wound down and the couple slowed. “It’s the most perfect thing.” She slid her hand on top of his, her brown eyes dancing with pleasure. “Thank you, Reuben.” She leaned in and kissed him, her hand sliding onto his face, her fingers pushing into his hair. “It’s so…thoughtful. I will treasure it.”
Which was exactly what he’d hoped for when he’d bought it.
“Then my work here is done,” he said, keeping his voice light and teasing because his heart was filling with something heavier and more serious and they didn’t need that.
“Sir? Madam?” The bartender interrupted. “Your table is ready?”
*
Viv was eating the most divine huckleberry pie compliments of Edwin who’d found out she and Reuben were dining with them and had insisted they try his latest recipe. It hadn’t taken a lot to twist her arm and it was heavenly. Nothing but huckleberries and the most exquisite pastry.
Between the food, the company and the music box, it was shaping up to be a Christmas Eve to remember.
It was fair to say Reuben’s gift had taken her by surprise. Not what it was, although that had been an utter delight, but the fact that he’d bought her something at all. They’d talked about no Christmas presents because that kind of thing was for relationships—permanent relationships—and Viv, who knew how easy it would be to let this thing with Reuben get out of hand, needed to keep it in the neat little box they’d already established.
She’d thought they’d been on the same page.
And then the gift bag had been sitting there—the small gift bag—and she’d had this horrible feeling it was going to be jewelry, which was not okay. Anxiety had tightened her throat. A man giving a woman jewelry was loaded no matter what the status of the relationship. It had connotations—expectations—invisible strings and, for a brief moment, Viv had wanted to flee as thoughts of that other guy at her first store crowded her brain.
Not to mention how foolish she’d felt being empty-handed in the face of his gift.
But his assurances that she’d like it, his confidence that she would, had called her off the ledge. Reuben wasn’t a clueless guy so his promise that it wasn’t a Christmas gift, that he’d picked it up purely on impulse, had appeased her enough to relent.
She was glad she had because the music box was delightful. There’d been no need to fake her reaction, the craftsmanship was exquisite and she’d fallen in love with it instantly. She hadn’t lied when she’d said she’d treasure it. Watching the figures turn around and around had transported her to Miracle Lake and she knew every time she saw it in the future she’d be back to that morning on that lake with Reuben.
The fact that he’d bought it because it reminded him of the same thing gave her a funny little ache in her chest.
“You’re quiet.”
“Oh.” Viv blinked at the intrusion of Reuben’s faintly amused voice. “Sorry.” She shook her head and scraped the last morsel of the pie from the bowl into her mouth. “I was just wondering…how huckleberry hot chocolate stirrers would work for Delish?”
He chuckled. “I love how you eat, sleep, breathe chocolate.”
“Sorry,” she said with a sheepish grin, “it’s hard to turn off sometimes.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I get that.”
There was no inflection in his voice but his statement seemed loaded to Viv and, given what he did, she understood. She slid her hand across the table and placed it on his forearm. He was wearing a long-sleeved navy button-down with red stitching on the cuffs and pockets and around the buttonholes for detail.
“There are worse things to have in your head I imagine,” she murmured.
He smiled at her as he placed his hand over top of hers and for long moments they just stared at each other, the peppy tune of “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” playing low in the background.