they could watch the boys at the end of the month, bellissima?” He may as well tack on a little Italian too. Not that he knew much.
“Ah,” she said in approval. “Very nice. I like it.”
“So you can come to the gala with me?”
Viv shook her head. “Oh, I still need to ask them.”
Duke leaned a bit to catch her gaze. “Is there a reason you keep putting that off?” he asked. This wasn’t the first time he’d sensed her hesitancy where the gala was concerned.
Viv tipped her head, seeming to weigh the question. “I’m almost tempted to just…have you go with Sylvia Sampson, like your family wants.”
Duke forgot she even knew about that. He’d have preferred that Viv never discovered the option. It wasn’t anything she needed to know. Unfortunately, Vivi had been scrolling through pictures when the text came in.
Hey, it’s Sylvia. Sounds like our families want us to go to this year’s Gala together. Let’s play along.
Duke wasn’t interested. And he’d gently said so in reply right in front of Vivi. What else could he have done?
“My family only wanted that because you weren’t exactly in the picture yet. Now they want me to take whomever I’d like, of course. They’re not worried about appearances.” The moment that statement came out of his mouth, Duke second-guessed it. The truth was that both Grandma Lo and his mother were very worried about appearances. Of course, their concerns varied.
While Grandma’s main focus was upholding the Benton name with good and decent behavior—nothing underhanded or scandalous—Mom still battled the inner snob from her childhood. She’d have preferred her children married big names that elevated the family’s status even higher.
Duke shook off the thought and glanced back at Vivi. His face flushed with heat as he realized her gaze was fixed on him. As if she could read the inner workings of his mind.
“What are the chances that the exact girl you took to prom instead of me comes prancing back into your life ten years later and asks you to take her to some high profile version of that prom?”
Duke shrugged. “I don’t see why any of this makes you hedge,” he finally said. “You’re my girlfriend.”
Vivi’s full, pouty-looking lips transformed at his words. “I am?” Her cheeks went pink.
He chuckled under his breath. “Of course. Isn’t that what you’d call it?”
Viv nodded, tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and moved in to press her lips against his. A slow, teasing kiss.
Perhaps he could stay for a few minutes more.
Duke tipped his head, cradled her cheek, and gave in to another taste. And then another, drawn back in by the silky heat of her mouth. As complex as Vivi was—and guarded where her feelings were concerned—she expressed herself in their passionate exchanges in the shade. The way she’d grip the back of his neck or pull at the front of his shirt, anything to get him impossibly closer.
And for Duke, anywhere close to Viv—that had become his heaven on earth.
The art of putting things into compartments, focusing on one thing over the other, had taken root hard and fast where she was concerned. During their few hours together each day, it was easy to be present.
But even still, a part of him knew that as much as Vivi cared for him, as much as she returned his feelings, she was holding back. The situation with the gala and the twins said it all. But he wouldn’t focus on that now. Couldn’t, was more like it. For now, Duke would simply enjoy his little piece of heaven.
Viv set a freshly made sub sandwich on a sheet of butcher paper, positioning it on the top corner.
“Remind me why we’re doing it this way,” Duke said through the line.
She propped the phone to her ear and began to roll the sandwich, wrapping it as she went. “Because this way the twins won’t know we’re dating.” Viv set it in the basket, reached for the next sub, and inwardly prayed he wouldn’t push the topic.
“Why can’t you just tell them you like me and that I like you? I thought that’s what we were doing.”
Viv shook her head. Fear—hot and menacing—bubbled and swelled inside her chest. “I want to, but I think this way is better for now.”
“We’ve been together for nearly a month, Vivi. Really together.”
It was true. It was like concentrated dating. A see-each-other-every-single-day-because-we-can’t-be-apart kind of dating. But for whatever reason, that only added to her fear. “I know,”