The Aristocrat

I nodded. “I’ve been thinking about you, too.”

“You have?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“I’ve spent the past two weeks doing nothing but painting with Bob Ross and eating saltwater taffy.”

“Bob Ross?” I laughed. “What?”

“Don’t ask.” He shook his head. “And I don’t think I actually like taffy, either. But it was better than drinking, or worse, getting in the boat and crossing the bay to make a fool of myself by begging you every day to reconsider spending the summer with me. So I opted not to, only to make a bigger fool of myself in this carpark the first chance I got.”

I was just as much to blame for the PDA fest that just happened. But how was I supposed to go on my merry way now and forget about him after that kiss?

His eyes seared into mine. “Tell me what to do, because I don’t want to leave you right now.”

I knew I’d live to regret the words I uttered next. “Do you like cake?”

His mouth curved into a smile. “Only white cake with whipped cream and strawberries.”

My pulse raced. “Would you want to come over tonight for Mrs. Angelini’s birthday? We were gonna order pizza, which isn’t the healthiest thing, but it’s a step up from your mac and cheese party.”

“An evening with you would be a huge step up from that.”

“Want to say seven, then?”

“What can I bring?”

“Just yourself.”

“What does Mrs. Angelini like to drink?”

“Fireball.” I laughed.

“Really? All right. I’ll pick some up.”

I nodded. “See you later.”

Just as I was opening my car door, he stopped me. “You might want to take the cake off the top of your car before you drive away.”

Shutting my eyes briefly, I cringed. “Right. That would be a great idea.”

After I got in my car, I put it in drive when I should have been reversing, nearly hitting a barrier before catching myself. Why could I never seem to drive around Leo?

He stood there smiling as he watched me take off. I had butterflies and a feeling of dread all at once. I knew this invitation meant way more than just pizza and cake. I’d officially thrown caution to the wind and invited him into my life. And before I knew it, he’d be gone just as fast as he’d entered.

The doorbell rang promptly at seven.

“There’s the aristocrat.” Mrs. Angelini smiled.

My palms were sweaty as I walked over to open the door for Leo.

Mrs. Angelini had seemed surprised that I’d invited the Brit across the bay to her birthday, but she didn’t question my sudden change of heart. I think the situation entertained her, to be honest—and that was without me divulging what had happened in the supermarket parking lot.

Leo stood behind a massive bouquet of flowers. In his other hand, he held a bottle of Fireball.

“Hey,” I said.

He moved the flowers out of the way so I could catch his beautiful smile. “Good evening, gorgeous.”

I stepped aside. “Come in.”

Mrs. Angelini came up behind me. “Hello, Leo.”

“You must be Mrs. Angelini. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Happy birthday.” He handed her the flowers and the alcohol. “These are for you.”

“Flowers and Fireball? Truly a man after my own heart. And I suspect a little bird helped you with the choice of liquor.”

“Indeed.” He smiled over at me.

“Well, that was amazingly generous. Thank you. My three favorite things start with F: flowers, Fireball, and Felicity.”

“I think we share the last one in common.” He grinned.

Damn him and his charm.

Mrs. Angelini went to put the flowers in the kitchen, leaving us alone in the living room. His eyes fell to my lips. I suspected he was still thinking about our parking lot kiss. I certainly hadn’t been able to think of much else.

The doorbell rang again, giving me a moment to escape the tension as I answered it. The pizza delivery man removed two large pies from his insulated carrier. I handed him a tip and closed the door.

“What can I do? Put me to work,” Leo said.

“Everything is all taken care of. The table is set. The pizza is hot. We can just eat. I made a salad, too.”

The three of us sat down to dinner. Despite my nerves, I had a pretty big appetite, devouring three slices of pizza and a heaping bowl of salad. The red wine I was drinking helped relax me as the evening wore on.

Leo spent a good portion of dinner answering Mrs. Angelini’s questions about England. He seemed comfortable talking to her, though I knew going into the details of his life in the aristocracy wasn’t something he loved to do. But Mrs. Angelini always made you feel like she understood where you were coming from. She never made assumptions about people just because her personal experiences were different. I think Leo could sense that about her, and it made him more comfortable.