Page 26 of Solemn Vow

“I told you; I’m done with that stuff. That’s what I was telling Jimmy yesterday.” She dips her chin when she says this, leaving me feeling less than confident that she’s telling the full truth.

She slides the dress out and holds it up.

“That’s not for you, is it?” I eye the powder blue fabric with the lace trim with hesitation. It’s not her style. She has more attitude than that dress can hold.

“No. It’s for the girl upstairs. She’s standing up in her sister’s wedding next weekend. She just needed a hem.” Marlena puts it back on the hanger. “I’ll have her come try it on once more, then I can steam it for her.”

“Are you invited to the wedding?” If she is, I’ll take her.

“Thankfully, no. I don’t like weddings.” She disappears into her room for a moment, then comes back empty handed.

“You don’t like them as a guest, or you don’t want to have a big wedding when you get married?” Our wedding will be as big or as small as she wants.

“I’m not getting married,” she says as she begins to clean up her workspace.

“Of course you are.” I get up from the recliner and roll my shoulders. It was easier to watch her work from the recliner, but the thing is old. Sitting there for the last hour has left a kink in my back.

“No, Viktor. I’m not.” She shakes her head while telling me this lie. “I don’t want to ever get married. I don’t want to have any sort of serious relationship.” She lifts her eyes to mine when she makes this declaration.

“What sort of relationship do you want then?” This conversation isn’t heading in the right direction. It might need a course correction.

“None.” She lifts a shoulder and picks up her basket with her sewing shears and other equipment.

“None at all? What about that man you went on a date with? The one from the coffee shop?”

She makes a face like she’s trying to remember, and then she laughs.

“Oh, him. No. That was just dinner. I told you, we can’t be an us, because I don’t want an us. With anyone.” She leaves me standing in the living room while she takes her sewing basket back to her room. I grab the sewing table and carry it back to her bedroom.

“Did he kiss you?” I put the machine table in the corner and turn to face her. “On your dinner date, did he kiss you?”

“You can’t be jealous. You’re not my boyfriend. We’re barely friends.”

“I don’t spank my friends,” I grumble.

She frowns. “Good to know.” Her cheeks bloom into a sweet blush. “Then we’ll stay friends.”

“No.”

“No?” She cocks her head to the side. “I don’t think you get to make that decision.”

“We’ll see.” We can revisit labels later. She can think all she wants that I’m going to just turn and walk away from her, but she’s wrong.

She leans her hip against the door frame and crosses her arms. “Well, I’m done with the dress and the laundry’s all put away.”

“Yes?” I slide my hands into my pockets. Her eyes trail over me, leaving a heated path everywhere her gaze touches. I want more of it. More of her.

“So, I’d say our afternoon together is done.” Ah, the adorable girl thought it was finished when she said so. She really has no clue who she is dealing with here. It’s time I taught her.

I make my way to her, moving across the old carpeting with slow, steady steps with our eyes locked until I’m standing right in front of her. Trailing my fingertips along her jaw, I cradle her chin in my palm.

“We still have one more thing to do.” I lower my mouth to hers, brushing my lips across hers too gently to be considered a kiss. But it ignites a fire in her eyes.

“What’s that?” She breathes the words.

“It’s time for your reward. Get on the bed.”

The man is beyond reason.I can’t lie and say spending the last hours with him was torture. In fact, it was almost nice having someone to hang out with while I folded towels and finished my sewing, but it’s done now.

---