Page 15 of Along Came Amor
Once Ava sat down, Roman lifted a champagne bottle out of the ice bucket.
She let out a soft gasp when she saw the label. “But we already made a toast downstairs.”
“That was before I knew why you were at the bar,” he said. “Had I known, I would have dispensed with the theatrics and gone straight to the champagne.”
“This feels too extravagant.”
“We don’t have to open it,” he said. “But I thought we should toast the next phase of your life.”
“The next phase,” she murmured, her voice hoarse with emotion. “You know, I used to be that person who always had a detailed plan for the future. Now? I don’t even know how to dream anymore.”
Roman’s heart broke for her. “Shall I?”
Her eyes were a little misty, but she bit her lower lip and nodded.
Roman popped the bottle, then filled their champagne flutes. As the tiny bubbles fizzed merrily, he raised his glass and said, “To you, Ava. To imperfection. To dreaming. To welcoming whatever comes next, with or without a plan.” He paused. “How was that?”
She took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
They sat at the table by the pool sipping champagne and nibbling on appetizers while the sky darkened above them. When the main courses arrived, Ava exclaimed over the selection, but took her time considering each dish and making herself a plate. As they ate, Roman noted what she liked and what she felt lukewarm about. For later? He didn’t know if there’d be a later. But just in case, he filed the information away.
They talked as they ate—about the food, about their jobs—and avoided heavier topics like family and relationships.
It was... easy. Unhurried. For someone who lived and died by his schedule, it was nice to take an evening off.
The air cooled, but it was still warm out. Ava gazed longingly at the pool.
“I wish I could go for a swim,” she murmured.
“What’s stopping you?”
She shot him a surprised look. “Well, my hair, for one thing.”
“What about it? It looks great.”
“Exactly. Do you know how long this takes to achieve?” She twirled a perfectly defined curl around her finger. “Too long. Besides, I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”
Roman spread his hands and gestured around them. “I won’t tell anyone.”
She stared at him for a long time, a myriad of emotionscrossing her face, too quick to decipher. Maybe he’d pushed her too hard. Maybe she was rethinking this whole evening. Just as he was about to apologize for teasing her, she spoke.
“You asked me earlier what I’d do if I didn’t have to worry about being perfect.”
“And what’s that?”
She got up and slipped off her shoes. “This.”
He blinked. “What are you doing?”
“Getting my hair wet.”
“You’re going in?” he asked, unable to suppress the note of incredulity in his voice.
She nodded but didn’t look at him as her hands went to the button at her waistband. “I love swimming. And I can’t pass up a private rooftop pool.”
She slipped her pants down her legs, and Roman tried not to swallow his tongue.
Muttering something about New Ava, she straightened and pulled her blouse over her head, revealing a light pink bra that matched her panties. She was tall and long-limbed, with generous hips his palms ached to touch.
