Page 126 of Going Viral for Christmas
“Only if you count hanging plants and overpriced farm-to-table menus as bondage.”
Her lips curl. “Color me intrigued.”
The GPS chimes softly. I take the next turn that swallows us deeper into the night, onto a quiet road winding through a grove of pine and maple, their bare branches dusted in icy lace. At the end of the lane, a structure appears—glassed walls glowing from within.
The greenhouse.
She stiffens as I put the car in park. “What is this?”
“You’ll see.”
I get out and walk around to her side. Chivalry may be outdated, but I’m leaning into every romance trope tonight. I offer her my hand, and to my surprise, she takes it. Her palm is small and cool, and my stomach somersaults at her touch.
Inside, the greenhouse is warm, scented with earth and citrus. String lights hang in lazy loops overhead, and candles flicker from stone planters and hanging lanterns.
At the center of the space, beneath an arch of ferns and ivy, is a small picnic setup: thick blankets, two chairs, and a table covered with dishes.
“Another favor.” I shrug, watching her eyes scan the scene. “The owner of the botanical center’s a fan. I promised a signed edition and a quote for their Valentine’s brochure.”
“Romantic bribery.”
I chuckle. “I’m not ashamed.”
She walks ahead, fingers brushing a vine of jasmine. “This is…”
“Too much?”
Her eyes meet mine across the candlelight. “No. It’s perfect.”
My chest expands. I don’t let myself grin. Yet.
We sit. Eat. Talk. She teases me for my soup-slurping. I tease her for the way she smells everything before tasting it.
“You remind me of a suspicious woodland creature,” I say. She laughs. I light up.
The meal is delicious, and filled with laughter that comes more easily than I expected.
As I retrieve the deck of “Conversation Cards” from my coat pocket, a curiosity crosses Ava’s features.
“I have questions,” I clarify. “And I thought we could play a game.”
“Prepared, are you?”
“Ambitious,” I smirk. “Your turn first.”
She picks a card. “Favorite book growing up?”
“The Last Unicorn.It made me cry, but don’t spread that around.”
A soft smile. “Your secret’s safe.”
“My turn.” I shuffle, pull a card. “First kiss?”
She snorts. “Middle school. Halloween dance. He was dressed as a cowboy. I was Juliet.”
“A cross-genre masterpiece.”
She huffs a laugh, then looks away, hair falling over her shoulder.
