Leveled: A Novella (Saints of Denver #0.5)(114)

Arriving at our dinner destination, Lev talked to the woman at the counter, speaking in rapid fire Russian, getting more and more frustrated with every additional word, he slapped his hand down on the counter and turned to me, his face hard, his lips thin, “They’re booked for a private function.”

It didn’t bother me that the short journey was wasted. I was just happy to be there with Lev. “That’s okay, sweetie. We’ll go eat somewhere else.”

He looked down at me, his voice clinical. “No, it had to be here.”

I blinked at his unlikely tantrum. “Well, here isn’t available. So we’ll go somewhere else.” I took his hand and led him out of the restaurant, running my thumb along his knuckles. “It’s no big deal, Lev. We’ll come back another time.”

His jaw tight, he nodded but I could tell he was upset, and I didn’t understand why. I couldn’t believe I was saying it but, it was just food.

When we got into the car and Lev asked me where we should dine, I was brutally honest with him. “Honey, all I want to do is go home, watch movies and eat pizza with you. Follow that with getting naked for playtime and that would be the best date night ever.”

He looked over at me a long moment before he took my hand, lifted it to his mouth, pressed a soft kiss to the back of it and sighed, “If that is what you wish, mouse.”

We came home to an empty house and I kicked off my shoes, holding them and walking them up the stairs with me. Halfway up, I squeaked as Lev hefted me up into his arms and walked me the rest of the way and into the bedroom.

Someone had cleaned up the mess I’d left in the form of a pile of clothes by the sofa, the bed was made immaculately and the bathroom light was on, a wonderfully sweet smell coming from inside.

Lev took my hands in his and looked down at me, his eyes warm. “I wanted tonight to be special. So far, it hasn’t been but I’ll make it up to you.” He walked me over to the bathroom, opening the door all the way, revealing what the sweet smell had been.

A bubble bath had been run, smelling of vanilla with rose petals scattered throughout it.

My breath caught. “Oh, sweetie. It’s beautiful.”

His hands came down on my shoulders from behind and he rested his chin on my head. “Why don’t you soak for a while? I’ll call for pizza and when you’re done we can find a movie to watch.”

I turned, forcing his arms to dislodge. I looked up at him and stated fiercely. “This is the best date night ever. I know this and it’s barely even begun, but I know this.” I reached out to squeeze his hand. “This is special.”

His eyes softened even more and he reached for the bathroom door handle. “Go. Soak. Relax,” he uttered, closing the door behind him.

I did as I was told and, undressing and slipping into the tub, I soaked in the warm water in the tub for a long while, until the water started to take on a slight chill to it.

Where had all this romance come from?

It sounded like Lev was feeling the need to prove himself or something of the like. I would need to set him straight. I didn’t need romance, not like this. I just needed Lev to be himself and I’d be forever happy.

I let the water out, wiped myself down then dressed in my white robe. When I made my way out of the bathroom to tell Lev to cut it out, my breath left me in a whoosh.

Why, you ask?

Because standing in the middle of the bedroom was Lev, with the lights off, hundreds of tea candles lit all over, the room glittering in the soft illumination. The bed turned down, he swallowed hard, taking in my expression of shock as my gaze flittered across the room. Still dressed in his three-piece, Lev shifted his weight on his feet and held out his hand.

I hesitated only a moment before I came to him, reaching out to place my hand in his. “What is this?” I asked quietly, awestruck.

He took a step back, away from me and reached into his breast pocket. When he pulled back, he looked down at what he’s just pulled out of his pocket and when my eyes settled on the cue cards he held, my brow rose.

Lev cleared his throat, once, twice, a third time. “Mina,” he read. “The way we met was highly unusual and I admit I was most relived when I found out you were not a thief.”

My brows rose higher but he didn’t see, so he continued.

“And I”—he looked around the room, down on the bed, over at the sofa before he got distracted and announced—“I forgot the flowers. Hold on.”

He whizzed past me and out of the room, leaving me in the middle of the bedroom, mouth gaping. He returned in under a minute and held a beautiful bunch of flowers in his hand. Clearing his throat again, he went on. “And I am grateful for having met you.” He thrust out the flowers and read robotically, “Here in this bouquet you will find vines of Ivy, Lilac and Camillia.”

He switched to another cue card and went on. “Ivy symbolizes fidelity. Lilac symbolizes first love. And Camellia symbolizes thankfulness and appreciation.” He pushed the flowers out farther into me and I took them. He looked relieved when his shoulders drooped. In the candlelight, I saw a sheen of sweat beading his forehead. Reaching up to loosen his tie, he swallowed hard and read on, “With this bouquet, I give you a promise. A promise that I will always be faithful to you, adore you and never take you for granted.”

Waving the cue cards across his face, he lifted his gaze to me and asked, “Is it hot in here?”