“Indeed.”
“So who is the mystery woman?”
He arches a brow playfully. “Don’t you want to know.”
“I do. That’s why I asked!”
He squares his shoulders and takes a deep, exaggerated breath. “My grandma.”
“Aren’t you the perfect grandson?”
“Let’s just say I’ve been inspired to take her out. We have a date with Puccini.”
“And the perfectly cultured grandson.”
“That is true. Now, before I don my tux, hit me up with some sugar. Give me some of those new flavors so I know what I’m wheeling and dealing.”
I show him the chocolates, and he tries a few, rolling his eyes in pleasure. “You always do that. How will I ever know if these are truly good?”
“I guess you’ll just have to trust me. Would I lie to you?”
Cameron wouldn’t lie to me. Cameron has always been fully honest. That’s why I spit out the news that’s bubbling up inside me, because I’m dying to know what he thinks. “I think I’m falling for Leo.”
“Let me just slam on the brakes right now.” He makes a screeching sound, then shakes his head like a horse, trying to clear his thoughts.
He stares at me with bulging eyes, his voice hitting a few octaves higher than his deep, delicious baritone. “What did you just say?”
“I’m falling for Leo.” Saying it does crazy things to my heart. Makes the organ tap-dance around in my chest. “I think he feels the same. We’re going to date. We even told Kingsley at Heavenly. It’s nuts, isn’t it?”
“Nuts is when you wear muumuus and slippers to work. This is downright bananas, blowing-my-mind. You are aware he was the best man at your wedding?”
I shoot him a curious stare. I’m surprised he isn’t happier. “Gee, thanks. I’d nearly forgotten he was my ex’s best friend for ten years and counting. Want to tattoo on me that you don’t think I should get involved with him?”
He stares at me down the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what I said, and you know it.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying this is big. Ocean-size big. This is the-sea-turned-purple-and-is-floating-with-sapphires big.”
“Take me to your ocean, please.”
He squeezes my arm. “Are you really falling for him?”
My heart trampolines in my chest. “Yes. Falling like night falls, like waterfalls, like rainfalls.” But something gnaws at me, pokes its concerns into my shoulder. “But what about the three-legged stool analogy? Were we better as a three-legged stool?”
“Maybe the three of you were good as the Three Musketeers. But I think sometimes you told yourself that you were a threesome. At the end of the day, you went home with only one person. When it comes to love, most of the time a pair of aces beats three of a kind.”
That’s what I want to be with Leo—a pair. “So the analogy no longer applies.”
“It no longer applies for many reasons. Most of all, now there are two, and two is something of a perfect number. What do you want the two of you to be?”
That’s what I want to explore. “We’re still figuring it out, but something more than friends, for sure. A part of me thinks I should feel guilty, but I don’t. I don’t feel an ounce of guilt.”
He holds up a hand to high-five. “Guilt is a terrible emotion. Guilt strangles you. Guilt wraps its horrible tentacles around you and squeezes away your joy. That’s a scientifically proven fact.”
“Like, it’s been tested and verified?”
“Absolutely. Studies show that being stymied by guilt makes music sound tinny, spicy food taste bland, and champagne go flat. You don’t want that, do you?”
I shudder.
“Guilt also makes it impossible to move forward. And you’re not someone who can’t move forward. Are you?”
I shake my head, but even so, a slab of worry slams into my stomach. “But I’m scared.”
“What are you scared of? Being with Leo? Because it sure sounds like he might feel the same way you do.”
“I’m scared I’m still the same girl I was before.”
“What girl was that?”
I let all the fears spill from my mouth in a wild heap. “The poet, the dreamer, the one who listens to her heart, not her head. I’ve always been that girl. What if I haven’t changed? What if I haven’t learned? What if I’m still her?”
Cameron runs a hand over my arm, comforting me. “Look at you in your emerald-green dress making truffles for a company called Heavenly. Telling your best friend not to wear Birkenstocks to the opera tonight. Listening to Corinne Bailey Rae as you make something decadently sweet. You’re a big red beating heart on the sleeve. You’re probably always going to be that woman. But is she such a bad person to be?”
The image he paints is lovely, and I want to crawl into it, curl up, and live inside it. Still, worry is a superhero tonight, with super strength. “But shouldn’t I be someone who makes decisions with her head?”
“Some people make decisions with their head, some with their gut, and some with their heart. If I look back on the last ten years of your life, I’d still see a fierce warrior. I’d see an iron strength. And I’d say, too, that your heart’s been in the right place.” He taps my sternum. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to lead with your heart.”
