ROMANCE: His Reluctant Heart (Historical Western Victorian Romance) (Historical Mail Order Bride Romance Fantasy Short Stories) (130 page)

“Olivia!” Ben scolded. “Don’t embarrass her in front of me. I’ll never leave her alone about it.”

“He was,” Roz admitted. “He asked me to hang out with him after the dinner tonight.”

Olivia squealed and jumped up and down---but not too high, since she was already much closer to the ceiling. “Are you going to go?” she gushed. “You have to go! Oh, I
hoped
this would happen. Roz, you deserve someone nice.”

“Someone nicer than nice,” Ben interjected. “You deserve someone who will treat you like a princess. And not just when he’s on the clock.”

“Tonight’s a great night to find that out,” Olivia said. Her eyes were far away, and her tone was excited. “What are you going to wear? Oh, that green dress, the one that looks like crushed velvet? You look so good in that.”

“I think it makes you look Irish,” Ben said. “Is that the point?”

“Ignore him, he’s a man without fashion sense,” said Olivia smoothly. “Honestly, he’d be lost without me.”

“I really would,” Ben said, and he stood up and wrapped his arms around Olivia from behind. She smiled and closed her eyes, smiling blissfully as he embraced her. The top of his head came just to her shoulder blades. Roz felt the stab of sadness again, sharper and more pronounced.

“I love you guys,” she said thickly, her eyes filling with tears. They both made sounds of comfort and moved to wrap her in a hug. After a moment, Bradley toddled out of his bedroom and put both of his chubby hands on Roz’s bare legs. She looked down at him, and realization dawned on her. She was sad because she wanted what Olivia and Ben had. Bradley gave her constant happiness, but his parents were a reminder of what it took to create a little a bundle of love, or at least the way Roz wanted to go about it.

“We love you too,” Olivia said from inside the hug. “Remember we just want you to be happy. No matter what.”

Roz stepped back, alarmed at the choice in words. “No matter what?”

Olivia and Ben shared a look, and Olivia looked like she regretted speaking. “I just mean…don’t hold yourself back or anything, for any reason.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but a look from Ben stopped her.

Roz looked between them, confusion growing heavier in her mind. “What aren’t you saying?” she asked them. “It’s ok, you can tell me.”

“I think we should talk about it later,” Ben said loudly. He picked Bradley up and started to walk toward his room. “I have to get this guy dressed.”

“It’s nothing, just more of the same,” Olivia promised. “We don’t want you to make any decisions while you’re here based on the question we asked you before we came. That’s all.” She said the words quickly, almost like she was ripping off a band aid.

Roz felt understanding dawn on her, finally. “You guys are pushing me towards this guy because you think I won’t have fun if I’m thinking about being locked down with you two for another two years?” A smile spread across her face. “You’re crazy. I
love
working for you two. I love Bradley. That fact gives me nothing but happiness.”

“We just want you to know that we always want you to take time for yourself,” Olivia said gently, squeezing both of Roz’s slim shoulders. “You get so involved with enriching other’s lives, I think you forget to enrich your own. You deserve happiness and growth, and to get it where you want it most.” Her smile was brilliant and open, everything Roz had come to love about her in the last two years. She hugged her fiercely again.

“Thanks, Liv,” she said, thankful she could hold back her tears. “I’m gonna go get dressed.”

Olivia gave her a playful swat as she headed to her room. The bed was a Queen sized canopy bed with gauzy pink curtains tied together and a pearlescent headboard. Her suitcase was sitting next to the high bed, and she ripped it open, hunting for the green dress Olivia told her to wear. She showered and slipped it on twenty minutes later, happy that she had one dress that hugged t            pp0-  he gentle curves of her slim frame. The skirt fell to mid-thigh, and it highlighted the creamy paleness of her skin, another aspect of her appearance Sharon used to tease her mercilessly for. When she caught herself in the mirror, she almost didn’t recognize herself; her face was flushed, her short hair curled gently around her face, and her eyes were soft and shining with excitement. Her curves looked fuller and her waist more pronounced. She realized she hadn’t worn this dress in a year, and hadn’t had a date since the first year she started working for the Ikedas. Had she really been neglecting herself for so long?

“No more,” Roz whispered to herself. She was going to take Olivia’s advice; no longer would she coast mindlessly through life on a wave of contentment. She wanted to feel like she had this afternoon---alive and changing and growing,
real.
She remembered Artie’s hand on hers, warm and solid, and the surge of adrenaline she’d felt when he leaned in, close enough to kiss her. Roz took a deep breath, holding her own gaze in the mirror.
I can do this,
she decided.
I’m going to do this. I’m going to win one for myself.

She strode out of her room with purpose, full of nerves and teeming with energy.

 

Two hours later, she felt as though she had been thrown to the bottom of a well. Artie had been perfectly pleasant to her, but had been far more interested in speaking with the other guests. The food looked amazing, but it was tasteless and cold to Roz. She played with her potatoes dejectedly until an attendant came and lifted it away. Olivia kept looking from Artie to Roz, apparently noticing his sudden coldness as well. Roz was happy she hadn’t imagined his warmth or his sudden change in mood; both had been so unexpected it would have been easy to convince her that she’d imagined it. The guests filtered out of the lovely dining hall slowly, scraping their chairs against the cleaning wooden floors loudly as they exited. Olivia, Roz, and Artie were last; Ben had taken Bradley to bed after he’d fallen asleep eating Jell-O. He’d patted Roz’s head affectionately as he left the room, the only gesture he could offer while holding his son. Olivia was gazing at Artie coolly. Roz fidgeted in her seat, wanting nothing more but to flee. He hadn’t said more than a few curt words to her all night. Her mind was jumpy from flipping through all the possible ways she could have offended him, but there were none that made sense. Olivia must have come to the same conclusion as well. She rose, finally, eyes still on Artie, who was staring at his wine glass resolutely.

“Well, Roz,” she said slowly. “I’ll see you at the cabin. I don’t think there’s anything worth staying for here.”

Roz burned with anger and embarrassment as she studied Artie’s face. He still wasn’t looking at her, and it was growing more and more awkward with every passing minute. She cleared her throat, waiting for him to look up. When he didn’t, she did it again. He still wouldn’t answer.

“Artie,” she snapped, finally fed up. “This is ridiculous. Just tell me why you’re blowing me off. Tell me you were playing with me. Tell me it was a dare.” Tears welled in her eyes, and Artie slowly raised his icy blue gaze to meet hers. “Just tell me you didn’t mean anything you said, so I can go. “ Roz stood, her legs shaky, but determined to storm out as strongly as Olivia had.

Artie sighed, and the sound broke Roz’s heart and shattered her will power. “My brother says I can’t hang out with you,” he said, utterly forlorn. He sounded so miserable that Roz actually laughed.

“You’re kidding, right?” she spat. “Your brother--who, if I remember correctly, is only a few years older than you---
forbade
you to hang out with me like you’re some child?” The anger swelling in her chest felt like it was too strong to be pointed at one person, but it felt good to let out. “You’re going to let your older sibling run your life---and for what? So you can keep impressing him?”

“You don’t understand,” Artie said, his voice hurt. “My whole life has been about making him happy, proving to him that I’m responsible. He thinks I’m just chasing after some silly fantasy.” His face burned red, and his words grew more fierce. “He doesn’t understand the way you make me feel. He’s never been like that.”

“He doesn’t have to understand!” Roz said desperately. She walked around the table and stood in front of him, and Artie stood quickly, startled by the movement. “He just has to respect your decisions. This is
your
life, Artie. You have to be the one happy to live it, not him. You have to remember to live for yourself. Tell Sh----tell your brother the truth.” Artie looked at her curiously, and Roz tried to move on, not wanting him to know she’d almost said her sister’s name. “Tell him you want this, and then just do it. You don’t need his approval. You don’t need
anyone’s
approval She hesitated, then placed her palms on either side of his face. Artie held her wrists gently, rubbing her soft skin with his thumb. “You just need to be happy. You’ve accomplished so much. Didn’t you promise your dad you’d never let this resort get in the way of your happiness?”

She watched her words impact Artie. The panic in eyes started to slide away, and his shoulders relaxed. His coloring returned to normal, and he pulled both her wrists around him until he could wrap his strong arms around her. Roz felt his heart beat against her chest, matching the frantic pace of her own. Roz relaxed into his broad chest, feeling the peculiarly fuzzy happiness that she discovered when she’d first been alone with him. It was unbelievable to her that she’d only known him a day; it felt much longer.

He pulled back from her too soon, but his eyes were soft and much warmer now. “I’m sorry,” Artie said, cupping her face gently. “I don’t know why I bowed to him like that. Thank you for saying all that. I think I really needed to hear it.” He was gazing at her full lips and studying her freckles with a look of pure wonder. “How did you know I needed to hear that?”

Roz smiled, embarrassed. “I know something about bowing to older siblings. Someone very close to me gave me a similar talk, or else I would have been as lost as you.” She felt a surge of affection for him, and before she could stop herself, she raised herself to her tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his.

Artie stiffened in surprise, then relaxed, wrapping his arms around his slim waist and holding her against him as his lips opened and their tongues entangled gently. She felt the breath leaving her lungs, and her skin tingled as she plunged her fingers into his wavy hair. He bent her backwards, pressing his lips harder against hers until she let out a delirious moan. Then he was pulling her up, and his mouth was receding. Roz sucked air into her lungs as he released her, and she grabbed his arms to steady herself as the ground rocked under her feet.

“Wow,” she said breathlessly. He was gazing at her intently, his pale blue eyes burning with emotion.

“Wow,” he echoed. “And to think I almost didn’t get to do that.”

“Idiot,” Roz teased. She heard a squealing sound from the doorway, and turned to see Olivia peering at them through the glass door. Roz flushed with embarrassment, but Artie just laughed.

“I’m glad she’s supportive,” he admitted. “I was worried she’d have a problem with me moving in on their nanny.”

“Are you kidding?” Roz said, smiling as Olivia ran away. “She basically threw me at you.” She shivered as Artie’s eyes moved over her face.

“I’m so happy about that, because I definitely wasn’t backing off.” He smiled, and dipped his head toward her for a kiss.

 

The next few weeks moved by so fast that living in them still felt too brief. She and Artie quickly became inseparable. Artie opened up more about his family, and Roz met Joey, his brother. He was nice, but he seemed to be biting his tongue. Roz had a feeling that was because of Artie, and she felt a stab of pride. He actually took her advice and made her feel heard. He also made her feel special without it seeming like an adult humoring a child, something she’d been afraid of due to their age difference. Artie’s passion and intelligence made him more youthful than Roz expected, though, and it endeared him to her more.

Even Bradley grew fond of Artie; he got used to seeing them hang around each other, and would “
Aw-tee!”
whenever he saw the man. Roz had never felt this way before, but she knew before he took her to the art building on their last evening together what she was going to say to him. They both had been carefully avoiding talking about what would happen when Roz left to go back home, but Roz, at least, knew what she
wanted
to happen. She wore the same green dress she wore the night they kissed. She held Artie’s hand as he steered her into the biggest art studio, where most of the advanced art classes took place. Her eyes were closed tight at his command, and she waited until he gave her shoulders a squeeze before opening them. When she saw the wall opposite her, she gasped: it was the sketch of the grounds she’d made on her first day, blown up after she’d finished painting it and placed high above the row of enormous windows. She couldn’t believe she was seeing her art on the walls of this place she’d grown to love, and as a lump swelled in her throat, she realized that
this
was the dream she wanted to chase. She turned toward the man who had helped her uncover her passion, eyes wet with tears.

“Thank you,” she said, trying to keep herself contained.

“I haven’t even told you the good news yet,” Artie said gently. Roz cocked her head, and he cupped her chin affectionately. “This is yours, if you want it. We need a weekend teacher for watercolors. And I think you’re just the woman for the job.” He beamed at her, waiting for her response. His smile slipped when there wasn’t one. Roz was staring at him, unable to process the words she’d just heard.

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