The Bachelor's Perfect Proposal (Bliss Series Book 2) (5 page)

H
alf-dazed
, I searched for Veronica, reaching a hand over her part of the bed. When my hands touched cold sheets, my eyes popped open. I turned on my back and looked around the room.

The sun filtered through the windows and a soft wind ruffled the floral curtains. On one side of the room, the en suite bathroom door was wide open, meaning Veronica had finished showering and dressing for work. Had I missed her? She could be as quiet as a thief in the night when getting ready in the mornings. Pushing the quilt off me, I swung my legs over the bed and padded out of the bedroom, rubbing a hand over my face.

She was still in the apartment, in the kitchen, already dressed for work. I paused at the threshold as Veronica swore at the espresso machine I’d brought over the week before. The fact that she was making coffee instead of tea meant she was exhausted, too. I almost regretted that I had woken her up when I came home. Almost.

I approached her from behind, letting my hands wander over her curves, and tasting the fragrance of the exposed skin of her neck and shoulder. “Good morning.”

Her soft hum rumbled against my chest. She reached a hand up to tangle her fingers through my hair. “Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.” She turned around, sucking in a gasp at my lack of clothes and my state of...readiness. Slowly dragging her eyes up to my face, she chewed on her bottom lip, and muttered, “I have to be at work in half an hour.”

How could I resist? “I’ll try very hard to get you to work on time.”

“That’s what you said last week, and I came in two hours late.”

“I said I’ll try,” I murmured before hoisting her up, wrapping her legs around my hips, and supporting her bottom. With a Cheshire–cat grin on my face, I carried her back to bed.

* * *

T
hree hours later
, I watched as a black ball bounced on the wall an inch below the outline and flew my way. I waited for the right moment to swing my racket, making contact with the ball right after it hit the floor once.

As highly competitive individuals, Jake and I could get into serious relays. However, not once had he beat me. At least, not in squash. I wiped sweat off my forehead, readying for another swing. And missed.

Admittedly, I was out of sorts. I was distracted.

I grunted, hitting the ball back toward the front wall. It changed trajectory and shot past Jake’s racket, less than an inch away. But a miss was a miss. And it had won me the game.

“You got lucky,” Jake commented, as we walked to the locker room.

“If you mean last night, yeah.” I offered him a smirk. “This morning too, if you must know. I might even drop in on her after lunch at work.”

Jake shook his head, grinning. “I meant that last shot. My hand slipped.” He was always a sore loser. “Although I’m glad to know the honeymoon phase hasn’t ended.”

“Far from it.” I was proud to say it. Every single day I’d spent with Veronica had been better than the one before, but something niggled at me. Something I could only describe as doubt and fear.

I opened my locker door and used a towel to swipe off sweat before taking off my clothes. At first, I didn’t notice Jake staring at me. I paused, securing a large towel over my hips.

“What?” I challenged.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Jake declared, “Olivier Laurent, head over heels in love.”

We had a unique situation, Jake and I. He’d dated Veronica for a few months. They’d been exclusive, but Veronica had been more serious about it than Jake. If he were any other guy, and not my best friend, I would have swung a left hook for hurting her when they broke up. I also could have been faulted for that since Jake had met Sandrine through me. In my defense, I’d not foreseen Jake falling for Sandrine the second they’d met.

At any other time, if Jake had admitted to falling in love that fast, I would have laughed at him and told him he’d lost his marbles. But eight months before Jake met Veronica, nearly a year before he and Sandrine had been introduced, I’d discovered that love at first sight existed.

Or, in my case, love at first bump. And every time I thought of that initial contact with Veronica, my blood pressure would spike.

But fate was cruel to me, always had been, despite the fact that everyone else thought otherwise. I had trouble—for the first time in my life—trying to connect with Veronica, or at the very least, have her notice me. I’d gone to event after event that she and her company had put together, almost feeling like a stalker.

Then one night, at yet another event, after a quick handshake with me, Jake had made a beeline for her, and they’d instantly hit it off. It had been painful observing them from afar. I’d tried drowning my sorrows with other women, acting like a complete buffoon around Jake and Veronica as they continued with their relationship.

All of that came to a stop when he broke it off and began dating my cousin, Sandrine. Veronica had even planned their wedding. During the planning, fate had finally smiled upon me.

Veronica had fought it, naturally.

“Are you going to give me an answer today?” Jake’s question pierced through my thoughts.

“Did you ask me something?”

Jake laughed. “I asked if you’re joining us at my parents on Thursday night.”

“Ah, yeah, Thursday, sure.” I scratched the top of my head. “For what again?”

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Jake laughed again. “I know you’re probably not getting enough rest, but have mercy on Nica. She needs a good dose of sleep.”

“What? I let her sleep…afterwards,” I protested.

“Then what the hell has gotten into you?” There was an entertained look on his face, but a second later, it changed into something more serious. “Jesus, Levi, don’t tell me you’re thinking of breaking up with her!” He punched my right arm, though not hard. “You just told me that it was far from over?”

“No! Shit no! It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” Jake leaned forward, and lowered his voice. “Is she pregnant?”

“No! I don’t think so.” I couldn’t exactly count how many times Veronica and I had made love, but every single time we’d been careful. “That’s not it.”

Jake spread his hands in front of him, waiting for an explanation.

I brushed my hair back, and reached into my locker. Jake looked down at the box I’d opened. “You’re getting married?”

He made a movement that told me he was ready to give me a congratulations bump, but I stopped him. “I haven’t asked her yet, genius.” I snapped the box closed and returned it in my jacket pocket.

“She’s going to say yes. You can’t think that she won’t.”

I scratched the stubble on my face. I should shave. Veronica liked it when I shaved, but I also liked the little giggles she would release when a bit of facial hair tickled her.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” I confessed, but it felt like a lie.

“What are you waiting for?”

My hands flew in the air. “It’s the how.” Jake didn’t seem to understand. As much as he was charming, he wasn’t the most romantic man. I’d had to help him plan his proposal to Sandrine. “It has to be perfect.”

Jake clapped a hand on my shoulder. “I’m surprised you had it in you, considering everything.” I tried not to think of what he meant by ‘everything’.

“Ask Sandrine for ideas, or go to Chase. She’d be able to lead you to the right direction.”

“Chase hates my guts.”

Jake shrugged. “That’s Chase, though. When it comes to Nica, she’s like an overprotective watchdog, ready to pounce and draw blood.”

My phone vibrated in my locker. A text message from Martina, asking if I had popped the question yet. (Reading between the lines: have I failed yet?) I shoved the phone back into the locker, slammed the door, and proceeded to the showers.

* * *

I
walked
through the Bliss Event Designers doors and was immediately greeted by Jewel, Veronica’s colleague.

“She’s in a meeting,” she informed me, waving a hand toward the little square room they dubbed a “conference room”.

“That’s fine. Can I wait in her office?”

“Uhm...she has another client waiting there.” Jewel leaned her hands on her small desk. “He’s been waiting for half an hour. I tried to reschedule him, but he was insistent.”

I glanced at Veronica’s office. The blinds on the windows were not drawn, shielding whoever was inside from me, and the door was closed. I wasn’t thrilled to find out that she’d be alone in her office with another man. Not that I didn’t trust her. I did, implicitly. It was always the other person I couldn’t trust. With a past like mine, it was hard to avoid trust issues.

“I’ll sit out here then. You don’t mind if I make a few phone calls, do you?” Jewel shook her head. “Thanks, I promise to do it quietly.”

I took a spot on the comfortable gray couch beside the large window, dropping the paper bag and bouquet of flowers I carried on the glass coffee table in front of me. Before I could go through my contacts, a text message from Veronica appeared on the screen:

Hey, hot stuff!

Grinning at the phone, I sent a quick reply:

Hey yourself, gorgeous. I miss you.

Peering through my lashes, I spied her looking casual, pretty in her pink floral dress, and unaffected by my text, while she listened to what her client was saying.

I love that dress on you. What happened to the blue dress from this morning?

I watched her surreptitiously read my text, reddening at my implication, and typing on her phone under the table:

Someone wrinkled it. Then he made me late for work AGAIN!

Rubbing my chin with a hand, I hid my smirk behind my fingers, before I typed back:

Lucky bastard.

I waited for another reply but when I looked up, she’d taken over the meeting. Instead of making phone calls, I replied to emails that had been waiting for me.

Five minutes later, Chase, Veronica, and their clients stepped out of the conference room. Veronica bade them farewell and walked them to the door before standing before me. She bent down and placed a quick kiss on my lips. Her lips tasted like honey.

“I brought you lunch.” I pointed at the table.

Veronica looked over her shoulder, turned around and picked up the flowers, pressing the peonies to her nose. “And flowers! How romantic. Your mother taught you well.” I smiled at her. It was a simple gesture that I didn’t learn from my mother, nor from my father. My mother had constantly stated that there wasn’t a romantic bone in my father…at least not toward her. He had shown all of that to women he’d cheated with.

“Thank you for lunch, but I have another meeting,” she said, pointing at her closed office door. “Can you wait in the kitchen? I’ll try to keep it short.”

I stood, nodding. “I’m in no rush. The food will keep.”

“Great,” Veronica said as she sauntered to her office. The sway of her hips mesmerized me. I could never get enough of watching her.

* * *

I
was seated
on one of the four stools in the kitchen, reading the local paper, when Chase walked in.