Page 334 of Playing With Fire

“I'm still processing.”

He pushes away from the wall and comes toward me. “Happy Valentine's Day.”

He kisses me, softly at first.

Then his hand settles at my waist, and I forget about the flowers, the candles, and the fact that I haven't even taken off my coat.

When he pulls back, I'm smiling. “Happy Valentine's Day.”

He takes my bag. “Long day?”

“Angela had me proofreading catalog copy for three hours, and Steve Owens apparently thinks punctuation is a personal attack.”

“Sounds traumatic.”

“It was. I deserve compensation.”

“Good thing I've got a plan.”

I glance at the petals. “I'm almost afraid to ask.”

“Come on.” He takes my hand.

And leads me toward the bathroom.

If I thought the living room was impressive, the bathroom is downright unfair.

The enormous soaking tub is filled nearly to the brim, with a mountain of white bubbles floating across the surface. More candles line the counter and the ledge beneath the windows. A vase of pink roses sits beside two glasses of sparkling water.

The whole room smells faintly of vanilla and something floral. Not overpowering. Just warm and sweet. Steam curls above the water.

I turn toward Bishop. “You did all this?”

“No, Becks. Darcy's been planning it for weeks.”

I laugh. “Seriously.”

“Seriously.”

I step closer to the tub. The water glows beneath the candlelight, and there's a folded stack of towels waiting on the bench. “This is beautiful.”

His expression softens. “Yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Thought you could use a night where you didn't have to worry about anything.”

Something in my chest squeezes. Because he knows, he knows I've been juggling work and writing and trying to figure out what comes after my internship ends.

He knows I've been staying up too late, falling asleep with my laptop open, my pink notebook on my lap, and drinking entirely too much coffee. And instead of telling me to relax, he's given me a reason to.

The man who once made me feel like a secret has spent an entire evening making sure I feel seen.

“You're pretty good at this boyfriend thing.”

“Don't sound so surprised.”