Carnations in January (14 page)

Elliott put the flowers on the bed and swung himself into the chair. He grabbed Grace's hand. “Walk with me.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “I'll push then, shall I?”

Grace grinned. “You wanted him in the chair.” She squeezed Elliott's hand as she walked. His calloused fingers caressed hers with a gentle yet firm touch.

Elliott groaned as they wheeled him into the public café on the ground floor of the hospital. “This is still hospital food.”

“Yes, but for visitors, therefore it's edible,” Joel told him. “Now sit there, and don't move.”

Elliott shook his head. “You didn't say please.”

“Grace, reason with him,” Joel said, heading over to the counter.

She chuckled. “Apparently I have to reason with you.”

He reached across the table taking her hand in his. “I'd rather talk about us. You seem happier today.”

“I am. There's only one more thing that would make things perfect.”

“What's that? Assuming it's not your house finished tomorrow.”

She laughed. “No. I…”

Elliott covered her lips with his index finger. “Let me ask you something first. Something I tried to ask about a week ago. Ever since I met you, my life has taken a turn for the better. My thoughts are filled with you. The coffee was just an excuse to see you, but I was too scared to do anything about it.”

“Scared? You?”

His eyes grew serious. “You don't know the half of it. Finding you like that in your bathroom, with the pills?” He stopped his brow furrowed. “Let me explain my reaction. When I was twelve, I came home from school to find Mum in bed. She'd taken an overdose and she was just lying there, dead. At the time, I thought she just didn't love me enough to want to stay. That I hadn't been enough.”

“Oh, Elliott...”

“Don't say it,” he whispered. “It took me a long time to care again and watching Joel's marriage fall apart, made me doubt any woman could ever love any man enough to stick around. Then you came along and from the moment I first spoke to you, there was something, some spark within me that wanted me to try. I think that spark was from God.” He took a deep breath. “What I'm trying to say, is I want to spend more time with you. Get to know you. Go out with you. If you want, that is.”

She could barely hear him over the pounding of her heart. “I would, very much so.”

“Then how about dinner tomorrow night at our place?”

“I'd like that.”

Joel put the tray on the table. “Here we go.”

Elliott smiled. “Thank you. Grace is coming for dinner tomorrow night.”

“And bringing pudding,” she added.

“Chocolate, I hope,” Elliott said.

She chuckled at the childlike look on Elliott's face. “Is there any other kind?”

“None that count.”

~*~

The following evening, Elliott looked at Joel. “This isn't going to work. I'm on crutches.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Oh, ye of little faith. Of course, it will. Just ask Grace to help. Now, dinner is in the oven and needs to come out in fifteen minutes. The juice is in the fridge, the table's laid, and candles burning. Have fun.” He waved and headed out.

Elliott adjusted the heat under the pans, not wanting them to boil over and glanced at the clock. She should be here any minute. His stomach twinged with nerves and his palms were damp. He shook his head, irritated with himself for feeling like a teenager. This wasn't his first date…no, that wasn't quite true. It was his first proper date, which at his age was ridiculous.

The doorbell rang, and he slowly made his way down the hall. He opened the door and sucked in a deep breath.

A vision of beauty stood there. Her light brown hair hung loose over her shoulders, the dark crimson skirt beneath her coat brushed the floor. In her hands, she held another bunch of carnations. Her smile lit the dark evening. “Hi.”

“Wow…you look amazing.” The words were out before he could stop them.

Her cheeks flushed a delightful shade of red. “These are for you.” She held out the flowers.

Somehow, he managed to take them, and move backwards without falling, so that Grace could come in. She hung her coat, revealing the rest of the dress. She took his breath away, but not just her beauty. The glow that now radiated from within brightened her eyes, lightened her smile. Picking up the carrier bag, she opened it to show him the three small glass bowls. “Pudding.”

He winked. “Joel had to go out, so it's just us. I reckon that's one and a half puddings each.”

She peeked into the lounge and grinned. “Had to go out, after he set the table for a candlelit dinner for two, huh?”

Elliott's cheeks burned. “Yeah, well. Go on through to the kitchen.”

Grace put the chocolate desserts in the fridge. “What can I do to help? And don't say nothing. I can see you're finding it hard to maneuver tonight.”

He sighed. “I'd hoped it wasn't that obvious, but yeah, I am struggling a little. It's almost ready to come out and be served. I thought if we put the dishes on the table, we could help ourselves.”

“Sounds good. Let me put those flowers in water for you.”

Elliott looked down. He'd forgotten he was still holding them. How could one woman affect him so much? Was this what being in love was like? “Thank you.” He gave them to her and moved to the stove to check on the veg.

By the time she'd arranged the flowers, dinner was cooked. He felt totally helpless, as Grace carried the plates and dishes to the lounge. Flicking out the main light, he followed her to the table, the room illuminated by the candles. He'd have to thank Joel later. The candlelight was as beautiful as Grace.

He waited until she'd sat before sitting opposite of her. “Shall I say grace?”

She winked at him once he finished praying. “Don't you mean…?”

“…Grace,” he chorused with her.

Grace giggled and started dishing up her meal, while he did his. He might have been jumping the gun a tad here, but he could get used to this.

“Did Joel really cook this?” she asked.

“No, I did. I got out of hospital this morning and sat by the stove or at the kitchen counter to prepare most of it. All Joel did was put it in the oven and set the table.”

She took a bite. “The chicken is lovely. Was he ever going to be here tonight?”

“I wasn't sure, to be honest, but he said he didn't want to get in the way. And honestly, I'm glad it's just the two of us.”

“Me, too.” Her fingers touched his for a moment. “The candlelight just wouldn't work with three of us.”

He swallowed, desperate to control his rampant emotions at her caress. “Tell me about the real you,” he said.

She took her hand back. “Me?” she asked, cutting her chicken.

“Yeah, what you like, don't like…”

Grace frowned at her plate for a second. “Ummm. I like walking, singing and rainbows. I hate the rain, cold, and black. You?”

“Why black?” he asked, glad he hadn't put his black shirt on.

“It's depressing, the color of death.” She paused. “Doesn't mean a bloke doesn't look smart in a tux or a black shirt, but I just don't like it on me.”

“Fair enough. Well, I like cooking, being in church, walking in the woods or on a beach, and sunrises. I don't like being alone and orange.”

“Orange?” she raised an eyebrow. “The juice or the fruit?”

“The color. Mum had this orange sweater on when I found her.”

Concern flooded her face. “I'm sorry. I promise not to wear orange, or bring you orange flowers.” She tilted her head. “Unless you hate being brought flowers as well.”

He chuckled. “Well, even though it's the bloke that's meant to buy and give the flowers, I don't mind. Carnations are my favorite flower. They mean love, did you know that?”

Grace smiled. “Along with pride, beauty, purity, distinction, fascination, and loyalty.” She paused, her eyes twinkling in the flickering light. “Yes, I did eat the flower meaning manual for breakfast.”

Elliott laughed. He loved her sense of humor. “Tasty?”

“Not as tasty as this. But, being serious, I figured a florist ought to know what the different flowers mean.” She chewed for a moment then swallowed. “And a carnation seems to sum you up.”

“It's not my birth flower.” He gazed at her, wondering where she was going with this.

“Nor mine.” She grinned. “But it does suit you. You're loyal and—”

“Proud?” he finished.

She shook her head. “No, but you do have an air of distinction around you. And you're pretty fascinating.”

Elliott's cheeks warmed under her gaze. He shifted uncomfortably on his chair. “Pretty or fascinating?”

“Both. Especially when you blush.” Her lips curved in a mischievous smile.

“I'm not blushing,” he objected, knowing he was as the burning in his face increased. “It's the reflection of your dress and the candlelight.”

“Uh huh, sure it is.”

He studied her. “And carnations suit you, as well. Because you're pure, despite what you might think, and pretty.” He noted with satisfaction that her cheeks now flamed red, too.

“You had to do that, didn't you?” she asked.

“You're beautiful when you blush.” The redness in her cheeks deepened as he took her hand. “I can't imagine anything more perfect right now, than being with you. Were you planning on attending the wedding on Saturday?”

“I have a lot to do in the morning, but I was hoping to go, yeah.”

“Would you sit with me?”

Her whole face lit up like a sunrise. “I'd like that. I'm delivering the flowers first thing on Saturday and tomorrow afternoon I'm decorating the church. I really hope I don't mess this up.”

“You won't.” His thumb moved slowly over the back of her hand. Her skin was so soft, so fragile. He was filled with this insane need to protect her from the entire world. Just wrap her up in cotton wool and hide her from everything and everyone.

“I wish I were that confident,” she whispered. “I mess this up and I ruin the entire day.”

Elliott raised her hand to his mouth, pressing his lips gently against it. “You won't,” he managed, speech almost beyond him. Every nerve ending in his body jangled. How could she do this to him so easily?

She held his gaze, trembling. Did she feel it too? This almost electrical sensation that passed between them, making every nerve, every movement seem more vibrant and colorful than ever before. Her tongue flicked over her lips. “So, I thought I might buy a van for work, rather than using my car.”

He reached for his glass. “Sounds like a good idea,” he said.

“And hire someone to drive it. It'd be a bit more professional.”

“I can put you in touch with a good mechanic once you've got one. She's one of the best.”

“She?”

“Yeah.” He sipped his juice. “I'll introduce you on Sunday because she goes to the same church. Actually, you should take her with you when you buy the van. She can give it the once over, make sure you're not being sold a dud.”

“Thank you, I'll do that.” Grace looked down at the empty plates. “I'll clear these away and bring in the pudding.”

He looked at the crutches. “I want to help, but…”

Grace squeezed his hand before letting go. “Give yourself a break. Oh, wait a sec, you already did.”

“Ha, ha, ha.”

She grinned. “Just let me help for once. You can do it next time.” She collected all the dishes and headed from the room.

Elliott pushed back into his chair and refilled his glass. He picked up the goblet, his fingers curving around the smooth surface. It had been a long time since he'd felt this unsettled, yet at the same time, he felt more settled than he ever had. The room brightened as Grace returned.

“I left Joel's in the fridge.”

“I'm not sure he deserves it. After all, he's not here.”

“True.”

He winked. “But I'm not that mean, and he loves chocolate as much as I do.” He ate a mouthful of his, his gaze riveted to Grace as she slowly licked the spoon.

“I thought I'd lost you when they said in church you'd been injured,” she said quietly. “The last words we'd exchanged were angry ones before you got hurt.”

He touched her hand. “I promise you, like I promised Joel, it won't happen again. At least not because of a stupid error on my part.”

“When do you go back to work?”

“Next week.” He scooped more chocolate onto the spoon. “You'll be surprised what I can accomplish sitting down or leaning against something.”

“Just be careful.” Her fingers brushed against his arm. “I don't want you getting injured again.”

“Of course. Not like I can climb a ladder the next few weeks anyway.”

She shook her head. “Incorrigible man.”

He studied her and realized with a shock that he wanted her…needed her to be a part of his life, but had no idea if she felt the same.

Grace held his gaze, then with gentle fingers slid his spoon away from him and dipped it into his pudding. She offered him a spoonful of the chocolate, unsure for a moment until he took it.

She looked so serious, yet a softness shone from within her.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

Grace took a deep breath. “I was wondering how you felt about marriage.”

“Marriage?” He searched her gaze. Her brown eyes were darker, even given the low level of light in the room. The candle flame flickered. “That's rather a leap from ladders and work.”

“Yeah, Faith always said I was the impulsive one, but feelings matter, right? I decided to stop running and go for what I want. I want you, Elliott. Will you marry me?”

Did she really say that? Did she mean it? It wasn't the kind of question a bloke normally got asked. The last time he'd checked, it was the bloke who did the asking, not the other way around. “Marry you?” he managed.