I open the front door when I hear the foyer door snap closed. I step onto the landing just as Dean looks up.
A sizzle of energy arcs between us. My pulse zings through my veins at the sight of him—tall and handsome in a navy suit beneath his black coat. His hair gleams in the foyer lights, and a smile curves his mouth as he walks up the stairs to me, extending a bouquet of a dozen perfect red roses.
“Thank you.” I take the bouquet, the flowers’ perfume filling the air.
“If I’d thought about it earlier, I’d have recited a poem or something too.” Dean stops in front of me, his gaze filled with appreciation. “You’re so damned beautiful.”
“That’s all the poetry I need.” I stand on tiptoe to press my lips against his cheek. The scent of him slides into my blood—a hint of spicy aftershave mingling with the crisp night air.
“I love the puzzle,” I tell him.
“Good. One day soon I’ll take you to Paris again.” He tilts his head toward the street. “Ready?”
“Let me put the flowers in water and get my coat.” I gesture for him to come inside, while I go into the kitchen to find a vase.
After arranging the roses, I bring the bouquet into the living room. Dean is standing by the window, his hands in his pockets. The sight of him back in our apartment, right where he belongs, warms me down to my toes. With the town lights shining behind him, he’s so breathtakingly handsome that my heart does a little flip of happiness at the knowledge that he’s mine. All mine.
I set the vase on the coffee table and fuss a little more with the arrangement of the roses.
“Your peace lily bloomed,” Dean says.
“What?” I glance up.
“Your peace lily.” He tilts his head toward the open flower. “It’s pretty.”
I smile, pleased that he noticed. “It’s the same kind of plant I gave you that first time I went to your place for dinner.”
“I remember.” Warmth brews in his eyes as he returns his gaze to me. “That plant thrived because you took care of it the whole year.”
“And I thrived because you took care of me the whole year.”
Dean looks at me for a minute, then shakes his head. “Ah, Liv…”
I go to slide my arms around his waist, loving the hard press of his body against mine. He takes my hips in his hands, a murmur of pleasure rumbling from his chest as our lips meet.
“Let’s go, beauty,” he whispers, trailing his lips to my neck. “If we don’t leave now, my plan will be shot to hell.”
I laugh and untangle myself from him. We get our coats and walk to his car, and I’m so caught up in being with him again, breathing the same air, feeling the warmth of his presence beside me, that it’s a good half hour before I realize we’re heading out of Mirror Lake and up into the mountains.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You’ll see.”
It’s a cloudy, crisp evening with reddish clouds skimming the mountaintops. Dean guides the car over a narrow road toward a domed building sitting on the crest of a ridge.
“The observatory?” I don’t quite get it. “What are we doing here?”
“Dating.” He winks at me and offers me his arm.
With a smile, I slide my hand into the crook of his elbow as we walk toward the entrance to the building. There’s a truck parked nearby, though I can’t see the lettering on the side of it. Dean holds the door open for me, and we walk into the hushed silence of the lobby.
He pulls open the auditorium door, and all the breath escapes my lungs at the sight of the silent room lit by a million brilliant stars spread over the arched ceiling. Soft music plays from hidden speakers. It’s a singular, private universe, the stars and planets contained within this space, and for this moment, it’s all ours.
“How did you manage this?” I ask as Dean takes my hand and leads me to a cloth-covered table set up on the stage.
“Pulled a few strings,” he replies. “Closest I could get to giving you the universe.”
I smile. “Good one.”
“Wait here.”
A bouquet of spring flowers blooms on the table, which is set with china plates and wineglasses. A candle flickers, but the light can’t compete with the illumination of the stars. Dean returns a few minutes later with two delicious-smelling filet mignon dinners from the catering truck parked outside.
And under the dome of our own private universe, we spend a lovely hour eating and talking. My eyes keep straying to Dean’s mouth, the curve of his hand around his fork, the way the starlight glows off his hair.
I’m reminded anew of our very first date, which included our first kiss. Even now, my body tingles at the memory of the heat filling Dean’s eyes as he’d taken my face so gently in his hands.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he’d whispered, a second before our lips touched in a kiss that spun me into a whirlwind of knowing I could love this man.
That one day… I would.