Monthly Bonus Content #3: ‘Conversational Hearts' (Reese Version) (Patreon)

[Alternate Text: The header image is of a bowl of heart-shaped candies with a few scattered on a marble countertop. The candy tends to be in pastel shades with red or pink writing on each one. ‘Conversational Hearts‘ acts as the title in a soft pink font that is similar to cursive writing. ]

[TFS Patrons, please be sure to see this post about adding my email address to your contacts so you can enjoy the RO character portraits. I haven't heard back from some of you, and I would like to make certain you have the portraits to enjoy. 🥰]

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"Don't worry, these are the last few."

Sofia's reassurance is accompanied by the all too familiar crinkle of plastic goodie bags as she piles a few more on your workspace. You offer an affable smile to her. "It's no trouble," you reply, already beginning to unspool some of the assorted ribbons. There is no telling how many bows you have tied off throughout today.

At least 50, possibly over a hundred or more, all in varying shades of pink, red, white, and silver.

Mrs. Dorran's idea to create valentines for members of the community who don't typically receive them has become a group project. You watch as Sofia retreats back to Jane, who is filling each goodie bag according to a precise checklist. Beckett has been assisting with the treats by helping Mrs. Dorran coat things in chocolate or bake cookies. Locating Reese is harder because he flits around to each workstation to check the progress before arranging the finalized valentines in delivery boxes.

He hasn't been staying still for very long.

His antsy energy is something you detected as soon as he arrived at the B&B, intent on getting his assignment from Mrs. Dorran to help out.

Your shared hello seemed like an afterthought.

"What is the damage?"

Reese's voice comes from just behind where you sit on the couch, though he nimbly vaults over the back of it before you can turn around. It is a wonder he was able to seamlessly do that while in dress pants, but there is no rip of fabric as he settles into a spot by your side. He has yet to look directly at you; his eyes train on your idle hands. A half-formed, magenta bow rests in your palm like a wind-beaten flower rather than what should tie together a present.

It suddenly feels incriminating…

"The 'damage' is the same as last time you asked. Two tiny paper cuts and some glitter under my nails," you answer. His expression grows dubious when you continue to stall with the ribbon, awkwardly creating a clumsy loop instead of the required bow-knot. Reese plucks it from your grasp without a word, setting it far out of reach before you can start to protest, but he must sense your disagreement. "I—"

"Your fingers are stiff," he interjects. "So, no."

Reese hooks his index finger around your own, curling it upwards in a way that forces you to feel the tension in the bend of your knuckle. It's a targeted action. Years of piano playing must have allowed him to learn techniques that help maintain dexterity in his hands while soothing any pain. He might be trying to make a point, but you're more distracted by the touch. The natural coolness to his skin actually makes the subtle aches in your hand stand out. "Fine…"

Your reluctant agreement to give up the ribbon tying duty earns a pleased smile from Reese.

"Very good."

He murmurs the compliment before setting to work on the remaining bows; aside from him checking on you, the two of you haven't talked much.

Is he really this wrapped up in the project?

Your observation of Reese's side profile comes to a premature end when Mrs. Dorran bustles into the living room. She waves her clipboard with obvious excitement; you can see the line of large, red X's from your spot. It's finally over.

"This is the last delivery!" she declares.

The couch cushions beside you subtly dip right before Reese rises from them, though it was closer to a little hop. He hands the finished goodie bags to Sofia before just as quickly glancing over at you with some measure of quiet anticipation, except his playful smile seems a little weak around its edges rather than alight with mischief. "What?" you wonder.

"I have something for you. I was waiting."

"Badly," Sofia quips from across the room.

"He lasted longer than I thought," Jane adds.

This explains why Reese was so antsy; he isn't very patient, so creating gifts for others when he had one for you may have been maddening.

…Except you aren't officially a couple, so why…?

"It's simply a token," Reese continues speaking after directing a flimsy warning look at the others. "A gag gift or something similar. I even gave your friend a chocolate heart, seeing as you two are still relative newcomers to town." Niggling nerves may be threading through his perfectly reasonable explanation, undermining it into an excuse or a justification. He checks his front pocket, freezing when it's empty, but he raises a single finger to ask for a moment of your patience. Reese hurriedly pats down the rest of his pockets, even moving to check the hidden ones in his suit jacket before searching around the living room with increasing unease.

"Reese, retrace your steps."

Jane's advice goes unacknowledged by him, while Sofia begins to look for the lost gift too.

You leave your spot on the couch, unsure what to be on the lookout for, but it's obvious that he is becoming more incensed about this.

"What're you all looking for?"

Beckett's question draws the attention of the room to him, which is unfortunate when he has a tiny box of something in his hand and a fresh plate of cookies in the other. It's likely themed candy. You don't get a chance to fill him in on the issue because Reese strides over to check.

"Visitor, if you intentionally ate them, I will…"

"He wouldn't eat them," Sofia intervenes to prevent Reese's unfinished statement from veering off into a cutting threat. It shouldn't, but he's clearly unsettled. "I don't believe anyone would try to since they are so… personalized." She carefully selects the word.

He got you 'personalized', heart-shaped candy?

It feels like there is more to it than that from the way Jane awkwardly clears her throat before supporting Sofia's reasoning with fact.

"Each bag had a box of conversational hearts, which means you could have misplaced it…"

"Detective, you filled the bags."

"Yours would have looked like all the others."

"But the insides are explicitly different."

"I didn't open each box to check the candy."

Beckett raising his hand doesn't stop the back and forth between Reese and Jane, but Mrs. Dorran indicating him while fixing them with a gently stern stare gives him the floor to speak.

"Uhm, what's so bad about the hearts?"

Reese disregards that question, pointedly looking anywhere but at you as he retrieves his car keys. "Fancy an evening drive, [Surname]? You can charm the old folk at the center while I confiscate the tailored treats."

He does meet your eyes when asking for help, but his smile isn't as effortless as usual. Your curiosity about the gift combined with your amicable disposition makes this choice an easy one, but more importantly, you will get to spend some alone time with Reese. "Sure."

His smile becomes a touch warmer, although it's short-lived as he ushers you out the door.

. . .

. .

.

[A Short, but Undoubtedly Fast, Drive Later…]

"Oh! Mister Verner, good evening."

The attendant presiding over the dining room barely contains his shock at seeing a Verner on the premises of the Verner Memory Center. It makes sense considering Reese's family funds this operation, but you offer him an encouraging smile to lessen the nerves you saw creep up in most of the staff you hurried past. You aren't here to do a pop-in inspection.

This place would probably pass them all.

Soft, classical music plays from somewhere within the room that looks closer to a miniature ballroom than the dining area in a home for aging loved ones. There may be a history to this building's bones; it's too ornate. You notice the Valentine's Day decorations hanging from the ceiling in garlands of red and white. Your focus nearly strays to a few floating cupids, but you're supposed to be looking for reactions.

Specifically, if someone is horribly confused about their oddly personalized valentine treat.

"They all seem sleepy…"

"Reese," you stage-whisper. "Don't be rude."

"What? I would be too if I just indulged in a feast."

You see the truth to his observation as you scan the hall that still smells of fresh bread and something zesty like a fruit dish. Aside from a few scattered card or chess games, the diners seem to be relaxing with conversation, dozing off, or reading. The goodie bags were handed out as after dinner treats, but there is a chance the one with your gift might be unopened.

You hear her before you see her.

An honest, full-belly laugh comes from a far corner of the room, accentuating a crescendo in the music as the woman chuckles without any care in the world. Marjorie is seated by a small lamp. She is inspecting something under the light before again dissolving into laughter.

The two of you move closer to assess the source.

Candy hearts of varying sizes litter a napkin in front of the old woman, who seems to be playing a game with them. Hues of color have been exactingly arranged into loops with the lobes and tips nesting into each other. It's a pattern. Conversational hearts are more for the aesthetic than they are for their chalky, sweet taste that only offers dull hints of fruit flavor, but you still wonder why she is sorting them all.

More importantly, 'Bite Me Hard' isn't a standard message on the boxed candy; these are yours. Reese must have specially designed both the compliments and the insinuation-filled advances on them as a joke, although you also spy one about your eye color. It's tempting to keep reading them; he even remarked on your style.

"Excuse me, but those are actually mine. I do apologize for the mix-up with your valentine."

Marjorie shakes out another candy from the box, either oblivious or ignoring Reese's stiff apology.

"Ma'am?" you address her. "Hello?"

"I've been waiting, [Name]," she replies, lightly tapping her finger against the part of the box that has your last name spelled out in elegant script. "It does me good to see a familiar face as well." Her lips are still faintly quirked from the previous laughter, though she offers a soft smile to Reese when she gets a solid look at him. "This is the most fun I've had on this day in years. No apologies are necessary at all!"

Reese seems surprised by the unexpected kindness, nodding absently until you nudge him to speak. "Thanks for understanding."

This averts all of the worst scenarios you had conjured up on the ride over, a happy ending.

"Child, you have quite the way with words, but I feel this one stood out the most even if it's not vividly descriptive." Marjorie extends her hand, unfurling her fingers to reveal a brilliantly white heart that has dusky lavender writing etched into it. She moves her hand when Reese tries to reach for it. "Not for you." Her concentration falls on you before her smile turns knowing.

You take the candy, reading it in seconds, but needing far more time to process its earnest request as Reese dares to meet your eyes.

He looks uncertain for once, caught between flashing a teasing smile to play this off as a joke or letting a sliver of vulnerability shine through.

'Be Mine.'

That is what the heart says, but what will you say?