Page 47 of Putting Down Roots

“I’m so proud and pleased to be with you, Luca. I’m happy to let the world know that.” I feel a surge of love for him, a tidal wave of feeling. Anna’s right. I am drowning in him and I’m happy to be there—he’s my anchor.

The hedge walk gives way to a sunken garden. There are a number of small shrubs which border the paths, but the thing—or rather, things—which catch my attention, are the statues. There are perhaps a dozen or more of them dotted about, and they’re beautiful. They depict scenes of Greek gods.

“Oh!” I can’t help myself. I look over at Jackson and he’s grinning at me. He knew what my reaction was going to be. I think he planned the entire visit so I can see them.

I wander off among them, trailing my fingers over the stonework, needing to feel them under my touch.

Jackson watches me, but after a while he comes over to stand next to me.

“Beautiful aren’t they?”

I’m pretty much lost for words but manage an, “Exquisite. You planned this for me to see them, didn’t you?” He grins his answer at me.

“I wanted them to be a surprise. I wanted to watch your reaction when seeing them for the first time.”

“Thank you. They’re fantastic.”

“I was thinking we might do something similar at Larchdown.” My heart hitches at the “we” in that statement. I love that he thinks of Larchdown as home. I’m pleased, as I have plans to make that more permanent.

“Statues? Yes, that would be great.”

“I was thinking they could rise out of the meadow.”

“A garden of gods?” I’m getting excited at the thought. “Also, what about having them in bronze?” I know someone who could make them.

“Luca, sometimes you’re a genius.” Jackson puts his arm around me, and I lean against him while we gaze up at a frieze of Hercules. He presses a kiss into my hair and I don’t think I’ve felt happier in my life.

I fully allow myself to enjoy the rest of the gardens. The rose gardens are just coming into full bloom and are stunning. The house isn’t open to the public, but we’re allowed on the terrace, which gives a view over the entire gardens. They’re superb.

It’s late afternoon when we head back home, and I tell Jackson about the artist I know who could make some statues.

“I guess you want these to all be fit, male gods?” He quirks an eyebrow at me.

“You could model for one,” I suggest. His laugh is like an ocean wave on a summer’s evening, reassuring and warm.

As we get closer to home, I begin to feel hungry. Maybe it’s being out in the fresh air all day.

“Shall we call into The Arms for something to eat?” I ask.

He looks at me in genuine surprise.

“Not what I had in mind, but yes, that’s a great idea.” He swings the van into the carpark.

“What did you have in mind?”

He smiles. “Oh, we’ll get to that later.”

Throughout the meal, Jackson gazes at me intensely, like he’s undressing me with his eyes. It’s insanely hot and I’m looking forward to getting home—I want to know what he has in mind. We skip dessert and suddenly it’s like he can’t take any more.

“Drink up Luca, we’re going.” I drain my wine glass and spring after him. He’s waiting for me outside, by the van. As I reach him, he presses me up against it and kisses me hard. My knees go weak as I kiss him back, a day’s worth of pent-up desire threatening to bubble over. I’m breathless, and I tilt my head back as he kisses down my jaw and neck. I love gentle, trustworthy Jackson, but I also love the more primal, animalistic Jackson too. He’s grinding his hips into mine and I feel his need. I move, trying to get some friction myself.

His mouth hovers near my ear, and he almost growls.

“Let’s go home. I want you to fuck me.”

Then his lips, his hands, his hips are gone. I’m left bereft of them and it feels like I haven’t felt his touch in a year. I yearn for it.But also, my mind is swirling.Did he say what I think he said?I don’t have time to dwell‚—he’s in the van and revving it ready to go. I pull all the threads of my being that he’s unwound with his touch, together, and climb in.

I’m still dumbstruck when he stops the van in front of the house. He starts to get out, but I don’t move. He shuts the door and turns to me.