Page 30 of Putting Down Roots

Anna turns to face us on the path, her hands on her hips.

“Yes you have. Your mind was made up as soon as Mr smouldering-good-looks here,” she waves a hand at Jackson, “Said it was possible.”

It’s true, of course, but I sometimes hate how well she knows me. Jackson just smirks.

“So, like I said, there is much to do.” She strides off again, back to the house. One of Anna’s strengths—apart from railroading people into doing what she wants—is project management.

Once in the kitchen and sitting round the central island with coffees distributed, I bring up the elephant in the room.

“This is all very well Anna, but you’re going to the States. In fact, why are you still here?” I’m sure she said she was going back to London today to start packing. I’ve been planning to ask Jackson to stay.

“I have a few more days in hand. I can help you get started here first. My flight isn’t until next week.”

I look at Jackson.

“Are you up for this?”

He gives me the biggest grin and replies, “Let’s do it.”

A little later,when Jackson is passing me in the kitchen to head out to the garden, I catch hold of his hand, linking my fingers through his.

“I’m sorry. Do you mind waiting a little longer? Until Anna has gone, I mean?”

He gives a little laugh.

“Can she do that? Can she just invite herself to stay for a few more days?”

“I didn’t invite her in the first place,” I sigh, “But I wonder how you can ask that now that you’ve met her.”

He chuckles, “True, true.”

Then he brushes his lips across my forehead and whispers,

“I can wait Luca. I’ve waited my whole life for you.”

CHAPTER 25

Jackson

I go backto the pub to shower and change before heading back to the house, as we want to work on the plans for opening the gardens. Luca suggests I shower there, but I have no clean clothes on me. I take a few back with me for future days—it seems logical.

I’ve finally told Darla I’m working up at the house. She already knows of course—there are no secrets kept in a small village.

Luca has cooked dinner, which surprises me, given how uninterested he is in food. But I’ve noticed him eating more recently. I hope it’s the effect of the fresh air and work he’s doing. It’s certainly a very pleasant stir fry, and he looks pleased that I like it. I’d love to cook for him and Anna, and the offer is accepted for tomorrow night.

We’re brainstorming ideas and creating a list of tasks for the garden.

“Are there plans for the garden?” I ask.

“Plans?” Luca looks thoughtful.

“As a horticulturist, I’m sure your aunt would have had plans of the garden—not only the design, but also what was planted where. If she had them, where would they be?”

“Probably the study.” Anna leads the way. I’m struck again by Luca’s sketches—by how talented he is. I can’t take my eyes off them. Which is good, as otherwise I’d be staring at the desk, remembering the feeling of leaning against it with Luca’s mouth round my cock. Then I realise Iamstaring at the desk. I glance at Luca and he’s watching me. He smiles. I’m sure I blush.

“When you boys have stopped making cow eyes at each other, can you help me look?” Anna sighs. She has her back to us, she hasn’t even turned around.How does she do that?

Eventually, we track down the plans, rolled up into cylinders and in the bureau on the back wall. We turn the dining room into a workroom, rolling out the plans on the large table, holding them down with candlesticks and ornaments.

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