Page 56 of Lovingly Restored

“You’ll see. Come on.”

He tows me along through the yard and I can barely keep up with his long strides. The afternoon smells like fresh cut grass and pollen. Isaac stops and I nearly crash into his sculpted back. Bathed in a pool of sunlight is a gorgeous, three-tiered garden bed made of, if I’m not mistaken, cedar. It’s filled to the brim with rich, dark soil, and the grass surrounding it has been mowed.

“What do you think?”

“Is…is it a project for work?” It’s so beautiful. I want to believe it might be for me…but it’s too much.

He scrunches his face up.

“Ashlyn, I made it for you,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The old garden beds are going to take ages to clear, and I want you to be able to plant those zinnias right away. They should be planted soon, right?”

His observation and this gesture touch me in a way I don’t expect, and I have to pretend the clouds are beyond interesting for a minute to keep the happy tears at bay.

“I used the cash that appeared in my underwear for the materials.”

Victory is written all over his face. I want to smack it right off, but I opt to swat his bare chest instead.

“First off, that was for the tow truck! Second,” I soften my voice, “this is the nicest thing I’ve ever had.”

He hugs me, and I really can’t think of a better place to be than against his warm chest in this overgrown yard behind this hundred-year-old house. This spot in the abundance of afternoon sun will be perfect for the zinnias this summer. But summer seems far away right now. Will I live here long enough to see them bloom? What if, tomorrow, the perfect place pops up? I’d be crazy not to take that opportunity, right? I push the thought away. It’s too painful to bear.

Back inside, I’m placing the last of the cold groceries in the fridge, arranging the pots of yogurt how I like them, when Isaac gasps.

“What!” I startle.

“Lucky CharmsandFroot Loops?“ He holds out the boxes before clutching them to his chest like newborn twins.

It’s stupidly adorable, and now I’m thinking about Isaac holding babies. Great.

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Yeah. So?”

“You got these for me.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“You know how much I like it. And now youreallylike me so…cereal.“ He shakes the boxes at me.

“Youmighthave been on my mind as I went down that aisle.”

“You’ve been on my mind a lot, too.” He sets down the precious boxes. “When I’m working, when I’m laying in bed at night, when I’m showering…”

I roll my eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Ashlyn Carter.”

“Or what?”

It’s my new favourite question to egg him on.

“Or I’ll pull you inside this pantry and have my way with you.”

I inhale and cover my mouth with my hand, eyes wide with false shock. “But what will the root vegetables think?”

I’m joking around to hide the fact I’m kinda freaking about what exactly that means. Are we about to fuck under the watchful gaze of the Quaker Oats guy?

“I’ll show you a root vegetable,” he says, stalking over to make good on his threat.

I shriek when he hauls my body flush against his, carrying me into the dim pantry. A single bare lightbulb swings from the ceiling, and the competing smells of spices tickle my nose. He smacks my butt hard and shoves me against a relatively empty section of shelving, a palm shielding the crown of my head. My ass stings, the thin leggings didn’t protect me from his playful swat. He wastes no time covering my mouth with a searing kiss. The night with the fire and wine was all kinds of romantic, but this is a whole other animal. Our teeth clink together, then I bite him on the lip hard enough to make him swear. Isaac’s erection is dead obvious through his jeans, the thick fabric unable to conceal the hardness pressing against my hip.

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