Page 8 of The Lonely Hearts Guide

“In Dallas.”

His eyes widened. “I live in Dallas, too.”

It felt like Elliot’s heart was going to leap out of his chest. Alexander lived just down the street. Well, in the same city, at least. And at the moment, he was still within reach; though Elliot didn’t understand why he felt the need to reach for him. His mind raced, trying to think of ways Elliot mightaccidentallybump into Alexander in Dallas, but he came up short. When Jared left for work each day, he forced Elliot to power himself down. Being powered down meant any chance at popping out of the house and running into Alexander was slim to none. Maybe if he simply pretended to power himself down. But then, if Jared found out, there would be hell to pay.

“Would you like to see each other again? Back home, I mean,” Alexander asked. Elliot believed he would have liked that very much, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work. Alexander quickly looked away, his cheeks red with the sting of rejection, even though Elliot hadn’t meant to reject him.

“Home,” Elliot whispered.

“Home?”

“I have one, but it isn’t a good home.” The words felt like glass shards digging at the lining of his throat. An immense wave of shame hit him, leaving him breathless. He shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t something he was supposed to say. Not to anyone. Certainly not to Alexander. “I don’t think Jared would allow us to socialize.”

When Alexander’s hand found his and squeezed, Elliot could tell Alexander wanted to pry. Alexander’s face was a myriad of emotion, conflicting and contorting his frown to a smile that sent a sense of calmness through him, soothing his nerves.

“What would make a good home for you?” Alexander asked, catching Elliot off guard.

“I beg your pardon?”

“If you could picture the perfect home, what would it be?”

Elliot paused, considering the question. He didn’t understand Alexander’s reason for asking, but he already asked it, and Elliot knew he wanted an answer.

Home.

When it came to homes, Elliot had only known a few. Jared’s mansion in Dallas. The home of Arthur and Periwinkle Price, though they’d sold it a few months prior. Then there was his first home. His true home. With Mother and all her bountiful beaus. God, Elliot missed it.

“I was created in New Orleans. My mother raised me for the first year of my life. Well, it was almost a year, I wish it had been longer. I used to go down to the swamps and sit on the dock, watching all the fascinating creatures. The water was always very peaceful; so I believe my perfect home would need to be near a swamp. Or maybe any water source would do.” Elliot sighed, disappointed at his own indecision. “I apologize, Alexander. I can’t say I’ve given this much thought.”

“You’re doing great,” Alexander reassured him. “So, your perfect home would be on the water. What else?”

“My home now is big and cold and uninviting. Everything has its place, and it mustn’t be moved. It makes me feel on edge. I believe I’d like to live somewhere small. Somewhere cozy, where I wouldn’t have to worry about items being placed in spaces that aren’t meant for them.”

“A little cottage, perhaps?”

Elliot nodded. “That could be cozy. And it would have to have a garden, because the days when I can garden are my favorite days of all.” He sucked in a sharp breath, because Elliot had been traveling to Sugarplum Island every Sunday for months. He didn’t want it getting back to Miss Twylah that he enjoyed gardening more than visiting her lovely shop. “I love the days I come to Sugarplum Island, too, but there’s something about digging my fingers into the earth and planting a seed that calms me. You get to watch life grow. It’s not a big life, but it’s still something I can create from nothing. My flowers depend on me, and I think I depend on them just as much.”

Alexander gave him a nod. “All right, a small home on the water and a garden. What else would you like?”

Elliot wondered what purpose Alexander’s inquisition held, but he’d been very nice to Elliot so far, so he indulged the man. “An automobile, maybe. Jared used to allow me to drive and I always enjoyed it.”

“What kind of car?”

Elliot shrugged. “Something small. It wouldn’t need to be anything large like a pickup truck, but I think I’d like the tires to have those pretty, white circles around the wheel. I used to see those on vehicles when I went up in town. They seem very fancy. I saw a few with gold on the side, but they looked tacky.”

“Agreed. White walls are gorgeous on the right car,” Alexander said, and then, as if he was acting on instinct rather than rationality, Alexander wrapped an arm around Elliot’s shoulder and led him onward. Maybe he should have, but Elliot didn’t pull away.

“Will you tell me about yourself?” Elliot asked after a long stretch of silence.

“I can do that,” he said, squeezing Elliot’s arm and making him feel all tingly inside. “Well, I was born in Missouri, but my family relocated to Texas as a child.”

“Why did you relocate?”

“My dad,” Alexander answered. “He owned a property development company, and after making it big in the Midwest, he wanted to strike while the iron was hot, as they say.”

Elliot looked up at him. “As who says?”

“Well, my father, for one, but it’s just an expression. After he died, I took over the company. I’ve been at it for a little over a decade.”

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