Page 62 of Guarded from Havoc

Plus, I know Ally and Julia would approve.

But sadly, Erik doesn’t leap on me, kissing me breathless and peeling my dress from my body.

Instead, he blinks. Takes a few deep breaths and lets them out slowly. He surreptitiously adjusts himself. “Not yet,” he says, more to himself.

After another slow exhale, he continues, “First, your gift. Then dinner. And the movie. Matt arranged it so we can watch any of the movies in theaters right on your TV. I know you’re not into thrillers right now, but I guess there’s a romcom that’s supposed to be pretty good. Or at least, that’s what Lucy said when she recommended it.”

“I cooked,” I add. “Baked ziti. It’s in the oven now. Plus cookies for dessert.”

Erik’s eyebrows go up. “Cookies?”

“Peanut butter chocolate chip. I didn’t have the ingredients for the fudge to dip them in, but I thought these would be okay for now.”

A smile lights up his face. It spreads to his eyes, turning them to a sun-touched ocean. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did.”

“Tate.” It’s thick with emotion. “You’re incredible. Did you know that?”

“Not as incredible as you,” I retort.

For a second, we both smile at each other, our gazes saying more than simple words.

A spark ofsomethingarcs between us.

Desire. Trust. Affection. Hope.

Yes, it’s soon.

No, I haven’t known Erik long.

But my heart doesn’t care. My heart is telling me this is the one man I shouldn’t let go.

“Your present,” Erik says abruptly. Spots of pink appear on his cheeks, which is so contrary to his tough-guy exterior, it might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. He sets the gift bag on the table and gives me an eager, hopeful smile. “I hope you like it. I don’t have much practice buying gifts for women, aside from my friends’ partners. And Rhi, of course. But that’s different.”

As I pull the sheets of tissue paper from the bag, he adds, “It’s not romantic. But I thought it might be something you’d enjoy using.”

Peering into the bag, at first, I can’t tell what I’m looking at. It just looks like a large, canvas bag with shiny bits of metal stuffed into it.

But once it’s out, I know exactly what he got me.

It’s a gardening kit.

Silver gardening tools—scoops and forks and trimmers in a range of sizes—are tucked into the pockets of the canvas bag. Stuffed inside it is a matching foam cushion to kneel on, along with a women’s-sized apron to wear instead of the giant one of Erik’s I’ve been borrowing.

It’s so thoughtful, I can barely stand it.

In fact, I can feel tiny prickles of tears stinging my eyes, and I have to blink quickly to keep them at bay.

“There’s more,” Erik says. “Inside the bag.”

Following his gaze, I reach back inside, this time pulling out two gardening books, one on growing flowers, the other vegetables.

“Erik.” I sniff against those insistent tears. Hugging the bag to my chest, I add, “I love this. It’s perfect.”

“I know I can teach you a lot of it. The flowers and vegetable part, I mean. But I thought you might like to look through it yourself. See if there are any special flowers you want to add tothe garden. There are sections on growing plants by region. So you can pick ones that’ll grow well in Texas.” He pauses. “Or in New York.”

Just hearing him say the wordsNew Yorkis painful. Though I haven’t been here long, already, I don’t want to think about leaving. Do I want the case resolved? Of course. Going back to Tupper Lake and leaving Erik?ThatI’m much less excited about.

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