Page 82 of Marrying the Gardener
I kiss her fingers. “That just means it needs some exercise.”
“Give me something to go off of before I agree. Please. Some actionable step that makes it feel like I’m not losing all control.”
Without lifting my head, I say, “I need you to file for divorce. I need a list of your father’s clients. I need your phone. And I need a week.”
Her fingers tighten. Calculating moments pass. Finally, she says, “I don’t understand.”
Head still bowed, I meet her eyes. Gold glitters in them, sparkling like galaxies. Gentle, I say, “My love…it would not be trust if you did.”
Two tears slip down her cheeks, dampening her freckles. A shuddering breath fills her. Then she nods. “Will you need my phone all week?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
Her head shakes, and her nails bite into me as she crushes my hand. “It wouldn’t be exercise…if it were easy.”
My eyes burn as I rise and envelop her in a hug. “I love you.”
“I…” She buries herself against me, clutching my shirt. “…trust you.”
Capturing her mouth, I linger in the kiss, then I wait while she gathers what I asked for, then…I leave, knowing the next time I see her, I’ll have been served.
This deal we forged a little over a month ago will be on its way to officially being closed out, leaving me open to propose, the right way.
As a Bachelor, with—hopefully—the key to her freedom…if she’ll take it.
?
“Viktor.” With my own phone pressed to my ear, I scroll through Crimson’s contacts, connecting them with her father’s clients on the sheets she printed off for me before I called a cab. In ten minutes, I’ll be back home. Which means I have ten minutes to convince Viktor to drop everything and help me for the next seven days.
“Crisis isn’t here right now,” he says.
“I’m calling to talk to you.”
Silence. Pending silence. After several long moments, Viktor asks, “Is everything all right?”
Blowing out a breath, I tackle my own issues withneedingsupportand say, “Yes. Sort of. I need…help.”
He doesn’t pause. Doesn’t flinch. He just says, “Tell me everything.”
I’m still in the middle of telling Viktoreverythingby the time the car pulls up in front of the Bachelor house, and I hear the echo of my own voice on the line when I meet Viktor at the top of the stairs. Feeling for the first time in years like his younger brother, I meet his eyes, swallow, and hang up my phone. “So? Will it work?”
“You’ll need a website,” Kyran murmurs from beyond the cracked door behind Viktor. A spark of electricity lights in his ice blue eyes. “I love websites. Looks like we’re teaming up again, Zakery.”
Zakery beams. “Maelin can model for us this time.”
“Um. I’d rather not,” Maelin calls, deeper in. “But…is there anything else I can do to help?”
Viktor takes the sheets of paper from my hands, scans them, and nods. “It looks like we have a lot of people to contact. I’ll call Crisis.” The hard line of his lips softens as he meets my eyes and clamps his free hand to my shoulder. “Don’t worry. We will make it work.”
A frisson of heat starts in my chest, sending prickles out to my limbs. “Thank you.”
Viktor’s smile heals some cowering child inside me before he drops his attention back to the pages and sighs. “You know Crimson’s not going to be thrilled about this, right? I’ve offered to help her countless times, with less effort.”
“She doesn’t want to gamble with someone else’s money or take someone else’s efforts as her own, but this—” I touch a finger to the pages. “—this would be a direct result of her own effort. And if she hates me for doing this, it will already be too late. She’ll be free. That’s all that matters.”
Viktor scans me, then rubs his stubble. “Make sure you’reclear when you tell her that this is just what family does. At any time. For any reason. Family is just there for you, willing to help, and willing to welcome you with open arms.”
“I…will.” I stuff down a lump of emotion rising in my throat and repeat, “Thank you, Viktor.”
