Page 11 of Marrying the Gardener
Crisis slaps her hands to her hips, drawing Viktor’s eyes to the action. “Oh? Can’t you? Fine. No problem. I’ll just askmyhusband myself.”
“Crisis,” I implore, “that’s why I’ve called this meeting.”
Drama incarnate, she lays a hand to chest. “So you could shatter my heart into a million pieces?”
“So I could explain what I can and ask for cooperation.”
“Start explaining.”
Where to begin? Sighing, I rub my neck, scratch the short hairs at the base, and look down at the carpet. “I have been harboring feelings for Crimson ever since I first saw her.”
Maelin gasps, covering her mouth with her hands. Zakery mimics her action with added theatrical flare and mischievous eyes, because he will never not be my younger brother.
Ignoring him, I press on, “Crimson believes I’m the gardener at the Bachelor estate, not a Bachelor myself.”
“Shut up,” Crisis snaps. “She does not.”
I roll my eyes back to her. “It appears that no one mentioned I was a long-lost brother to her.”
“But…your hair!” Crisis references my dark hair’s low fadewith a flick of her wrist.
“Not everyone with dark hair is related to us.” I present Mealin’s twin sister. “Morana, for instance.”
Kyran’s eyes heat, then close as he settles deeper into his seat.
Morana scoffs. “Lies. I’ve been adopted for a whole week. It hurts to learn you don’t think of me as your sister yet.”
I am surrounded by impossible people.
Closing my fingers, I smile. “Not everyone with dark hair is blood-related to the Bachelors, even if everyone present has been assimilated into the family. It’s widely known that there are four brothers. Whatever way Crimson has reached the conclusion that I’m just your gardener doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’d like for her to continue believing it.”
“You want me tolieto myhusband?” Crisis’s nostrils flare, impertinent.
“I’d like you to speak about me to Crimson as much as you’ve always spoken about me to Crimson, which is apparently not very much. Rest assured in the knowledge that I am allowing her to use me at her own request. I am not at liberty to provide more details, but this is important to her. I can tell what she’s doing is something she’s put a lot of thought into. Whatever happens going forward, I don’t want to be the reason her plans fail.”
“And it just so happens her plans involve marrying you?” Viktor asks, brows heavy.
I nod.
“I don’t like the idea of keeping things from Crimson,” Crisis says. “I also don’t like the idea of you knowingly lying to her about who you are. That’s a recipe for disaster. Have you never read a romance novel?”
“I tend to stick to fairytales, which teach me that as long as I’m kind and don’t trust strangers, I should be okay.”
Crisis rolls her eyes.
I knew she’d be the hardest one to convince. As far as fairytale friendships go, Crisis and Crimson surpass every one I’ve ever read about. “Please, Crisis. We both want what’s best for Crimson. You’ll have to trust me when I say that means not telling her who I am right now and acting like you mostly don’t know me if our paths cross during this.”
“When will you tell her the truth? I want your entire plan outlined, via Canva Whiteboard.”
“It’s not my plan to outline, and I’m legally under a non-disclosure agreement that makes even this much discussion precarious.”
“This is serious?” Viktor asks.
“Yes.” So serious that Crimson has put on paper in a formal document that it’s okay for me tomanhandle her. This vie for her freedom is one she is selling her sanity for. And I will do everything in my power to make sure I’m not the one to mess it up.
“How are you gonna get married?” Crisis juts her lip. “She’s gonna see that your name is KalebBachelor.”
“My legal documents actually say Kaleb Charter. I…” I drop my attention off my family. “…had to get new ones when I left, and the person who took me in knew how to pull strings. She had experience scooping up lost boys.”
