Page 22 of Marrying the Gardener
By now, the entire house knows I’m with a man. When I have not once been with one before. And, you know, when I have also never hired one.
I exist in a monastery of women, safe and cozy away from leers and mansplains.
Away from the way Kaleb’s looking at me right now.
“Am I supposed to say something?” I whisper, so softly.
Kaleb’s smile takes me by surprise moments before he shakes his head. “She’s probably gone now.” Sitting up, he stretches, and I stare at his back. “Sorry about that.”
My flesh prickles, so I bury my nails in my arm. “No. No need to apologize. This…is exactly what I’ve asked for.”
He peers back at me over his shoulder. “I still hate how uncomfortable it made you. How uncomfortableImake you.”
If I put all the men I’ve ever known in a row, I think Kaleb would settle somewhere closer to the Bachelor brothers and far, far away from my family. I’ve already determined that I wouldn’t be able to handle him without the help of a weapon, and my bedroom kitchen knife is nowhere in reach, yet I’m okay.
After what we’ve been doing for the past thirty minutes, I’m nauseous butokay.
I let myself smile, even though it’s frail. “For the record, you don’t make me uncomfortable—men do. I appreciate every effort I see you making. It’s noticed and valued.”
Standing, Kaleb faces me, expression unbelievably warm. “You’re a beautiful person, Crimson. It’s an honor to work with you.”
Professional, professional.
“Just so you know, though,” I tell him, “if youever‘good girl’ me in casual conversation, I will remove at least two, possibly up to five, of your organs.”
Laughter gently lifts the harrowing distress in his eyes, and he says, “Noted.”
Chapter 7
?
I hate everything about this.
Crimson
Smiling in a way I hope implies that I’m “in love,” I kiss Kaleb’s cheek and sigh against his chest—which is bare, because he said not having a shirt on is a veryarrogant guymove. I don’t like it, but I do, of course, agree. My father would often meander around topless as though anyone wanted to see his beer belly.
With untoned firmness boasting the presence of hidden abs, Kaleb might have something worth showing off, but still. It is beyond arrogant to be half-naked in a house full of women, and it’s clear that my youngest staff member, Charlotte, isn’t having a good time. Her face blistered as red as her curls the second Kaleb plodded down the stairs with me and I began the charade of presenting his new home to him.
Clearly, a man showing off anywhere at any time is an unwelcome experience.
“What do you think, Kaleb darling?” I ask, muting the undercurrents of disgust that plague me for allowing a man to invade the sanctity of my home and disrupt the peace of my girls.
It’s so we’ll all have a future that’s safer.
I know that.
I know that, but it still hurts.
Eyes sparkling, Kaleb presses me over the island counter in my kitchen and taps a somewhat patronizing little kiss to my nose. “Our home is beautiful, baby,” he says, glancing toward where Charlotte has been uncomfortably lingering in the archway, large eyes burdened with questions and concern. “Ithink we’ve teased the help long enough, don’t you?”
When their eyes lock, Charlotte gasps and darts out of sight in a fit of short red curls.
“I think they want to meet me.” He chuckles. “And it’s well past time for introductions.”
Charlotte peeks back around the corner, and Kaleb takes the opportunity tosnap his fingers at her. “Girl, gather the rest of the staff in the parlor at once.” His attention slips toward a bottle of wine on a rack I keep stocked for when I’m entertaining select guests, and he lifts my chin on the tip of his finger. “While we wait for everyone, you can pour me a drink.”
I’d flinch if Charlotte weren’t still watching us.
