“I swear to you, I don’t know anyone named Thomas.”
“You lie!” she shouts, snapping the blades closed mere inches from the tip of my nose. I stumble backwards and fall flat on my ass.
A flash of light gray fills my vision, blocking my view of the shear-wielding pageant queen.
“Ethel, enough!” Winston bellows.
The gray has receded entirely from his features and limbs, and he’s fully corporeal. It’s not just his hand this time. It’s all of him. I’ve never seen him like this before.
He’s…holy shit. The man is stunning.
Like I suspected, he’s tall. Definitely over six feet. His shoulders are broad, and his arms are thick with layers of muscle. My gaze follows the ripple of his back muscles to his trim waist, and down to his adorably tiny but tight ass. It looks like I could fit the whole thing in one hand. Like two firm plums, just begging to be squeezed.
He’s wearing a billowy white shirt tucked into light brown tweed pants. The pants are tucked into black lace-up leather boots that look worn-in enough to be buttery soft. But the best part of his outfit, by far, are the suspenders.
I’ve only ever seen suspenders worn in a jokey, obnoxious kind of way, so I never found them attractive. However, the more I look at them crossing in the middle of his back and hugging his shoulders, the more I want to straddle him and hold on to those suspenders for dear life as I ride his dick.
Shit, what is wrong with me? Maybe I can chalk it up to the adrenaline of being almost attacked by the hot gardener.
“She’s not here for Thomas, okay?” Winston explains to this Ethel person. “She’s with me. This is Natalie. She’s…” I hear him swallow, “my wife.”
He turns to face me and offers a hand. I take it and whisper, “Your what now?” The scent of pine and woodsmoke wafts toward me as I stand, and it’s so comforting, it feels like he’s just wrapped me in a blanket.
“Go with it,” he replies under his breath.
“Wife? Why have I never seen her here before?” Ethel demands, still holding the shears blades out.
“She just moved in. It’s new,” Winston says, not sounding convincing at all.
“We’re very much in love,” I add, popping my head out behind Winston’s arm. Unfortunately, I don’t sound convincing either. The adrenaline is making my voice shaky. “It’s a p-pleasure to meet you, Ethel.” I’m still frazzled from the proximity of the blades to my face before Winston arrived, but I take a breath and plaster on a bright smile, hoping it shows Ethel that I’m not a threat.
Winston slowly reaches out to her, softening his tone. “I assure you, I wouldn’t let another woman looking for Thomas onto our property. You know that, right? Put the shears down, Ethel. Please.”
She drops them next to a cluster of ripe jalapeños, the blades sinking into the dirt. “My heavens,” Ethel says, fanning herself with her hand. “I’m sorry, Winston. I feel so foolish.” Her eyes grow wide with confusion as she surveys the garden, and then the rest of the property. Is she looking for Thomas? Is Thomas even a real person? “You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”
“Of course. There’s nothing to forgive. Just a mix-up,” Winston assures her. “My wife and I are going for a stroll around the lake. Have a good day, Ethel.”
Winston takes my hand and tugs me toward the woods behind the garden. I make a weak attempt to yank my hand back, but Winston’s grip is too strong, plus, what am I going to do? Walk back to the house and pass by Ethel alone? No, thanks.
Once we make it inside the tree line and are hidden from Ethel’s line of sight, I turn on Winston, ready to ream him for keeping Ethel a secret, but before I can, he pulls me into his arms and presses my head against his chest. “I’m sorry, Natalie,” he says against my hair. His hand is cradling the back of my head, while the other is rubbing slow circles over my back. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” He pulls back to look me over, worry knitting his brows together.
I’ve never seen him soafraid. I wasn’t sure it was an emotion he was capable of feeling, to be honest, but the way he’s looking at me now wipes the anger from my mind, and makes my bones feel like they’re starting to melt.
With such focused attention from him in his corporeal form, I can admire the boyish beauty of his face, without the gray mist blurring his features. The swirl of his green eyes stills me. Like I’m in a trance. The shade of green is closest to tourmaline, probably. A natural, plant-like green with hints of gold and dark gray, but with an unnatural heaviness that makes me wonder about his past. How I can help him overcome the pain that follows his every step.
His medium brown hair is swept neatly off his face, apart from one thick piece that falls in the middle of his forehead. His brows are thick and straight, making him look slightly annoyed all the time, which is a stark contrast to the softness of his eyes. He has a surprisingly straight nose, given the large bump on the bridge of it.
His lips are the real star here, though, with a plumpness that would inspire collagen injectors everywhere. In the center of those soft lips is a pointy Cupid’s bow, the V so dramatic that I want to trace it with my finger.
I watch his jaw muscles leap as he continues to assess me, and I realize the reason he’s starting to look even more concerned is because I’ve been eye-fucking him for who knows how long while he’s been waiting for an answer.
“I’m fine,” I tell him.
He’s not buying it, though. He grips my arms, rubbing them up and down. “You’re shaking. Come here.”
I suck in a breath, surprised as he pulls me back into his strong embrace. I sink into him, letting him hold me as his lips press against my hair.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I wonder how long it’s been since I’ve been held like this. Too long. I’m greedy for this kind of intimacy. His arms feel so safe, like nothing harmful could reach me here. Like he’s a mile-thick stone wall that not even grief could sneak past. A shiver rips through me at the feelof his breath on my ear, and he must think it’s still the shock of the encounter with Ethel wearing off, because he pushes a lock of hair behind my ear and whispers, “Shh. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
