“You know,” she said at last, turning to face me with a soft smile on her lips, “I’ve lived in this area my entire life and never knew this place existed.”
“Well, it was a shit hole when I bought it,” I blurted.
A surprised laugh escaped her at my candor, and her eyes twinkled. “You’d never know it.”
“That’s kind of the point,” I grinned. “I needed a project when I moved here. This property was the perfect canvas.”
“How large is the lot?” she asked.
“Ten acres.”
She whistled low, moving toward the back of the cavernous living space, where a wall of windows and sliding glass door captured the view of the field and forest beyond my house. This time of year, the deciduous trees were just beginning to bud with fresh leaves, turning my backyard into a springy wonderland that mixed with the darker hues of the coniferous trees. The field stretched quite a ways, and Ella turned to me once again.
“How far back do you mow?”
An odd question, but I said, “About halfway. Just enough to give me some room to work if I need it. There’s actually a short fence back there, and that’s where I stop.”
“You should plant some wildflowers out there,” she said, almost absentmindedly. “That’d be so dreamy in the summertime. The sun sets back there, right?”
“Sure does,” I confirmed, nodding to the rocking chairs sitting on my back deck. It was still winterized, but once it warmed up some more—probably after we got back from our trip—I’d open it up again. “I sit out there with my coffee in the morning and bourbon at night.”
Ella sighed audibly, her shoulders relaxing away from her ears as she hugged herself. “It’s so quiet.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant it as a good or bad thing, but I said, “I like my solitude.”
Her eyes darted to me and held as she asked, “Doesn’t it get lonely?”
“Never,” I replied with a headshake. “There’s a reason I bought a place on the fringes of civilization, Wildflower. I like being alone. And after—” I choked on what Iwas going to say next, clearing my throat awkwardly and plowing ahead despite it. “I needed this space. This stillness.”
“Needed? Orneed?”
A great question. With her standing in front of me, I wasn’t sure anymore.
Unwilling to expose that closely guarded secret, I ignored the question and turned from the window, moving away from her and into the kitchen.
Ella followed me, gasping in surprise. “You cooked?”
I snorted. “What, like it’s hard?”
“Did you just…Legally Blondeme?”
“Maybe,” I grinned. “But to answer your first question: yes, Ella. I cooked.”
It wasn’t anything fancy, certainly not an Ezra Wendt-worthy meal, but I knew my way around the kitchen enough to put together a fairly decent chicken marsala and salad.
“You are…” She gnawed on her bottom lip as she searched for something to say, and my eyes locked in on that spot. My entire body hummed with how badly I wanted to tug it free, to pass my tongue over the spot, soothing it before slipping into her mouth.
I hated how badly I wanted to taste her.
More so because I knew I’d likely never get the chance.
“You’re not at all like I thought you were,” she said, at last finishing her thought.
I chuckled. “I can assure you, Wildflower, I’m every bit who everyone else thinks I am.”
I plated the food and walked it to my dining room table, erring on the side of caution and placing the dishes opposite each other. I didn’t dare give myself the chance to sit next to her and spendthe next however long breathing in her scent and experiencing her warmth. I needed a solid slab of wood between us.
As she trailed behind me, Ella vehemently shook her head. “I don’t think that’s true at all. Everyone in town says you’re a reclusive, grumpy bastard, but I don’t see it.”
