“I need to hear you say that you want me.”
This man is a sorcerer. I tried to end things between us, and yet here I am telling him I want to be a couple. “I want you,” I admit. “I want you so bad, I can’t stand it. But this isn’t like the first time around, when it was easy. Our lives aren’t in sync. I’ve got emotional damage and am terrified of taking risks. I’m scared I’ll lose you again, that it’ll hurt even worse this time. I’m scared to love someone else’s child the way all children deserve tobe loved, wholeheartedly, as if they’re my own, then to suddenly no longer have them in my life. I don’t see how...” My thoughts unravel.
“Leave that to me. I’ll show you how.” He’s solemn. Steady. “You and I will get on solid ground together. We’ll move slowly. The foundation of your last relationship was built upside down, sounds like. I can promise that until we’re sure where this is going, we’ll keep Miles out of it, and build the foundation right. You and I need to spend time together alone first.”
My gaze drops from his eyes to his chest. “It sounds a little less scary, the way you say it.”
He chucks me under the chin. “Anything is possible if you plan it right.”
“How is it that you always know exactly what to do? It’s annoying.”
“I’m going to remember that you said I always know exactly what to do. It’s so close to admitting that I know everything.”
I laugh. That’s such a sneaky trick of his, making me laugh. Making me let go of my worries, if only for a moment. “The muscles in your neck must be like steel cables, to hold up such a big head all the time.”
He winks.
We wander back to the market, night settling in earnest now, our hands not quite wrapped together but not quite lonely. A deliberate brushing of fingers. Chemicals have been added to the bonfire, flames of every color ripping from the logs like party streamers. Just a little ways away lies a three-by-three-foot square of hot coals, which Luna and I arranged earlier. “Care to give it a go?” he asks.
The old tradition is for couples to hold hands and leap over the coals together. If they land on the other side still holding hands, they become honorary May Majesties.
“Don’t let me burn,” I tell him. “I like these shoes.”
I lace my fingers in his, looking to him for reassurance, and his fingers tighten in mine automatically. I know a ferocious pleasure when we leap and land together, closer than we were before; like magic has sealed the warm and fluttery feelings within us.
“My queen.” He bows low, one arm outstretched.
I remove the flowers from my head, settling them on his.
He makes a face. “Striped carnations? Sends the wrong message. I’ll be needing snowdrops. Grow any yet in your new greenhouse?”
“The greenhouse is out of commission,” I remind him. “Needs a new floor, remember? And a couple of windows.”
He scratches his jaw, eyes mischievous. “You sure about that?”
Imparting a suspicious look at him, I turn toward the greenhouse. I haven’t been able to bring myself to look at it lately. “Yes, I’m—”
Right away, I can see that missing windowpanes have materialized. “How!” I shout, making a beeline for the door. “How did you do this? And the—oh my goodness! You didn’t. Youdidn’t.”
“Oh, but I did.”
I hear the grin in his voice, and I could kiss him. I could shake him. But I can’t do anything at all because the rotten hardwood is gone, replaced with gravel, and the moldy shelves are gone, replaced with nice metal ones. I’m going to cry. Over glass and gravel and metal.
I lift my hands to my cheeks, totally at a loss. “Alex King.”
“I hope you don’t mind that it’s not concrete. Did a little research and gravel should work just fine for now. It’s much cheaper and quicker, too.”
I stare around me in amazement. “I can’t believe you did this. And again,how? I’ve been in the yard all evening, prepping for tonight. I should’ve heard something.”
He leans back against a shelf, arms crossed over his chest. My focus is irresistibly drawn to the lines of his body, graceful but firm. The hard sweep of his jaw, shadows beneath, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. “I did it this morning, while you were busy inside the shop.”
“I just...” My hands fall limply at my sides. “Thank you. So much. You have no idea what this means to me. I don’t even know what to say, or how to thank you properly.”
He taps the rim of an empty flowerpot resting on a new shelf. “Just don’t forget me when you’re famous.” He checks his phone. “I’ve got to get back now, though. Glad to see you like it all.”
He awaits my response, but since I can’t grapple for any, he throws his head back on a laugh. “Boy, you areshocked, aren’t you? Clearly not used to surprises. Think I’ll have to change that.”
My heart can barely take it. I’m going toexpand. I’m going to grow and grow, with nothing to stop me. I’ll stretch my roots out all over Ohio. More people will hear about my flora fortunes, and they’ll come to visit the shop. They’ll leave with armfuls of flowers, candles, books. I’m going to dream a garden so beautiful that it’ll spawn legends; tourists will be able tofeelthe promise of true love in every leaf. I’m so swelled up with joy that I could burst.
