“This way.” Matt led her through the kitchen to the back door that opened into the courtyard. “The jewel of the restaurant.” He turned to look at Tessa. “At least that’s how I like to think of it.”
The afternoon sun slanted across the tables that were spread out across the weathered flagstones. The air was fragrant with rosemary and lavender, mint and thyme, and various other herbs and flowers that spilled from various raised beds and terracotta pots.
“It’s beautiful out here,” Tessa breathed, stepping fully into the courtyard. “I’ve only ever seen it when it’s filled with people.”
Matt watched her take it in; the wonder on her face made his chest tighten. “My mother planted it years ago,” he explained, following her into the dappled sunlight. “She’s always had a gift for growing things.”
Tessa moved toward a cluster of lavender, her fingers gently brushing the purple blooms. “She certainly has a gift.”
“She does,” Matt said, emboldened by her obvious delight. “Mom’s birthday is coming up next month, and I was thinking...” He hesitated, suddenly self-conscious. “Would you maybe draw it for her? As a gift from me?”
Tessa turned to face him, surprise evident in her expression. “You want me to draw this for your mother’s birthday?”
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Matt said. “The sketches you showed me. I love your work. It’s... remarkable.”
A smile spread across her face, genuine and unguarded. “I’d love to. That’s such a thoughtful gift idea.”
“Really?” Relief washed through him.
“Absolutely. Let me just...” She went back inside and returned with a small notepad and pencil. “I’d like to make some preliminary sketches now, if that’s okay. The light is perfect.”
Now is perfect,his bear agreed fervently.
“Now is great,” Matt said. “Wait here.”
He returned moments later with two glasses and a bottle of wine from the Thornberg vineyard.
“Special occasion?” Tessa asked, accepting the glass he offered.
“Good day,” Matt replied simply. “Good company. And I think the fairies would approve.”
“I believe they would,” Tessa said as she raised her glass to him.
“Let’s sit.” Matt pulled a chair out for her.
“Thank you.”
They sat at a wrought-iron table, and Tessa took a sip of wine. “Oh, this is good. It’s so rich, and the flavors…I don’t think I have words to describe it.”
That’s how I feel about our mate,Matt’s bear said dreamily.
“You don’t have to describe it. Just enjoy it,” Matt told Tessa.
“I am.” Tessa took another sip and then set her glass down on the table. Then she got to work, her pencil moving with quiet confidence across the page.
Matt sipped his wine, watching her hands rather than her face because it felt safer somehow—less likely to reveal the intensity of what he was feeling.
Her fingers moved with precision and care, sometimes pausing as she looked up to study a particular shadow or the way a vine curled across the stones. Matt found himself fascinated bythe process, by the way she seemed to see things differently than he did. This wasn’t just someone making pretty pictures; this was Tessa’s way of truly seeing the world, of paying attention to details others might miss.
“Do you always carry a sketchbook?” he asked, keeping his tone conversational.
Tessa nodded without looking up, her pencil capturing the curve of a terracotta pot. “Since I was little. It helps me process things, I think. Makes me slow down and really look. Take notice of the world around me.”
“I can understand that,” Matt said. “It’s like how I feel about cooking. Forces you to be present.”
She glanced up at him, a flash of recognition in her eyes. “Exactly. Though lately I’ve been trying to focus my work more specifically.”
“Oh?” Matt kept his voice gentle, careful not to push.
