The Lovely Garden (6 page)

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Authors: Emma Mohr

BOOK: The Lovely Garden
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There were several 24-hour grocery stores around my apartment, but I kept it to myself. I was enjoying this alone time we were having. It was nice, just the two of us sitting here and talking. And I wanted to hear more about him. “Well, we could just stay here and get to know each other a little more. You know, just in case my dad’s wish for grandbabies does happen.” I was on a roll, he was chuckling and shaking his head.

“I think that’s a good idea.” We got a feel of each other on the first date, now was the time to get into the nitty gritty. He went first “What’s your favorite food?”

“Breakfast. Anything breakfast related.” There was an obvious reason for that. “You? Aside from pancakes?” That after thought got me another chuckle. God, I loved the way that man sounded when he laughed or chuckled. It made my body vibrate with pleasure.

“Tomato soup. I don’t know what it is, but I love that stuff.” That had not been what I was expecting. To each their own. “Did you go to college?”

“I did. Community college. Got an Associates in Gen. Ed.” Because I couldn’t decide what I wanted to be as a big girl. Still have no idea. Felt like college was a bit of a waste on me, but it did get me higher pay at my job so it wasn’t a complete waste.

“Business with a focus on marketing.” He answered my unasked question. A very useful degree for him. “I… don’t know what else to ask.” We smiled at each other.

There was a good mood going on, and it was time for me to ruin it. I had to ask the question that had been on my mind since our dinner. “Did your mom die?” I tried to be gentle as possible, but it just wasn’t a gentle question. “You talk about her in the past tense, but I didn’t want to assume anything.” You know what they say when you assume. Ass, you, me, that thing.

A sad smile made its way onto his face and I regretted asking. But I wasn’t going to take it back. It was too late for that. “Yes. My father, as well. They died in a car crash a few years ago.”

I gave his hand a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s fine.” He sighed. “I should have expected sooner or later. Didn’t expect you to be bold enough to ask about it on our second date.”

Was it our second date? We had breakfast, and we were talking about doing more things together. I guessed it could be considered our second date. Two dates in two days. I was on a roll. “Well, I move a little fast sometimes.”

His face brightened. “I like a woman who’s not afraid to move quickly.” He lifted my chin and kissed me. “Time isn’t something I have a lot of.”

That was a joke, right? Please, let that have been a joke. I didn’t want to rush things. Didn’t want it to end because we moved too fast. But I felt like I would lose him if I moved to slow. And even now, only two days in, I didn’t want to lose him. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the relationship that lasted. He did survive my dad’s jokes, after all.

“So, now that I’ve officially killed the conversation, what do you want to do now?” Changing the subject when I was uncomfortable was my forte.

“A nap would be great.”

I couldn’t agree with him more. “I do have a bed.”

“I’m sure you do, but we shouldn’t take a nap. It’ll just make us more tired.” He had a point there. But the bed was so tempting.

“Then, let’s go somewhere. Because if we don’t, I’m going to take a nap. That bed is calling to me.” We had only been up for a couple of hours, but I was already exhausted. A nap would be a good pick me up. Damn, he just should have kept his mouth shut about it. It was all I could think about.

“How about,” he gave me another peck on the lips, “we go get your car, and meet back at my house. I need to make a list of everything I need anyways.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

After we pulled up in the gravel driveway and parked our cars, I took a minute to take in my car next to his and then the house. My beat up green four-door rust bucket stuck out like a sore thumb. Not that it didn’t at the restaurant with cars that cost more than my annual salary on the low end. But here, it was more noticeable in the glaring sunlight and the stark white gravel. I was dating way above my station. The thought made me uncomfortable.

Charles moved next to me, placing a hand on the small of my back. “You coming in?”

I smiled up at him.
This isn’t going to last
, I thought. Aloud I said, “Yeah. Sorry, just thinking.” I allowed him to lead me toward the house.

There was a smile on his face as his hand shifted from my back to my hip, holding me closer. “Just thinking that this isn’t going to work because the class difference?” The shock was clear on my face. “You wouldn’t be the first woman to think that.” Of course, I wasn’t. It was a legitimate problem. When you come from two extremes like we do, the world was stacked against you.

Charles dug his keys out of his pocket, unlocked the door, and then ushered me inside. “Look, I’m not filthy rich. My parents were, and I had to spend a lot of the money I inherited from them to buy my sister’s half of the house from her.” The way he said “sister” sent a shiver up my spine. There was so much venom in it, it could kill. I guess they didn’t get along. Good to know so I don’t ever bring her up in casual conversation. “All the money I make comes from my business, which compared to my parents, isn’t a whole lot.”

Uh-huh. Probably more than he thought. At least six figures. No way he made less than that. And I was positive he wasn’t adding in his expenses. Like house cleaning, because there was no way in hell he cleaned this place by himself, or kept up the yard work. That shit doesn’t come cheap. But it was best not to bring it up. He was, after all, trying to reassure me that he wasn’t going to dump me because I was poor.

As we entered the kitchen, I turned to him, placing my hands on his hips. “I’m sorry. This,” I indicated to, well, everything, “isn’t something that I’m used to. It’s just so, overwhelming.” It was going to take some time getting used to his lifestyle.

“Okay.” He traced my jawline with an idle thumb. “It’s just seems like you’re looking for an out, and it’s only been two days.” Was I looking for an out? A part of me was. It was terrified that this might actually work, and I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. I knew how to wreck relationships, not be in one.

“I'm sorry.” I rested my cheek on his chest. “I haven't had an easy time with my past relationships. I just don't know how to act in one anymore.” Might as well tell him the truth. “And the dates Jenny set me up with don't usually go this well.” Seriously, I had never stayed the night with any of them, or had been willing to waste a Saturday with them. Setting me up with her husband's boss had been a huge risk, but it had paid off so far. Key words: so far. I can't predict the future so I can't tell how well it'll go from here.

I pulled away from him. “Go make your list so we can move on to something fun.” I hoped grocery shopping wasn't going to be the only activity we were going to do today.

“I'm going, I'm going.” He removed himself from my arms and missed him already. An ache that I wasn't used to. A need of him that bothered me. Only day two and I'm already getting needy. I need to get out more.

Charles opened his refrigerator and peered inside for a total of ten seconds before turning back to me. “Ready?” I hadn’t even made it to the island to lean against.

“You didn't even write anything down.” Was he a memory wizard or something? I had to write everything down just to remember it.

“I don't need to.” He rubbed the back of his head. “There isn't anything I don't need.” Ah. Well, that explained that.

“Oh, that's just sad. I thought you were an adult.” I cocked an eyebrow at him. Which reminded me. “How old are you, anyways?” Another thing Jenny failed to mention. Maybe he was older than he looked and she thought I would say no? Or it just slipped her mind. More than likely, it was the latter.

My change of tone surprised him, but he still answered. “I'm thirty-five.”

Six years older than me. Not too bad. Honestly, I was expecting him to be a little younger, but it wasn’t too much of an age difference to make me uncomfortable. “I'm twenty-nine, if Jenny didn't tell you.” I was sure she hadn’t. Though, just by working with Billy and going to Jenny’s parties, he probably knew more about me than I did him. That was, if he even bothered to ask her anything about me. Not like I did, though I didn’t know he had an interest, and I had been too drunk to remember him.

He moved to me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and nuzzling my neck. “You’re so young.” I pulled away enough so he could see the incredulous look on my face. “I’m just joking.” Who was telling bad jokes now? “I’m sad to say this, but you’re not the youngest woman I have ever dated.”

“I’d ask you what the youngest was, but it really isn’t any of my business.” My hands roamed his chest and stomach. His stomach tightened at the light touch of my fingers. Someone was a tad ticklish. “As long as she’s not going to come back and try to steal you away from me or something.”

“The only woman who’s going to take me away from you is my personal assistance, Rebecca, because I’m not allowed to have fun on my days off.”

Ooh. Must be rough. Though, I wouldn’t mind a job where I got a personal assistant. It would make my job so much easier. I wouldn’t have to get up and get my own coffee, much less Jerry’s, my boss. I was in no way, shape, or form his personal assistant, but he loved to treat me as such. Really ticked me off. But hey, having a job you hated was better than not having a job at all.

Charles ran his fingers through my hair. “We better get going so we have time for other things.” The way he said “other things” sent a pleasant tingle down my spine.

“Lead the way.”

 

When we returned to Charles’ house, arms laden with our spoils, I was exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to just go take a nap or a nice, long bath. Something, anything that didn’t involve physical labor of any sort.

That man had run me ragged. He had dragged me to four, yes four, different fucking stores. Who the
fuck
goes to four grocery stores? Seriously, who? Every one of them had what he needed, but he still dragged me to all of the others. I had wanted to rip his head off by the end of the trip. He must have sensed that since he hadn’t said a word. Or he was just as tired and cranky as I was.

I sat on a stool at the island, watching as he put away his food. Watching him move relaxed me. He was surprisingly graceful, his movements fluid and dance-like. I wonder if his mom had dragged his to dance class as a child. My mom had tried that with me, and I promptly quit after the second class. I ended up face-planting in front of the entire class and was so embarrassed I couldn’t bring myself to keep going. It hurt my mom’s feelings, not that she had said anything, but understood. We eventually tried some sports. I was very good at softball and stuck with that for a while.

By the time Charles finished putting the groceries away, I was laying my head on the countertop, arms sprawled out in front of me. “Is it time for a nap yet?” He chuckled that deep chuckle that sent shivers down my spine. “I like it when you laugh,” came out of my mouth before I could stop myself. God, I sounded like an idiot.

Idiot or not, he smiled at me, playing with my hair at the nape of my neck. “I’ll be sure to laugh as much as possible when you’re around.” That was kind of sweet. To show my appreciation, I tilted my head back allowing him to kiss me. “And no naps.” He just takes the fun out of everything.

“Well, if you’re not going to let me sleep, you should give me that tour you promised me last night.” It was only fair. And I still did want to see the rest of the house. It wasn’t every day a woman like me got to see a house this size.

He grabbed my hand and all but pulled me off of the chair. “There are a lot of rooms, so no lolly-gagging behind.”

And there were. Way too many for a man living on his own. Eight bedrooms, all furnished and just waiting for someone to move into them, and the same size as Charles’ room, minus the master bedroom; the remnants of his parents lives still resting in the room. Three bathrooms, one the size of my apartment with a bathtub just as big; I needed to revisit that bathtub. And two offices and a sewing room. Only four bedrooms and one bathroom were from the original house. Charles’ grandmother ordered the additions to be made, and his grandfather complied willingly. Her brother had been killed by a drunk driver while walking home, and she didn’t want her guests to suffer the same fate.

The additions do stand out compared to the original bits. Even though they tried hard to match it, the hardwood floor was different. A different wood and you could see the age difference. The rooms were slightly bigger than Charles’ but not so much that you could tell, unless you were looking for it. There was more modern furniture in the bedrooms and in the bathrooms as well. It was still a nice house though.

Charles was still leading me around by my hand, heading back down the stairs, and toward the rear of the house, which I had already seen. “There’s still more?” The house was big enough, I couldn’t handle it if there was more for me to see.

He turned back to me, playful smile on his face. “There’s still outside.”

“Do you have a tennis court, or something?” Because if it was a tennis court, he could save himself the time. I hated tennis. Softball is a far superior sport.

“We’ll go with the ‘or something.’” So, not a tennis court. Still, I didn’t understand what could be so great outside that he would want to show me. Maybe he had a pond?

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