Page 53 of Guarded from Havoc

How sweet is he?

“I hadn’t gardened in nearly twenty years when I started this one,” Erik explains. He glances around the garden again. “It was right after we started up this branch, about three years ago. When we first got here, we were busy with renovations. But oncethey were done, it felt like I had too much free time. Not that we didn’t have jobs, things to keep us busy, but still…”

“I get it. That’s why I started hiking once I moved to Tupper Lake. I was still having a hard time sleeping, and I’d wake up before dawn with hours to kill before I headed to work. Rather than drive myself crazy in the house, I thought I’d take a walk through the woods. Look for birds and flowers and stuff.”

Erik stares at me for a few seconds. His thumb brushes—caresses?—the back of my hand. “So you don’t think it’s strange? Me spending hours out here gardening?”

“I don’t.” My voice firms. “I think it’s nice. And I can see why you like it. The peace of it, being surrounded by nature, seeing all your hard work blossom to life before your eyes…”

“Exactly.” He smiles, his eyes lighting up with it. “Not that I don’t feel rewarded by my work with B and A. I do. This… It’s just different.”

Another image jumps to mind. Not of the past, but the future. Of working side by side with Erik in the garden, talking and laughing, sometimes slipping into a comfortable silence, picking the vegetables and flowers and sharing a literal garden-to-table meal together. Possibly a kiss at the end with the promise of more.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be a fantasy, though.

Maybe Erik shared this with me for a reason.

Before I can second guess myself, I say, “I could help you sometime. Out here. If you wanted. I don’t know much about gardening. But I could… I don’t know… dig holes or something.”

Wait. What?

Digholesor something?

Am Itryingto sound like an idiot?

As my face heats, Erik shifts towards me, his knees bumping mine.

“I wouldn’t have you digging holes,” he says solemnly. “Not with your concussion. But you could help with trimming. Checking the plants to see if they’re ripe.”

Hope fizzes up. “So you wouldn’t mind if I gardened with you?”

A few seconds pass. Emotion works in his eyes. Then he smiles, the biggest one I’ve seen yet. “I wouldn’t mind at all, Tate. In fact, I would love it.”

CHAPTER 11

ERIK

“You’re a really good teacher, Erik.”

Tatum glances up at me, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. Her cheeks are still flushed pink from our yoga session. Wisps of hair have escaped from her ponytail, bits of gold framing her face like a halo. A smile curves her lips as she adds, “Whenever I tried yoga before, I just got bored. But the way you showed me… I really enjoyed it.”

My brain stalls for a second.

There are plenty of things I could say in response.

But I can’t tear my thoughts from how pretty she is. Or how my chest feels when she smiles at me, like there’s a balloon inside of it, expanding.

I can’t stop thinking about how badly I’d like to hug her. To brush those little blonde hairs away from her face and find out if they’re as soft as I think they are.

Shit. If I’m being honest with myself, I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss her.

I know I shouldn’t be thinking that way. Not now. Not when Tatum is still so vulnerable. Not when she’s still recovering from a concussion and trauma.

Logic tells me to keep things strictly platonic. To support Tate as a friend and nothing more.

But, dammit, Iwantmore.

How fucking ironic is it? After years of remaining contentedly single, I meet the perfect woman at the absolute worst possible time.

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