Page 57 of Where the Roses Bloom
“Then stay,” he said. “I want it, too. You. A future. A family, if it’s in the cards.”
His fingers moved slow, parting me beneath the water. I arched into him with a soft gasp, and he kissed the curve of my neck, whispering, “Let me love you again.”
My heart thudded deep in my chest as I turned to straddle him, water lapping over the edge of the tub. His hands gripped my hips, steadying me as I sank down, taking him in with a sigh. The stretch of him filled something in me I hadn’t known was empty.
The candlelight flickered like it was trying to keep up with us, shadows dancing along the beadboard walls. Outside, the wind hummed low through the trees, but the house was warm, the tub a cradle of golden heat and bare skin.
Rhett looked up at me like he was still seeing stars, even though the storm had passed.
“You feel like home,” he whispered.
I rocked against him slowly, our bodies slick and flushed, the water between us sloshing soft and steady. I braced my hands on his shoulders and kissed him like I wanted to suss out the flavor of this life—the new one, the one I hadn’t dared hope for until I landed in this man’s lap.
He groaned low, pressing his forehead to mine. “I can’t hold out long,” he rasped.
“Then come for me,” I murmured. “Come inside me, Rhett.”
I moved harder, faster, hips rolling in rhythm with his hands, with the soft sounds of the water and the creak of the old tub. Every part of me was aching, glowing, filled with the heady rush of possibility. His grip tightened on my hips, and I felt him swell inside me, close, close?—
“Willow,” he choked. “I need—fuck—I need to know if you want…”
“Yes,” I said, not waiting for the question. “Yes, Rhett. If it happens, it happens.”
His head snapped up, eyes burning into mine. And then he kissed me again—desperate, consuming—as we fell together, clutching and gasping, lost in the kind of love that rooted and bloomed and begged to be remembered.
When we finally stilled, the water had gone still around us, the candles down to low flickers. I curled against his chest again, breathing with him, heart to heart.
The curse felt far away now.
But the future?
That felt close.
CHAPTER 20
Willow
Maybe it wasthe first morning I opened the windows and let in the breeze, lavender and lemon balm steeping on the stove. Maybe it was the black tourmaline I buried at the four corners of the house, whispering protection over each dark stone like a prayer. Maybe it was when Rhett caught me leaving out a thimble of milk and a spoonful of honey and raised one skeptical eyebrow before muttering, “For the raccoons, right?”
“Sure,” I’d said, trying not to smile. “The raccoons.”
But really, it was all of it.
The garden was the final piece. Rhett had given me free rein over the empty plot along the southern edge of the property—an overgrown stretch behind Hazel’s old clothesline that caught sun from dawn to dusk. I’d spent three days clearing it out, scratching my nails in the dirt, drawing pentacles, the triple goddess, and spirals with ash in the soil. I planted rosemary and yarrow, moonwort and motherwort, tucked basil and sweetgrass into the edges where the light lingered longest.
Rhett found me there most mornings, dirt on my hands, acrown of flyaways frizzing around my face, and every time he looked at me, it was like he forgot how to speak.
That was happening more often lately.
“Woman like you…might actually heal this place,” he said once, crouching beside me with a mug of coffee in his hand.
I’d just kissed the corner of his mouth and told him to hush.
And as I settled into the house, the town settled in around me. Mabel knew my order at the diner, as did the baristas at Sweet Briar. I learned how to navigate the local grocery store, and the Wrights ordered a few special herbalism books for me. And as the summer bloomed, Hazel’s garden came back to life.
When August hit, I knew I’d officially moved to Willow Grove—because I got my first patient.
It felt like my life in Charlotte was a whole world away, some other girl in some other timeline, but back then, I’d built my entire career on assisting with childbirth. Eventually, I’d planned on becoming a midwife…but me and Carter were always broke, and it felt like even the most attainable goals were impossible.
