Page 23 of Marrying the Gardener (The Bachelor Brothers #3)

?

Not exactly the touch her and die you’d expect.

Crimson

No, I’m not exactly sure what convinced me that bringing Kaleb along to the pool party today would be a good idea.

Something in my head decided it might prove a safe way to test the waters and introduce him as my husband in my circle.

Something in my heart, idiotically, wanted to spend more time with him.

Clearly, my heart’s wishes overshadowed the reality a bit more than I’m content to admit.

Would this experience have been inevitable within the contracted year and absolutely unavoidable in the event that Kaleb becomes my permanent husband? Yes. Still. I was not expecting blatant confrontation like this.

“He was at Juniper’s party with Vivia just two weeks ago, Crimson,” Daria murmurs after taking me aside.

Lights reflect off the surface of her family’s pool, mere yards away.

Laughter and splashing water fill the stiffness in the air between us.

“I saw them leave together. He was playing with her hair the entire night. You know I wouldn’t say anything unless I was sure, and I’d know those shoulders of his anywhere. ”

My gaze traces Kaleb’s broad, bare shoulders as he sits on a lounge chair beside the pool in swim trunks, gaze consistently finding its way back to me every time it drifts off.

On some level, I was hoping that no one at Juniper’s party two weeks ago would have been sober enough to peg Kaleb tonight. Alas, what frail dreams and wishes…

“I think he has a thing for redheads,” Daria offers, tone conspiratory, “which is totally fine— unless you two have been together for longer than two weeks.”

Our backstory certainly says we have, which means we absolutely have.

Even though this isn’t a part of the scam—since I don’t imagine my grandfather will check in with a bunch of young adult girls related to some of my father’s clients whenever he makes his business decisions—I think a red flag might just help me out of this.

“Is Vivia coming?” I ask.

Daria shrugs, sipping her margarita. “No idea. But, trust me.” Her heavily made-up cat-eyes fix on me. “That’s him. Those are the shoulders she was with.”

Letting my lip jut, I say, “I suppose he got cold feet before we got married the Monday after that party.”

Daria’s mouth drops. “ Married? You two are married ?”

Nodding, I pluck a strawberry off the rim of my virgin daiquiri.

“Yeah. Kaleb and I have been seeing each other secretly for a few years now. We eloped the Monday before last. I don’t mind that he was with Vivia that Saturday.

You know how cold feet can affect men. They see all their options dwindle down to just one, and it freaks them out.

” I smile a little stupidly, hopefully giving woman in love .

“The important thing is he still chose to marry me in the end.”

Daria stares at me. Dumbfounded. Dry as a desert, she says, “Um. No, Crimson. The important thing is that he cheated on you two days before your wedding.”

Daria. Beloved. Why can’t you make this easy for me? I say, “It’s okay.”

“I assure you, it is not.”

Girl. I love you for this. Really. But it’s fine. Deeply so. “He got it out of his system and still picked me. I’m not bothered.”

Fixing her bikini strap, Daria scoffs. “Oh yeah? Well, I am bothered, so you’ll have to excuse me for getting this out of my system.” Then she marches across the patio toward Kaleb.

Which is, you know…unexpected behavior.

“Hey,” she says, dropping down on the lounge chair beside Kaleb’s and shoving her hand toward his chest. “Daria Windbough, Crimson’s friend. Nice to meet you.”

Kaleb glances up at me as he shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Windbough”

“Mm. Yeah.” She clicks her tongue and pulls her hand away. “I have a few questions.”

I beam, Help me explain this situation without completely destroying our narrative , at Kaleb with my eyes, uncertain whether or not he understands, mostly because he arches a confused brow at me.

Daria holds no punches. “Were you cheating on Crimson two weeks ago with a redhead named Vivia?”

Realization dawns on Kaleb’s face, but he does not flinch. “I apologize. I can’t disclose my relationship with Vivia to you, but I can assure you that Crimson is well aware of what was going on.”

Stabbing a red nail to Kaleb’s chest, Daria hisses between her teeth.

“You listen to me, sir. Crimson is a goddess among women, and if you don’t treat her right, I will disembowel you in cold blood, stringing your bones out like ornaments on my front lawn.

If you so much as look at another woman without her permission, you’re in for a world of hurt, and I know if Vivia knew you were with Crimson, she would have made your head roll.

No one, and I do mean no one , messes with our girl. Am I clear?”

Kaleb holds his gaze fixed on me, battling down a smile. “Crystal, Ms. Windbough.”

“What’s so funny?” she sneers, slowly, enunciating each word.

Kaleb tilts his head back, avoiding her laser eyes. “Nothing.”

“You think this is a joke? Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

“Crimson?” Kaleb wets his lips. “Do I have permission to look at your friend?”

This man… Sighing, I sink down onto the lounge chair beside him. “Be nice. She’s just looking out for me.”

“Why are all your friends so feral?” he asks, wrapping an arm around my hip and settling me in closer.

“Because they’re women,” I murmur.

Daria watches us, eyes narrowing. “Wait. So. Everything is sincerely okay?”

Kaleb settles his chin against my shoulder. “Yeah, as far as I know.”

“Then what were you doing with Vivia?”

Kaleb glances past Daria, toward the arcade lounge as a bundle of red curls peaks into view. Pouty lip on display, Vivia scans the bar set up beside the DJ booth on the other side of the pool. Lifting his chin toward her, he says, “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Minutes pass as Daria and Vivia convene, then both women are before us, Vivia covering her mouth as she bumbles through rushed apologies. “Oh, Crimson. I’m so sorry. If I’d known you and Kaleb were together, I never would have hired him.”

“So—wait.” Daria’s lashes flutter as she downs the last of her margarita. “You moonlight as an escort ?”

“Used to,” Kaleb offers, head shaking. “It’s a rough economy for finance guys.”

He’s way too chill about this, way too Kaleb .

The real Kaleb, not the public-display-of-red-flags Kaleb, which is fine since I did specify on the long drive out here that this party wasn’t a part of our ploy and didn’t really matter much where it concerned our schemes.

Still, it’s interesting to see that his first instinct when challenged is to give up the truth, while mine was to rely on the lies.

Daria peers at me, boggled. “I can’t believe you let him go out with girls while you two were together.”

“What was I supposed to do?” I ask. “Keep him on a leash?”

The women exchange a look, then provide an adamant, “ Yes. ”

“Woof,” Kaleb murmurs.

I roll my eyes at them all.

“I wouldn’t mind being leashed.” Kaleb’s smile stretches as he snuggles my shoulder. “Not by you.”

“Oh, will you please behave yourself?”

Daria laughs. “I think the boy needs a shock collar.”

“Willing.”

“ Kaleb ,” I snap.

Vivia giggles, sitting on the edge of the pool and kicking her feet in the water. “You’re so lucky, Crimson. Kaleb is an angel.”

Something tugs on my heart. “Yes, I suppose I am lucky.”

“Not at Monopoly,” he whispers in my ear.

I’m going to kill him.

“So how did you two meet?” Vivia asks, spurring Kaleb to wax poetic about how he saved me from ruffians outside his office building. Here, his tale is different than when he relayed it to my father, though.

According to this rendition, he caught sight of my red hair in the sunlight as he was heading up the sidewalk to his work.

The vision of me struck him through his soul, and he stood—watching—for longer than was perhaps gentlemanly.

When the ruffians showed up, he considered it fate that he’d been blessed with an excuse to meet me.

The rest of the story is pretty standard to the script.

I wanted to thank him, so I invited him out to dinner.

It was the best dinner of his life.

He asked for my number.

He couldn’t get me out of his head.

From the first moment he saw me, his world has been glazed by cherry-colored glasses.

And the only thing he ever wants to see going forward is red .

?

“So,” I broach carefully, fully aware that neither Kaleb nor I are particularly awake tonight.

It is three in the morning. After painting pictures of a love at first sight that deepened with every minute, Kaleb stayed on his lounge chair while I swam with the girls.

I thought he was going to pass out from how little he was breathing when I pushed myself out of the water near him and asked if he could get me another virgin something, maybe a pina colada, but he managed to maintain consciousness throughout the ordeal.

Graciously, neither of us drank alcohol tonight, which means this two hour trip back home to Sunset can be a team effort. And, right now since I’m a little loopy from the sugar that was in my drinks, he’s driving.

Kaleb cuts a look at me, raking it away before his attention falls toward the bathing suit I’m still wearing. I didn’t have the energy to change earlier, so I just wrapped myself in a towel until my bikini dried off.

“So?” he prompts, voice low, rough.

“Redheads?” I ask.

He cusses.

Relaxing in the passenger seat, I cross my ankles on the dash. “ Is that a thing you’re into?”

His attention latches onto my bare legs, slides down to my thighs, jerks back to the road. “Feet off the glove compartment,” he chides. “It’s dangerous.”

I peer at the empty interstate before us, which slices through sheer, rolling mountain stone. “What are you going to hit out here? There aren’t even headlights in the rearview mirror.”

“You are distracting the driver.”

Oh. I plant my elbow on the center console and cross my ankles. “But I’m comfy.”

“This is abuse.”

I laugh and put my feet back on the floor, watching breath leave him once I have. “You didn’t answer me about the redheads.”

“I said—” he echoes his swear from before. “Isn’t that an answer?”

“You could have fallen in love with Vivia. Or— or Charlotte. Unless, you’re a straight red hair guy. They’re both curly queens. Are you prejudiced against curls, Kaleb?”

The touch of a smile graces him. “Your hair is wavy, for the record.”

Not right now it isn’t. Parts of it are still a little damp even. I twist a strand tip between my fingers. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“I’m obsessed with redheads. Every fantasy I’ve ever had bleeds red.

You’re the prettiest, most vibrant redhead I have ever seen.

And…” He exhales, swears again. “The freckles.” He can’t seem to stop himself from swearing more.

“They really are everywhere . Seeing you in a bikini is cruelty of the highest order when I want to kiss each one.”

I look down at my pale skin spattered with little marks.

They’re as copious as they can get. It’s quite nearly as though I was standing near Bob Ross when he was beating a paintbrush, and all the flecks embedded themselves in my skin.

I circle my finger around my belly button. “That’s a lot of kisses.”

“I know .” He cups his free hand to his neck as his grip on the wheel tightens.

“I’m deliriously tired right now, Rose-red.

I can think of nothing but a situation where we’re up this late because I’m busy counting and kissing and tasting every mark on you.

This isn’t a conversation to have while I’m this cognitively impaired.

I don’t want to say something that repulses you by accident. ”

“You don’t repulse me, Kaleb.”

“I can guarantee my thoughts tonight would.”

“Well, now I’m just curious at what oddities are running rampant in that silly skull of yours. You were joking about wearing a shock collar earlier. I think I’m aware your brain is a little funny.”

He wets his lips. “There is a large gap between joking about a shock collar and what I’m thinking of after having been watching you swim all night, Crimson. One is funny…the other is depraved.”

“Speaking of swimming, you didn’t swim. You wore swim trunks and everything, but you didn’t get in the water.”

“Every time you moved, I forgot how to swim, so I could not dream of both joining you and surviving.”

I hum and toy with the ruffles lining my bikini bottoms. “I saw you forgetting how to breathe, too.”

A stuttering breath fills him. He says, “Yeah… You do things to me that you don’t even understand.”

I can tell. And at least while I’m this exhausted and peaceful, I’m not sure I’d mind understanding. I wonder if I ever will.

So many times tonight Daria and Vivia glanced at Kaleb then remarked on how hot he was, how lucky I was, how they’d give anything to insert much too detailed action regarding his body here .

All I could do was laugh their comments off, catch his eye, and wonder where my feral-for-hot-man gene got misplaced.

To me, he was just a body. Just bare flesh. Appealing in a natural way. Beautiful, like long eyelashes or a regal stag’s antlers. After a night of listening to things I’d never think up on my own, I almost feel…broken.

“Kaleb?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to get a room together tonight and finish driving when we get up in the morning? We can find a hotel at the next exit.”

His throat bobs. “Define together .”

“What you mentioned last night. In a neutral place. So if it’s something I don’t want to think about for a while, I don’t have to have it hanging in my bedroom.”

An exit lane appears, and Kaleb throws on his blinker before he says, “Yes.” He curses, “—yes, Crimson, yes .”

Curling my toes, I cross my ankles on the floor, then I try not to think about what I’ve just agreed to as we find a hotel for the night. Tingling with anticipation built on electrified nerves, I shoot Ava a text to let her know we’re safe and she can stop waiting up for me.

She messages back immediately, and I smile at the cute little gif of two bears hugging before one of a little bear falling asleep comes through.

Ava…

She really was wide awake and waiting, wasn’t she?

If tonight’s taught me anything, it’s that my people—even the ones I never realized cared so much about me—are the absolute best.