Page 24 of Marrying the Gardener (The Bachelor Brothers #3)

?

Please, for the sake of my sanity, let’s not miscommunicate like this.

Kaleb

Crimson in a bathing suit transitioning into Crimson in nothing but her underwear and a t-shirt we bought at the hotel store on the ground floor undoes me.

Shortly after we got a room and stocked up on the things we’d need for the night, Crimson took a quick shower and changed into this bare nothingness.

Now, while I brush my teeth, she’s giving the room a safety check—including pulling up the sheets and checking the corners of the mattress. Seemingly satisfied—and oblivious to how hot she is—she climbs into the queen-size bed, folds her hands in her lap atop the comforter, and waits.

Against the pure white bedding, her blow-dried hair glows.

Red. So…very… red .

I can’t believe she asked me about redheads tonight.

I can’t believe she suggested that I could have fallen this in love with Vivia or Charlotte at a moment’s notice. I hope she doesn’t think it was just her hair that unraveled my atoms. Or just her hair and her freckles.

I can’t believe I mentioned the freckles.

I can’t believe I have now seen ninety percent of her skin…and know that the chances are one hundred percent of it is coated in constellations and galaxies as thick as the ink on my brother Zakery’s arms.

She’s so beautiful. And she’s so her .

Powerful. Confident. Surprisingly innocent.

Unlike Charlotte, who carries herself like someone small, and unlike Vivia, whose confidence seems most prevalent when she’s propositioning, Crimson is a force. I can’t stop myself from hurtling into her gravity.

Spitting in the sink, I set my toothbrush in the stand for tomorrow morning and slip out of the bathroom.

The second I’m across the threshold, Crimson tenses.

So I stop where I am beyond the doorway and arch a brow at her.

Still smiling, she says, “What now?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, glancing at the LED clock on the nightstand nearest me. “It’s almost four in the morning.”

“Do I…take off my clothes…or do you do that?” She twines her fingers in her hair while my brain shuts down. “In hindsight, it was probably silly to buy something to sleep in. We’ll both be naked in a minute anyway.”

“Whoa there,” I whisper, hoarse. “What do you think is happening tonight?”

She blinks. “Intercourse attempt number one. Hopefully a successful attempt.”

My brows launch up. I croak, “What? Why?”

“Because? You…want to?” She eyes me, growing suddenly suspicious. “Have I misunderstood something? Yesterday, you asked for this.”

Yes, I have asked for this. A lot. But yesterday? “Yesterday, I said we wouldn’t be looking into intimacy college until after everything with your family was handled and we had a chance to remarry for better reasons.”

She frowns. “Was I supposed to know that you meant sex was intimacy college, Kaleb? Is that really information I was meant to glean from your roundabout language?”

“Yeah, actually.” I laugh as I flick off the bathroom light and approach her, pushing down the sheets on the side of the bed she’s solidly not taking up.

My heart thumps a staccato pace as I settle in, unable to think about anything but the fact I am turning down a chance—maybe my only chance—to be with this woman.

As it stands, it’s unbelievably late, and I heard what her friends were saying about me all night.

The chance that she’s tired and has her head full of nonsense is high.

And that’s exactly why I shouldn’t …even if I want to.

Her arms fold. “What did you mean when you said you wanted me to keep you last night then?”

“Cuddles.”

“Cuddles,” she states, then sags. “Well. I’m glad I refrained from googling a how to on my phone. I may have been scarred for life.”

“Please, if we ever do actually consider going all the way, do not google a how-to guide.”

“If we ever actually consider going there, I would very much like a diagram. I’ll just have more time to get a book on the topic instead of relying on the internet now.”

Thank…goodness? “Did you not have a sex-ed class?”

Her attention falls off me and fixes on her hands, which tangle together. “I was tutored at home. And my father controlled the curriculum. Knowing anything beyond how to keep my menstrual cycle from affecting him wasn’t required education.”

I sit myself up. “That is…disgusting. I don’t have any other word for it. Do you…” I wince, cup a hand to my mouth, and blow out a breath. “Sorry. If I get too personal, don’t feel obligated to answer, but did you understand at all what you thought would be happening tonight?”

She smooths her finger over her thumbnail and shakes her head.

A swear slips through my brain.

“Well, a little bit, obviously. Ava told me a few things. But not really, no.”

The very direct ways that horrible men like Crimson’s father seek to control women, down to the plainest and simplest withholding of vital information, sicken me.

It’s not just a matter of health at this point.

There’s safety risks that come from utter naivete.

Without the privilege of knowing how things work and the truth, guys can create countless manipulative lies to get what they want. “I am so sorry, Crimson.”

She lifts a shoulder. “It hasn’t really been all that important thus far.

Don’t worry about it.” She glances my way, beautiful brown eyes so tremendously calm and oblivious to what I’m thinking about her, because she very sincerely has no idea.

“I’m honestly a little relieved. How does cuddling work? ”

“What do you mean?”

“Is it like a game of Tetris? I slot my leg in here; you fit your arm in there? Logically, sleeping with someone seems rather inconvenient. Is there a trick to it?”

My insides somehow manage to melt further. She’s so precious. Fire and doves. Blazing, untouchable innocence with a confidence and self-awareness that destroys me. “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, Rose-red. Not even cuddling.”

“I know that.”

“You don’t have to push yourself for my sake. Just because I’m helping you with your family doesn’t mean I expect you to respond to my feelings in any way that sacrifices your own wishes.”

“I’m not a child, Kaleb,” she says. “I’m fully aware of the decisions I’m making. You don’t have to keep reminding me that you aren’t forcing me to do things. I know you aren’t. If you were, I wouldn’t be so keen on trying any of it.”

“Sorry. I just worry that I’m manipulating you.”

Her expression hardens. “You can try to manipulate me. It won’t end well.”

“You don’t think your willingness to have sex with me is prompted at all by your knowledge that I’m in love with you? You’re incredibly giving, Crimson. I worry about how much you’ll let me take just because, as you said, I want to .”

She deadpans, “To be perfectly blunt, Kaleb, I was hoping to abuse how comfortable I feel around you. Tonight has made me wonder what’s wrong with me, and I was thinking you might be able to fix it.

I’ve spent the past who knows how many hours hearing Daria and Vivia go off about your appeal, but I just don’t see it like they do.

And it wasn’t just them, either. I watched all the women who passed you tonight double-take.

I know I’m the odd one out. So. No. I’m not thinking poor baby Kaleb, in love with me, needs sex .

I’m thinking that you’re safe enough to help me answer these questions about why I’m different.

” She sinks into the bedding, eyes downcast. “Heck…just your response right now proves you’re not manipulative.

It’s not in your nature. And I think we both know that we missed the nurture side of our upbringing.

We’ve been left to figure things out by ourselves a lot.

Figuring out what’s wrong with me is just another part of it I guess.

At least this time I’m not doing it by myself. ”

My heart squeezes. “Nothing’s wrong with you even if you don’t feel attraction in the same way as most.”

“I understand that…on a cognitive level. But emotionally, it’s confusing and feels like I’m missing out on something.

Or something inside me is missing. Wanting this kind of intimacy is normal.

It’s natural. For one school of thought, it’s instinct, and for the other, it’s a literal deity-assigned command. It’s hard not to feel like I’m wrong.”

“Nah.” I push the sheets aside and open my arms. “You’re not.”

Crimson looks at me, scanning the invitation, then she scoots in, letting me wrap her up, pull her close, lose my mind. She whispers, “If I’m not missing out on something, why does it seem to run the whole world?”

“Because—” My lips graze her forehead. “—I won’t lie to you, for many people it’s an enjoyable experience, but so are lots of things.

It’s just the stigmatized stuff that people fixate on the most. Consider how the alcohol ban backfired.

Intimacy, on any level, is a little vulnerable and a little scary.

Add a touch of forbidden on top of how most people experience attraction, and it’s irresistible. ”

“Weird,” she murmurs, against my chest, fingers smoothing the fabric of my t-shirt as her bare legs mingle with mine.

I moisten my lips. “Yeah…a bit.”

“Is this difficult for you?” she asks.

Agonizing. “What do you mean?”

“Is it difficult for you to resist?”

“Oh. No.” I find the bumps of her spine and trace the line down to the dimples at the small of her back. “I care about your feelings more than I care about mine right now. If I had to, I could take care of them. They never have to be your responsibility.”

Her legs press, toes finding mine. “Again, I don’t feel responsibility here, Kaleb. That’s not why I’m here. At all.”

“I just want it clear. Many men use this stuff as a means to control or guilt women into helping them. That is never necessary.”

“Ew. Men disgust me,” she mutters, as she snuggles closer. “I wish more were like you.”

Like me?

I’m a coward. And I’m still not perfectly convinced that I’m not at least subconsciously manipulating her in some heinous way.

Crimson offers herself to people as simply as breathing.

These past few weeks, I’ve watched her do it so naturally I doubt she realizes.

She is a light. A beacon of joy and security. Everyone she comes across adores her.

Unlike her, I am by no means a saint.

Even though I’ve never vehemently coerced a woman into anything, sometimes kindness is enough coercion. Sometimes I should have said no but didn’t because of what I wanted. Sometimes I could read the loneliness in a woman’s eyes and I used that.

Because I knew that same loneliness reflected in my own.

I knew we were both just running away.

But I let that knowledge fuel my actions instead of taking a step back and making sure neither of us would have regrets in the morning.

I’ve always been smart enough to know better. I’ve just not always been strong enough to care that those kinds of actions would stick with me forever.

Even right now what Crimson and I are doing tonight is gonna stick.

Any time anyone is vulnerable with someone, emotionally or physically, that sticks . You remember friends you had, and lost, forever. You remember moments you can’t get back forever. You remember mistakes you made forever .

Firsts.

Lasts.

In betweens.

Anything that strikes the soul sticks in good ways, or bad.

Holding Crimson tonight is going to come with me into the rest of my life, and I will always remember the shape of her in my hands, the feel of her breath warming the neckline of my shirt, the clean yet clinical scent of the complimentary soaps and shampoos in her hair.

As her breaths slow, I know this is going to stay with me, burying its roots deep in my heart.

Forever.

No matter what happens beyond this, this will change me.

For better, or for worse—till death do we part.