Page 29 of Marrying the Gardener (The Bachelor Brothers #3)

My fist bunches in her hair, and her gasp hits my chest. My knees threaten to give out, so I scoop her up and drop us both atop the comforter of my bed.

While I’m battling for breath and sense and to slow down , she grabs the fabric of my shirt, raking it off my body.

My collar gets stuck on my nose before I get a chance to remember why I’m trying to pace myself.

Something about respect. Sincerity? Wanting to be married for the right reasons, maybe?

A curse slices all reason from my brain as she gets the cloth over my head, leaving me to look down at…

Her.

Flushed.

Breathing hard.

Lying beneath me, lips swollen, parted, eyes roving my skin.

Careful to protect the sight, I pull my shirt off my arms and chuck it somewhere it can’t bother us anymore. Her cool fingertips line my muscles, starting at my bicep, perusing my neck, flattening against my stomach.

“Crimson,” I whisper, shaking, raw. My muscles tense, tightening in response to the slight scratch of her nails.

I… can’t . My head drops against the pillow beside her head.

My nose buries itself in her hair. Desire floods my brain, erupting.

I fight it. “Crimson,” I croak, “we…we should talk. We need to talk. What—”

Her other hand finds my back and punctures as she lifts her mouth to my neck.

She bites; I cuss.

“It’s like a disease,” she says.

“What is?” I brace myself on my forearms, coming undone. I have never once fallen apart like this for a woman, and that scares me… That scares me because that means I’ve never once cared like this for any other woman.

And that means I have so, so much more to lose.

“You,” she whispers, licking where she bit my flesh.

“I haven’t been able to get touching you like this out of my head.

It replays. All night. Touching. Kissing.

Everything we’ve done; everything we could do.

I keep dreaming about exploring you, and it doesn’t end.

You’re a disease in my brain.” Her arms wrap around me, holding me, and I sink against her body, letting her heat rise into my veins.

Her fingers coast through the short hairs at the base of my neck.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me so many days to talk to you.

I didn’t know how to put these feelings into words.

I didn’t want to give you hope. I thought it would go away.

But it hasn’t. It’s gotten worse. So now I don’t think it’s false hope to tell you. ” Her arms tighten. “Kaleb.”

My breath catches.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Everything in my mind collapses, fixating on those words, replaying them, over and over and over. She’s…falling in love with me ? Crimson—my Crimson—is falling in love with me ?

Elation collides with my heart, so potent it robs me of air and sense. Circling her in my arms, I roll onto my back and sag into the mattress, cradling her on my chest, against my hammering heart. “You’re in love with me?” I ask, breathless.

She pushes against my chest, and I reluctantly force my arms to free her. As she rises, over me, waterfalls of her flaming hair floating around her, I see my entire future. “ Falling ,” she corrects. “Not fallen .”

“Right. Of course.” Mindless, my fingers tease the hem of her dress as my attention slips from her beautiful face to the way her skirt has bunched at her knees, which are parted around my waist. Her fists—pressed to my chest—singe my skin, and I get stuck on the picture of her burning me alive as she takes me to a place where I’ll never be cold again.

Clinical as a nurse delivering bad news, she says, “Desire began infecting me sometime at the bar. I’ve been incapable of shaking it since, and I fear it may worsen considerably before I can deny it. What do you… do with the feelings ?”

My mind blanks. “With what feelings?”

“The bury your nails in him and make him bleed feelings.”

I blink. “I’m sorry. What?”

Unclenching her fingers, she plants them in my shoulders, bends, and rends my flesh as she claims my mouth again. Teeth and tongue. And—

I shake as swears riot in my head, hissing between my lips when she finally sees fit to free me.

I can hardly breathe. Think. Remember what we were talking about.

“Those are…” I swallow, taste a tinge of iron.

“…somewhat violent feelings, aren’t they?

” I lift a hand to my mouth, and I know I’m blushing like a teenager.

I am undoubtedly bleeding. I don’t know if it’s my lip or my tongue. I’m not sure I care.

“They are,” she confirms. “It’s like cute aggression, which I have never experienced before.

I have no antibodies against these emotions.

And they inconvenience me. I’m drawing hearts in the margins of my planner like I’m going through puberty.

” Her nails embed deeper. “Yet another thing I have never experienced before.”

I glance toward her womanly figure. “You…didn’t experience puberty?”

Relinquishing one talon, she plants her fingers gracefully upon her bosom. “ I never went through an awkward phase or a feelings phase. There were no crushes. There was no acne.”

Wow—I swallow—lucky lass.

“I’m like a black widow spider, suddenly offered a mate. Your life is at risk, Kaleb. I fear for you.”

“The story that black widows always eat their mates is more myth than truth,” I offer.

Her stunning red lashes flutter. “What?”

I clear my throat. “It tends to happen more in captivity than in the wild. For black widows to mate, part of the male’s body must be placed between the female’s fangs, leaving him open to threat, but it’s rare that the wild females take advantage of that.

It’s only in captivity, when obtaining food is somewhat outside the female’s control, that it becomes a prevalent issue. ”

Crimson stares down at me, computes the useless nonsense I’ve just spouted, then poses, “Kaleb. I’m a female who has spent her entire life in something akin to captivity.”

Ah, yes. That is…fair enough.

Counterpoint: do I entirely mind being eaten?

Pushing myself up on my elbows, I say, “I don’t mind rough.”

“Rough?”

Sagely, I nod. “Intimacy with the addition of cute aggression. Very common. Very normal.”

“Normal,” she echoes, and some tension in her releases. “So this is a normal reaction to the onset of emotion toward someone…”

“It is.”

My body quakes when she runs her fingers through her hair, absently playing with it as she gets lost in her thoughts. “Interesting.”

I’m so relieved the distance over the past week hasn’t been because I’ve done something wrong. I say, “I wish you’d talked to me.”

She glances at me, letting her hair fall around her speckled shoulder. “I told you. I didn’t want to give you false hope.”

“I’d have preferred false hope to feeling like you were pulling away.”

“I said you hadn’t done anything wrong.”

“It isn’t often someone says that, means it, and then imposes separation, Rose-red.”

“You could have talked to me about it.”

Lifting one hand, I tease the beautiful locks of her hair myself. “I’ve tried. You’ve been skittish all week.”

“Oh.” She traces my collarbone with a fingertip. “I suppose I have been… I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.”

I run my thumb over the freckles lining her cheekbone, marvel at the heat scouring her flesh. She is so pretty. “It’s all right. It must be scary.”

“Don’t patronize me, Kaleb.”

I wince. “Sorry. I’m not trying to.”

“You are, though. You’re getting all soothing and protector-y. I don’t need a soothing protector. It’s not scary. It’s disturbing. We just exchanged a multitude of germs, and I want to do it again. That is disgusting.”

“I brushed my teeth this morning.”

“Sure, but I didn’t even ask if you had before I jumped you.”

“I’m more than willing to be jumped again.”

“ Kaleb ,” she groans.

I can’t stop myself. I laugh.

She scowls, then she starts to leave me. “I hate being inexperienced. I’m going to look up several dozen romcoms, check out a handful of books with only smut plots, and see about those diagrams I wanted. We will reconvene at a later point in time.”

Catching her wrist, I keep her from going anywhere. “ Please don’t do any of that.”

“Anything is better than this gleam of oh, baby, don’t worry, I’ll teach you that’s sparkling in your eye.”

“I can close my eyes, and you can do whatever you want to me.” I clear my throat. “ After we’re remarried the correct way.”

“Right,” she drawls. “There is that little prerequisite.”

“Very little. Miniscule, even.”

“Only roughly a year, an entire divorce, and an entire proper wedding stand between.”

I smile.

She also smiles, then she eases, then she sinks. Sighing, she closes her eyes as she snuggles against my chest, kissing the marks she dredged into my shoulders. Ireless, she murmurs, “I hate this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re loving it.”

“I really, really am.” Balancing myself better, I wrap both my arms around her and squeeze. “You’re falling for me.”

“Yep. I’m tumbling unceremoniously into a pit of vile lust. I’m going to drown in the bogs of desire. It’s only a matter of time before I lose all civility and throw myself begging at your feet for relief.”

“I’m sure I’ll not take that much coaxing.”

“You are refreshingly steadfast, Kaleb. I’m sure you’d take a great deal of coaxing should I break before we’re remarried.”

I brush my lips against her forehead, whispering, “If it becomes inconvenient for you that I want our first night together to be in our wedding bed, I’m certain I’m not that strong.”

“Wedding bed,” she echoes. “I’ve never once thought I’d look forward to one of those.”

Heat swells in my chest, compelling. Overwhelmed by it, I murmur, “I love you, Crimson.”

She doesn’t pull away. Tucking her forehead against my neck, she gently scrapes her nails down my bicep and murmurs back, “I’m getting there, Kaleb. Please be patient with me.”

For her, I’ve already waited my entire life.

And, for her, I’d be happy to do it again.