Flowers for the Gardener

by Sharon Maria Bidwell

  Ridiculous, the need to scheme against his own mother but should things come to that, he and Saffie could use what their mother wanted to their advantage.

  * * * *

  The fluctuating weather allowed plenty of leaves to cling stubbornly to a few of the trees, and lay about on the property. Ethan used clearing them as an excuse to hang around near the house. Sapphire Gardener had driven up not half an hour before. Shortly after, a window up top at the front—what he believed to be Sapphire’s bedroom—opened. Rosie would have aired the room if certain of Sapphire’s arrival, but as the woman never showed when she said, no doubt she found her bedroom stuffy. The idea Sapphire used a habit of being late to be cantankerous made him grin. Fortunately, there was no one around to see him beaming like an idiot.

  Peace descended, broken by a shout and a scream so loud, Ethan started toward the house before coming to a faltering halt. The window to Sapphire’s room banged shut, the glimpse of the woman fleeting.

  Ethan attacked leaves he’d raked, waiting to see what happened. Next, Richard had driven up, parked at a haphazard angle, and ran into the house without so much as looking over. A pang of regret stung him and faded. Certain he’d seen the last of the man for the day, Ethan turned to his work in earnest.

  Not so. The front door opened and Richard came out, standing between the two winged gargoyle-like dogs or whatever the hell the things were which guarded the arched brown wooden entrance. Richard crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and…did nothing. Whatever occurred in the house since, or before, Richard’s arrival altered the man’s whole attitude. He’d walked into the house as if his feet had wings and came out wearing a brick overcoat.

  Should he leave? Not get involved?

  Ethan did the opposite, ignored good sense, moved closer, work once more nothing but pretence, trying not to make his presence obvious. The moment Richard spotted him came when the man pivoted on a heel to go inside, hesitated, and stared straight at Ethan. He glanced back into the house, but hung around on the doorstep.

  Ethan worked his way nearer, making more of a mess than tidying the leaves and shooting little glances at Richard, until the man gave him a nod which Ethan returned. At last, Richard wandered down from the step and headed in his direction.

  “All well?” A quick nod to the house was all Ethan gave as a mention of what went on inside.

  “No.”

  Though surprised by Richard’s honesty, Ethan continued to stir a pile of garden debris and waited. None of the events were his business, but an honest conversation would be a decent change. When Richard said nothing more and the seconds stretched out, Ethan asked, “Am I making a bad time worse?”

  “What?” Richard frowned, and narrowed his eyes. Chewed a little on his lip in a way which caught Ethan off guard. The urge to step up, press his lips to Richard’s, and to wipe the frown from the man’s face proved almost too strong to ignore. Ethan poked at the growing mound with the rake while he rearranged his expression to a more neutral one.

  When he stared back, Richard was gazing at the house. “It’s not…” He shook his head. “It’s hard to explain. And why do you think you make anything worse?” His pensive expression appeared to speak of genuine concern, but Ethan didn’t want to believe it. Since when did the man’s every facial tic capture his interest like this? Truth was, he searched for some clue though he wasted his time. Longing to get closer, to understand and to communicate with Richard was growth for disaster.

  “You’re the only one who makes the situation here easier.” A little colour bloomed on Richard’s cheeks. “You want to get out of here?”

  Was he serious? “Out?”

  “For a drive. Clear my head. Also…” Again Richard glanced back at the house. “There’s something I want to show you.”

  Like his dick? Somehow, Ethan doubted it and the thought came from irritation and frustration. “How am I supposed to skip out of work?”

  “Maybe say you needed to fetch some supplies. I can order you on an errand. Maybe…we can pick up some Christmas decorations.”

  “Your mother said she doesn’t want any this year.”

  “And we must all do what Mother wants.”

  Well, Richard’s tone gave Ethan some inkling as to what had gone on up at the house. When he next spoke, Richard sounded tired.

  “I want a tree for Saffie. I’ll tell Mother I told you she changed her mind.”

  “So I’m to come with you and organise a tree?”

  “We can go together.”

  How domestic. Next they’d be choosing bed linen and curtains.

  “You could just as easily say we’re going for a drink or something. We could leave when I finish up here.”

  “It’s not…” Richard was shaking his head, forehead crinkled. His shoulders were tight and his hands clenched. “Of course I can’t. She would find it…peculiar.”

  So much for testing those waters. “Why? Because I’m the hired help?”

  “Well…yes.”

  Richard’s gaze kept darting away but returned to Ethan’s face. If Ethan managed to annoy him, good. Ethan grew sick of being invisible. “She would question a friendship between us?”

  “You know she would.”

  “I won’t ask what her reaction would be if she learned we fucked.”

  Richard closed his eyes, his whole expression twisted. “Please. Don’t be like this. Not…today.”

  So much for pissing off Richard. Now Ethan’s chest grew tight. The man may as well have reached inside and squeezed his heart. Any attempt to hurt Richard tended to backfire. Before he could apologise, movement at a window caught his eye.

  “Fine, but what do you suggest? We travel in separate cars? And by the way, don’t react. She’s watching us.”

  Richard’s gaze snapped up. “We’ll take your van. Come back with a tree.”

  “Now?”

  “Now.”

  Ethan lifted his shoulders, letting them drop in a manner he hoped said it made no difference to him. “I’ll fetch the keys and meet you on the drive in five minutes.”

  Chapter 13

  Richard went inside, snatched up the shopping bags he’d brought home and hurried to his room, ignoring his mother’s call. He went in, and locked the door, bound for the en suite bathroom. Though his mother didn’t follow, the precaution of locking her out wasn’t lost on him. He might as well be a stranger in his own home, or a teenager again—locking his mother out in case she caught him masturbating.

  Following a quick ablution, he changed into his new clothes and headed back out, thoughts preoccupied. When had he last resorted to stroking his own cock? No longer needed to. He had Ethan. Least, for now. When, again, would they have time and opportunity? Now? This evening? Because it would be evening if Rich took Ethan to see what he wanted to show the man, fetched a tree, and they also had sex. Would the amount of time they spent together require an explanation?

  Rich didn’t overlook Ethan’s anger—the man’s annoyance too apparent by the way he jabbed at the leaves he’d already gathered. Ethan had every right to his feelings. Though their involvement might be casual, Ethan wasn’t someone Rich should be ashamed of seeing. He wasn’t, but he dealt too many cards, couldn’t shuffle them without some falling where they’d be forever lost. He must make Ethan understand that. Their trip out was risky, but Rich…needed to let Ethan into one of his secrets at the risk it would add to his troubles with his mother.

  He must be going crazy, acting on impulse, on desire rather than consequences and he wanted…Rich almost stopped as he reached the base of the stairs and the impact of what he wanted slapped him hard. A door opening to his left started him walking again.

  “Richard?”

  “I’m going out for a while.” He said nothing more, out the front door before his mind flowed back to Ethan and all Rich longed for. He longed to share something important in his life and he wished to share it with Ethan. As to why…now was not the time to question.

  *
* * *

  Ethan sat with the engine idling. He stared ahead, gritting his teeth. The temptation to glance back was so strong, his muscles wound tighter and tighter with each passing second. Maybe Richard wasn’t coming.

  “I’m a fucking idiot.”

  Why jump when Richard commanded? Fine, so the man was his employer but this errand likely had little to do with estate business. What did Richard think he was going to do—screw Ethan or asked Ethan to fuck him in the van? Was sex worth the irritation?

  Rather mind-blowing sex, sure, but no orgasm could be worth selling one’s soul. The passenger’s door would jerk open any moment but it wouldn’t be Richard standing there. Ruby Gardener, complete with disdainful expression—the one which made her look like she believed Ethan or some other staff member was the cause of a bad odour—would tell him to vacate the house and get off the premises. He would be unable to meet her gaze for fear of seeing red sparks in the depths. She would tell him they no longer needed a gardener and to leave within a month as per the terms of the contract his father signed so many years before.

  So vivid did the image come to mind, Ethan jumped as Richard yanked the door open. The two men stared at each other. Richard’s eyes a little too wide, as, Ethan was certain, were his own. He should be forgiven for jumping. Richard about wrenched the door off its hinges. Maybe Ethan’s imagination had slipped the tracks and the gargoyle chased Richard, not Ethan.

  Richard looked away first but only to climb in. Another surprise: Richard wore jeans.

  “Where to first?”

  “Better pick up the tree. After, I’ve an address for you to drive to.”

  * * * *

  “This one? No. This one?” Rich went from tree to tree, trying to judge which one he liked, which one Saffie would appreciate, and which his mother would complain about least. They all had their own preferences. He continued to glance over at the one which caught his eye.

  Behind him, Ethan chuckled. “Why don’t ‘cha buy the one you can’t take your eyes from?”

  Heat flooded Rich’s face, so he kept his back to Ethan. The innocent comment might carry another meaning. He stepped out of the sheltered spot into the wind in an attempt to cool down. “My tastes won’t please the women of the house. Mother has specific likes and dislikes regarding length and Saffie the same when it comes to width.”

  “More information than I needed.”

  Richard took time to connect Ethan’s reply to his words and no longer required a reason to hide his blush. “I didn’t mean…I meant height and width at the base. Oh god…” A hole should open up or time needed to reset. Ethan laughed.

  “No need to apologise. The expression on your face is priceless. And it’s fun.”

  “Fun?”

  Ethan studied a nearby tree with an over-amplified intensity. His feet shifted and his movements became jittery. “It’s fun watching your excitement. You like Christmas.” Ethan pointed at another tree.

  “I…guess I do.” Richard ambled over and examined the one Ethan indicated. “Can’t say why. Christmas is never a wonderful time for me. I always picture it as meaning family…” Richard shook off his melancholy. His thoughts were none he wished to share. “This one?”

  Ethan stared at him for a few seconds too long before nodding.

  * * * *

  “Who’d you call?” Ethan waited for Richard to tell him it was none of his business. The Satnav told him to take the second exit to the upcoming roundabout. Richard had put in a postcode.

  “An…agent.”

  A strange hesitation on the end there. What kind of agent?

  “We’re going to view a property.”

  So…an estate agent? More information than Ethan expected but not exactly forthcoming. “Becaussssse?” Ethan strung out the word.

  “You’ll see in the next few minutes. We’re almost there.”

  Ethan followed the Satnav for several more bends until Richard beat the contraption by saying, “Left into the driveway.”

  Not arguing for once, Ethan manoeuvred the car through a set of open gates and crawled along the path, not needing to go far before a white house came into view. Ethan put his foot on the brake by reaction more than intent.

  “First impressions?”

  What should he say? As buildings went, this was far grander than anything he ever hoped to live in. Did he like it? As far as mansions were concerned…yes, if a person was into that sort of thing. He pressed on the accelerator and eased forward. “It’s an improvement.” Would Richard understand what he meant? Be offended?

  Richard apparently did, and wasn’t. He laughed…a warm reverberating sound, which sent a little frisson through Ethan he both welcomed and rejected. While he wouldn’t mind more intimacy, he saw little point growing used to the feeling.

  “Better than the Gardener manor. I’ll give you that. Come and walk around.” Richard opened the door before Ethan stopped and jumped out as the vehicle jolted to a halt. Another car was parked in front and a woman got out as Richard walked toward her. Ethan followed at a slower rate, taking time to put on the handbrake and shut the door behind him and lock up. He pretended to gaze around when he bided his time, giving Richard and the woman the opportunity to talk. Ethan caught the end of their conversation.

  “Any idea how long you’re likely to be?”

  “Well, there are quite a few rooms.” Richard studied the building. “An hour maybe. I’m happy to drop off the keys.”

  The woman hesitated. “I’m sure it will be fine. So long as it’s before we close.”

  “You’ll find no reason to chase me.”

  “Any idea…?” She appeared unwilling to voice the whole question—whatever she wanted to ask—but Richard understood.

  “I’ll be able to let you know in less than a week.” The man gave the woman a smile like the one he bestowed on so many. Not the way he looked at Ethan in bed—the warm gaze and soft curve of his mouth made Ethan melt. This was Richard’s business smile, slightly plastic.

  As the agent at last noticed Ethan, a frown gave her a strange vulture-like appearance. Richard looked across. “This is Ethan Fields. An acquaintance of mine.” He hesitated; several rapid blinks aimed Ethan’s way, and added, “Brought him along to run ideas by him.”

  The woman chewed on her lower lip as if Ethan presented a problem.

  “The valuation came through?”

  The mention of money distracted her. “Almost eleven million.” She sounded more hopeful than positive.

  Eleven…what? Ethan fought to keep his expression blank. This place was worth eleven million pounds?

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” Richard took a step toward the house.

  Drawing a line. Richard was better at business than he realised, unprepared to be bullied or pay over the odds. The woman hunched, weaved a little, bent her neck, giving all the signs of disappointment.

  “Did you bring a copy of the details? I’m sorry I don’t have mine with me. I can drop it off with the keys.”

  “No. No need to. Please keep it as an extra.” The folder she produced was no simple agent’s layout, the booklet thick, and glossy. “It is over twelve-thousand square feet,” she said, holding out the brochure but not relinquishing ownership. “Closer to thirteen-thousand, actually.” Took a moment for Ethan to realise she spoke to him not Richard, like she would a prospective buyer. He resisted telling her she barked at the base of a pauper’s tree.

  “Yes. Thank you. I know.” Richard took hold of the brochure and for some reason the woman blushed. For several seconds, the two performed a tug-of-war.

  “We close at six.” She let go.

  Richard nodded. “You’ll get the keys.”

  Still she dithered, no doubt unused to being superfluous. With a final nod, she shuffled back to the car, got in, and drove off, but not without several backward glances.

  “Follow me.” Richard strode to the front door.

  The front was in fact white and cream, which Ethan noticed as h
e drew closer. The garage stood to the right. Though the door was central to an archway, like the Gardener Manor, the entrance carried a more modest appearance. Or would, if not for the columns on either side. Richard noticed Ethan staring for he said, “Yeah, I’m not a fan of the columns either. They were a mistake, but I like the overall style of the place. It’s amazing lit up at night and the topiaries on each side of the door are an improvement on our hideous statues.”

  Though Richard would never know, he rose in Ethan’s estimation by saying so.

  “It’s three floors though appears to be two from the front.”

  They went inside to a white sweep of an elegant marbled hallway. An arched galleried upper level came with the same design of black metal bannisters as downstairs. The floor contained black insets. Steps led down to a dining area large enough to host board meetings. Maybe that was its intended purpose.

  “Fabulous new residence,” Richard read from the brochure. “EPC rating A.” He stopped and stared around. “One would think it went without saying.”

  For the money…Ethan agreed. The staff house back at the manor was kind of large. Not massive but bigger than he could ever afford. They got to live there at a modest rent so he and his father had saved a fair bit…most of it gone now, but he didn’t want to dwell. Still this—a solid statement of his and Richard’s differences—came as a slap. Mad when those disparities had always been present.

  Ethan zoned out most of what Richard said, catching an occasional word or sentence as he walked from room to room, trailing behind. Everywhere he went, the black and white theme continued, with hints of grey or taupe. The style should have come across as austere but much to his annoyance the interior made him feel welcome.

  “Study.”

  Here the grey and taupe predominated but Richard would be at ease behind the black desk. Black and grey bookcases lay empty awaiting someone to fill them with books.

  “Kitchen and breakfast room.”

  Breakfast? The room was larger than some restaurants. He was happy to carry on to the…