The Night Gardener

by E. D. Parr

  Dane tore his gaze from Zachary’s body and glanced at the sweater. The kettle boiled and he whipped around to make the coffee, thankful for the diversion.

  “Do you take sugar or cream?”

  Zachary’s voice came from immediately behind him. “Black, thank you, no sugar.”

  Dane closed his eyes to dissipate the surprise Zachary’s silent approach gave him. He edged around to face Zachary, who stood so close Dane’s composure flew clean away as his whole body reacted to the proximity of this complete hunk.

  Holy hell, he is completely gorgeous. Dane stepped sideways and picked up a mug. He handed it to Zachary. “Coffee, er, sorry, its instant. I’ve given myself a vacation from grounds and filters.” He smiled apologetically.

  Zachary studied him for a few seconds.

  Dane had the distinct feeling Zachary knew exactly what he was thinking.

  Zachary took the coffee. “Thank you. It’s great to have any sort of coffee right now.” His low voice flowed over Dane, and then he moved, walking slowly to the table where Dane’s sketchbook lay by his laptop.

  “Nice laptop. I haven’t used one in years. I’ve seen a few when they rented this place out before at this time of year.” He peered at the laptop screen then turned to Dane.

  Dane recalled what the server in the café had said. “Someone told me they stopped the off-season rentals for a time.”

  Zachary sat on a chair near the radiator where his sweater had stopped steaming. He sipped at his coffee. “This is actually good coffee—rich, and yeah, they stopped for a couple of years.”

  “Was that when you stayed here during your gardening visits?” Dane couldn’t fathom that the gardener stayed during the times vacationers leased the cottage.

  “I’ve always stayed here.” His voice grew wistful.

  Dane drank some of his coffee. “Do you often garden in the night?”

  “I like the peace.”

  Dane identified with that. “I understand. I work at night, too. I don’t get how you see what you’re doing, though.” He smiled at Zachary as the idea they were kindred spirits occurred to him.

  “I do. I suppose I should get back to it. I noticed the rose garden needs pruning before the frosts.”

  Dane glanced at the big window where rain ran in wide streams. “It’s still wet out and didn’t you say you needed to find somewhere to stay tonight?”

  Zachary shrugged his delectable, muscled shoulders. “I reckon I’ve lucked out there. I didn’t expect you to be here.”

  This didn’t exactly add up with what Zachary had said before, unless the emphatic ‘you’ was about him personally, but Dane considered the handsome man before him. The cottage had five huge bedrooms, each one with a bathroom attached. Surely, he could offer this guy a place for the night. He wouldn’t sleep until dawn, so…

  “You could have a room here. There’s plenty of space.”

  Zachary’s delight shone from his eyes. “Thank you. I’d love to stay. I will start on the rose beds tonight—let you do a little more work. I reckon my sweater is dry.”

  Dane checked the sweater. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s still a little damp. You were soaked. Let me get you something to wear.”

  Zachary gazed at him. “You are so kind.”

  Dane took the stairs two at a time to his bedroom. He gathered up a fleece lined, hooded sweater and brought it downstairs to Zachary.

  “I wish I could offer you something waterproof.”

  Zachary pulled on the sweater and zipped it up. “If I’m desperate, there’s a beat-up parka in the garden shed.”

  Dane smiled at him. “It looks better on you than me. I reckon you should get the parka before you start work.”

  Zachary walked to the door. “I’ll see you later.”

  A thrill of pleasure at Zachary’s words surprised Dane. “Sure. Just come on in when you’re ready.”

  Chapter Four

  Dane sat in front of his laptop and gazed unseeing at the architectural plan before him. He recalled what Zachary had said about the computer. It struck him as odd that a guy his own age wouldn’t have a laptop or tablet, unless, of course, Zachary had no use for computers. There was still a passable postal service and newspapers, although Dane thought they were probably destined to fade away, eventually. He shrugged.

  Zachary’s sweater still lay draped over the radiator. Dane got up and checked it. He read the label on the inside seam as he wondered if it would go in the drier. The woolen mix indicated no tumble-drying so he turned it inside out and put it back onto the radiator.

  Dane went back to work. He sat for a full five minutes just staring at the plans on the screen and then he closed the application. Zachary Yarrow filled his head. Dane could think of nothing else but the sight of Zachary’s muscled chest and blue eyes. He spent ten minutes considering how Zachary saw well enough in the dark to prune rosebushes, and if the guy was warm enough out in the night. Then exasperated with his lack of work, Dane opened his sketchbook and picked up his drawing pencil.

  After an hour, he put down his pencil and leaned back from the drawing. Dane had added extensive gardens to the plans. He laughed aloud. His usual practice of working until dawn wasn’t going to happen. At one AM, he’d achieved next to nothing. I don’t know why I’m laughing. I can’t write and now I’m doodling gardens...

  He stood and walked to the window. The rain had slowed and Dane gazed out into the night, seeing only dark and darker shapes that in daylight were shrubs and small trees.

  The back door opened and Zachary strode through.

  A wave of happiness put a smile on Dane’s face. He had no idea why it pleased him so much that Zachary was back but it did. “Hey, did you prune the roses?”

  Zachary walked to him. “Not even half the bed. For some reason I couldn’t concentrate tonight.”

  Dane offered a suggestion. “Maybe it’s the rain.”

  Zachary shook his head. “Nope, I’ve been able to work in the rain before, lots of times in fact.”

  “Perhaps you’re tired. Do you work here during the day, too?” Dane remembered Zachary saying he liked the peace of night, but not that he didn’t work on the gardens during the day.

  Zachary leaned on the sink unit. “Not usually. I work here at night.” He slipped off the old parka that he must have retrieved from the garden shed and tossed it over a chair back.

  Dane watched the coat flop over the chair then flicked his gaze to Zachary.

  “There’s some brandy in the larder. Do you fancy a nightcap?”

  Zachary’s eyes glittered. “That sounds great. I know where the glasses are.” He walked to one of the wall cupboards and opened it.

  Dane went to the larder and brought out the brandy. A melody entered his memory and he hummed it as he approached the kitchen table where Zachary had placed the glasses. He poured the brandy and then pushed the fragrant cork back into the bottle.

  Zachary picked up a glass and sat, his long legs stretched out in front of him by the radiator at that end of the room. “I don’t often have the chance to sit with someone like this. It’s great.”

  Dane joined him and sipped at the drink. “I used to have someone, months ago.” He spoke the words softly, not sure it was appropriate to be so open with Zachary so soon, and yet he wanted to tell him.

  “What happened to them?” Zachary sat up and leaned toward Dane, his eyes wide with curiosity and concern.

  “They jilted me. The person I was to marry left me waiting at the venue with all our friends and family.”

  “Fucking hell, that’s rough. Have you seen him since?”

  Dane wondered how Zachary knew it was a man. “No, but he messaged me a few weeks later wanting to pick up his belongings.”

  Zachary took a drink of his brandy.

  Dane couldn’t resist the question. “How did you know it was a guy?”

  His guest smiled. “I saw the way you looked at me earlier. Don’t worry I’m into guys, too. You’re safe from de
rision.”

  A sweep of tenderness and puzzlement went over Dane. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if Zachary had been the subject of contempt for his sexual preference, but he drank some brandy instead.

  Zachary leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “He’s a fool. His loss, but I get to have your company, so…”

  A tingle went down Dane’s spine. “Zachary, do you spend the entire off-season here—gardening, I mean?”

  Zachary grinned. “Every night.”

  The words were out of Dane’s mouth before he knew it. “I’m here for eight weeks, alone. You can stay here … if you want, instead of finding a hotel or other accommodations.” He cringed just a little. Did I sound needy?

  Zachary’s eyes sparkled with happiness at the offer. He smiled and leaned over to place a hand on Dane’s arm. “Thank you, I do want to. I’d love to. No one’s actually offered before.”

  A question popped into Dane’s mind, but he couldn’t quite form it. He knew there was something strange about Zachary’s statement, but pushed it away under a spell of attraction to the handsome man.

  “That’s settled then. I took the bedroom that looks out on the river, so take you pick of the remaining rooms. There are linen and quilts in the big press at the end of the landing, oh and towels are there, too.”

  Zachary gazed at Dane, his eyes ranging over his face. “Your name is interesting. I’ve never come across anyone named Dane before.”

  “I’m named after my great grandfather. My mom liked the name since she was a child. She told me she’d always planned to name her son, Dane, if she had a son.” He smiled, remembering his mom’s words.

  Zachary’s eyes filled with an emotion Dane read as affection. It sent warmth through him.

  “I like it, too. It has a warrior-like ring to it.”

  Dane fought a strong urge to hug Zachary. “Thank you, although I’m more of a bard than a warrior.” Dane’s need to know more about his guest’s life had him pick up the brandy bottle and offer Zachary another drink.

  Zachary shook his head. “Better not. I’m keeping you from your work. I don’t usually sit for so long myself…”

  Dane hurried to assure Zachary. “I stopped work for the night. To be honest, motivation’s deserted me. I don’t know what’s going on.” He laughed softly before he continued. “The place has already worked its magic on me. I came to recharge my energy, and although I wanted to work, I’ll take being refreshed.” He stopped talking under Zachary’s intense gaze.

  “You’re the first person to notice the magic.”

  A prickle went up Dane’s spine. From somewhere deep inside came an unbidden thought. There’s something magical about Zachary… Dane gave a rapid shake of his head, as if the physical movement could dislodge the strange thought, because he didn’t mean Zachary was delightful, even though he thought that, too—Dane meant supernatural.

  Zachary stood and took the pace to where Dane sat. He leaned over Dane, and in a mesmerizingly slow move, he brought his lips to Dane’s mouth. The unexpected kiss set Dane’s heart pounding with the tenderness and extraordinary sweetness it contained. Instinctively, he lifted his hands to run his fingers into Zachary’s hair and hold his head to prolong the kiss. Streaks of pleasure thrilled down his stomach and hardened his cock.

  When Zachary drew away, Dane had a difficult time letting him go.

  Zachary straightened. His glass still held a mouthful of brandy and he downed it in a gulp. His sigh as he put down the glass held anything but regret. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

  Dane needed to say something. His heart still pounded. His body had gone into overdrive and desire surged through him. “It was surprising, but delicious. No need to be sorry. It’s been a long time since anyone kissed me like that.”

  Zachary bowed his head. When he raised his face again, Dane saw tears glisten in his eyes.

  “I’ll finish the pruning.” He dragged on the parka.

  Dane stood to watch him. “Hey, I’ll leave the back door unlocked for you.” There was no answer and Dane gazed around the empty kitchen. He placed his fingertip on his lips, remembering the kiss. That was so good. I’d sure like more of those kisses. Dane smiled.

  He had no idea how it had happened, but it was close to five. By the time I shower, it’ll be dawn. Dane put the glasses he and Zachary used into the dishwasher. He checked Zachary’s sweater. Dry. Dane smiled as he folded it and left it on the table.

  Chapter Five

  Usually Dane had no trouble falling asleep, but he tossed and turned until finally he realized he was listening for Zachary’s arrival. Stop it. Will I even hear him? Surely, a bedroom door closing or something…

  A pale sun had traveled high into the sky by the time Dane woke. He sprang out of bed and the first thought that came into his head was of Zachary. I wonder what time he wakes up?

  Dane made coffee. He found bacon in the fridge and put strips in the grill pan with halved tomatoes. He stared out of the window as he waited to turn the bacon over to cook the other side. Dane glanced around. Zachary’s sweater still lay on the table. He did a quick check of the coat hooks on the wall by the back door—no sign of the parka.

  Dane found a plate and forked the bacon and tomatoes onto it. He sat to eat and thoughts of the night drifted through his head. The kiss from Zachary had sparked hope in Dane that he might have love again. He finished his food and drank the remains of his coffee, trying to squash it. Don’t hope too much. It was just a kiss.

  He put his plate, cutlery, and pan in the dishwasher. He pulled on his boots and jacket. The urge to explore the huge grounds took him out the door and down a path. It wound around past the living room with the big French windows and along to a landscaped area of garden holding square beds of rose bushes in a geometrical pattern.

  Half the bushes had been pruned. Zachary didn’t finish the job after all. The white gravel of the path around the rose beds crunched under Dane’s feet as he wandered along. He found a way that led to the river and walked on the path that followed it.

  Some way along Dane stopped as a strange feeling came over him. The air grew even chillier there. Tall reeds speared the surface of the river water and swayed collectively in the light wind toward him as if trying to snare him and pull him under.

  Dane backed away. His back contacted the low hanging branch of a tree and he spun around, convinced for a second it was someone’s arm pushing him into the freezing depths. He saw the leafless tree behind him and the prickle of fear that had blanketed his body dissipated. Crap, I’ve written too many mystery stories. It’s just a fuckin’ tree. All the same, Dane turned and retraced his route to the cottage. Funny how that tree is one of the only deciduous ones I’ve seen here, aged too.

  Dane went into the cottage expecting Zachary to be there making coffee or food before night fell and he went off to garden. There was still no sign of him. Dane wandered around the downstairs part of the house, stopping to gaze out of each window at the differing views of the garden. The place was old, perhaps two hundred years old, lovingly cared for, and tastefully modernized, but Dane fancied he could feel the age as if the lives of people who’d lived or visited there vibrated from its walls.

  He shook off the weird feeling, attributing it to his experience on the riverbank, and then deciding that must have been because it was late afternoon and winter. With a sigh, he walked back to the kitchen. Courtesy stopped him from checking on Zachary, although he hadn’t imagined the man would sleep so long.

  Dane hadn’t occupied any of the downstairs living areas, but on his perusal moments ago, he’d found a small room with a couch and a TV. The room looked out onto the south side of the gardens and holly trees festooned the adjacent wall dividing the cottage from what Jackson Montgomery called ‘the big house,’—thinking about the phrase put a smile on Dane’s face.

  Dane made some coffee and brought it with him to the room. He felt the radiator and turned up the temperature at the dia
l where the heated water pipe joined the metal corrugations.

  He couldn’t find a remote so he switched on the TV at the buttons integrated into the smoked glass front. He flopped onto the couch and as the room became cozy, he drank his coffee and watched TV. It was useless trying to work. Dane couldn’t wait for darkness to fall. He planned to go into the garden and find Zachary.

  Night fell as Dane channel surfed. He didn’t normally watch TV and an unexpected fascination with a number of the shows grew, but still half his attention went to listening for Zachary. Dane stood and went to the window. The night sky held a moon and clouds scudded across it. It might not be so cold tonight and, yay, it’s not raining.

  He pulled on his jacket and stepped out. Dane used his phone as a flashlight in the darker parts of the garden. His hopes of finding Zachary faded as he crisscrossed the grounds, and then when he drew near, from the garden shed came the sound of singing. Dane smiled. One of my favorite songs and he sings it well.

  Dane had no doubt it was Zachary who sang. He opened the door and stepped inside.

  Zachary stopped cleaning the pruning shears he held and looked up.

  “Dane, it’s good to see you.” His smile of welcome set Dane’s heart pounding.

  “Good to see you, too. You sound happy. Great song. I heard you singing.” The phrases mirrored his heartbeat.

  Zachary put down the cloth he cleaned with and came to Dane. He pushed his arms around Dane’s neck, though their bodies barely touched. “I love that song. I am happy. If I can be honest, it’s because of you. I’m glad I met you. I’m a little out of practice, but it seems to me that you like me. I want that. It’s time there was love in my life. I hope you’ll let me know if that’s not a possibility, because right now all I can think about is you.”

  Happiness blanketed Dane. He slipped his arms around Zachary’s waist and pulled him closer, so that Zachary’s hard body molded against his. His lips were so close to Zachary’s he could barely answer. He wanted a kiss so much. “Yes, yes, it’s more than a possibility. You’re all I can think about.” Dane gave in to his raging desire and kissed Zachary. The sweetness and passion in the kiss closed his eyes. He clung to Zachary and took the kisses Zachary returned. They swamped him in tenderness, like gifts to his soul.