The Garden (Lavender Shores Book 2)

by Rosalind Abel

  “You could seriously eat more already?”

  He patted his flat stomach. “I’m a big boy.”

  Yes, he was. A big, sexy boy. Man. I slid my hand over his thigh, letting it rest there. “That sounds perfect.”

  I’d brought other clothes, and I changed into them as Walden freshened up in the bathroom. After he changed as well, leaving off his glasses, he got to work scooping ice cream onto the cobbler after I microwaved it.

  He gave me a funny look as he plopped on the last scoop. “You’re staring. I hear that’s rude.”

  “I’m not staring. I’m lusting. Very different things.”

  Walden scoffed. “Lusting after the ice cream I bet.”

  “Hardly, though the ice cream doesn’t hurt. I never realized how many muscles were required to scoop ice cream. It’s like a flexing competition in here.” I reached out and thumped his crotch lightly. “Plus, I love the way your cock flops behind your pajama bottoms every time you move. Chances are high that I’m developing a flannel fetish as we speak.”

  His cheeks flushed, but he looked pleased. “Well, don’t get turned on too much. I hate melted ice cream.”

  This time I gave his bulge a slow stroke. “I think other parts of your anatomy are saying they don’t mind ruining dessert.”

  He shoved a bowl in my direction, forcing me to take it, then readjusted his growing erection—lifting the hem of his tank top and fixing his cock behind the waistband, so the head of his dick was visible just before he dropped his shirt over it once more.

  “You’re killing me.” I reached for him again, but he swatted me away.

  “Dessert. Trust me, there’ll be the other kind of dessert later.”

  “I didn’t know you were evil.” I glowered at him. “I think I’m having a change of heart.”

  He shrugged. “I can’t play easy to get all the time. You’ll lose interest.”

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Because that was the most untrue thing I might have ever heard. At this point, I couldn’t imagine him doing anything that would make me lose interest.

  Stepping past, Walden carried his bowl toward the sliding glass door, flipped a switch, and opened them to the night.

  I walked outside and froze in place, sex temporarily forgotten—which I would’ve sworn wasn’t possible.

  The garden had been spectacular during the day, but compared to the night, it was nothing. The front strip next to the house was still normal, but just past the little bridge, another world awaited. Soft lights were everywhere, but not haphazard, each intentionally placed. Highlighting the bark of the tree here, the crags of a rock there. Glowing puddles over the stepping-stone paths. An amber lamppost farther back than I’d realized the garden went. And above it, lights wove in and out of the tree branches, like a hovering night sky.

  Though I hated to look away, I turned to gape at Walden. “Seriously? You did this?”

  There was that look of pride he’d had before. As handsome as he always was, that expression was definitely my favorite look on him. “Well, not the electrical. That I needed help with, but yeah, pretty much.” He took my hand. “Come on.”

  It really did feel like entering a different world as Walden led me over the bridge and down the winding cobblestones. Within a matter of seconds, closer than I’d thought, we stepped into a little clearing with the lamppost at the edge. An iron-and-wood bench sat beside it, shadowy vines creeping up its metal swirls. There was a thick brown blanket filling most of the small open space.

  “I brought the blanket out here really quick while you were in the bathroom. I don’t normally have it set up for this.”

  “You should; this is a perfect place to bring all your men.”

  He hesitated, and I thought I detected a hurt tone when he spoke. “I’ve never brought anyone here. I hadn’t slept with anyone after the bathhouse. At least before you.”

  I’d forgotten. Though I wasn’t sure how. I turned to him, and the sincerity in my voice nearly startled me. “Thank you, Walden. I don’t deserve to be the one you chose, but I’m so glad I am.”

  He smiled, though there was a touch of sadness to it. “One day we’re going to believe we deserve each other.” He gave a little shake of his head and lifted his bowl. “Why is it, exactly, that you want to ruin dessert?”

  I laughed and walked over to the blanket, then sat by the lamp. “Eat away, big man. Eat away.”

  “Oh, I will.” He settled down beside me, resting his back on the edge of the bench, but close enough that his knee pressed against mine.

  We ate in silence for a few minutes, though it was back to being a pleasant sound.

  The longer we sat there, the more I realized it wasn’t silent at all. Not even close. The night sounds were loud. Insects chirping and singing. The slight breeze overhead, the leaves rustling, their movement causing the lights to flicker, making them look even more like stars. The babbling of the brook making its way under the bridge, which was now out of sight, completed the sense of being enveloped in a magical woods.

  I felt safe, protected. The only place in Lavender Shores I’d felt that was at my parents’ home. But even then, not like this. There was too much history there. Too much hurt. This garden was unlike anything I’d ever seen or been in. And even if it was in Lavender Shores, it was its own place, somehow. Outside of the town’s influence. Outside of the choices I’d made there, the lives I’d hurt, the lives that had hurt me.

  Donovan’s words from earlier in the day tickled my memory. He’d told me to think about how I’d described Walden’s garden the next time I was in it.

  How had I described it?

  I only had to think for a second before I remembered. I’d said Walden had somehow transformed it; he’d kept some of the wildness but made it into something beautiful and wonderful.

  I didn’t even have to consider why Donovan had wanted me to remember that. Now that I was there, with Walden beside me, it was obvious. And a little on the nose, to be honest. I was the garden. Wild, untamed, waiting for someone to help clear away the thorns so I could bloom.

  God, it was disgusting… sickening. Sickening is what it was. And horribly disempowering and pathetic. That after all these years. After all the therapy. After all I’d battled and fought and overcome, I’d needed someone to make me okay. Seriously?

  I looked at Walden. He was somehow even more beautiful in the soft amber lighting, surrounded by his garden. With his size and his beauty, he really could be supernatural. An ancient Greek god of nature—or of growth, or of plants, or some shit.

  He smiled nervously. Maybe he could feel my thoughts. Maybe he was having some of his own.

  Well, that was obvious, wasn’t it?

  I wasn’t the only one with a past, with choices that haunted me.

  Then Walden’s words flowed over me as well, playing over Donovan’s. I couldn’t keep silent. “You said that one day we’d believe that we deserve each other.”

  He waited, then placed his bowl aside before looking back at me. “Is that a question?”

  “No. Just… thinking about… everything.” Maybe it was the garden and its magic. Or maybe I was losing my fucking mind, but I thought the words and I said them, before I had time to reconsider and stuff them away. “I love you, Walden.”

  His eyes widened, and he breathed out a slow breath of wonder. “I, ah, didn’t expect you to say that so soon.”

  I raked my fingers through my hair, feeling the need to move. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to freak you out.”

  “You’re not.” He chuckled. “Well, you are, but I’m freaking myself out too. But I don’t think that’s an unreasonable sensation, considering how things are going.”

  I should’ve held my feelings back. What sane person would announce they loved someone so soon, the way I did. “I don’t wanna make it worse. Can we pretend I didn’t just say what I said?”

  He took the bowl from me and placed it inside the other, then grasped my hand in his. “I did
n’t mean you said it too soon, just that I thought you’d wait longer. I’m glad you didn’t. I figured it was pretty that I love you too. I was afraid I’d freak you out if I said it, though.”

  My heart leaped. I was pretty sure it leaped for joy, but I wasn’t entirely certain. “You love me?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I love you.”

  “That does kinda freak me out, to be honest.”

  He chuckled again. “I figured. It does me too.”

  “Really?”

  Another nod.

  “Good.” Why the hell was that good? Two freaked-out people were worse than one. But somehow, it made me feel less alone. I met his gaze, colorless in the light of the lamppost. “It’s too soon, right? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Walden shrugged. “Does it have to make sense?”

  “Shouldn’t it?”

  Another shrug. “I don’t know.” He winced. “I hate to bring up Levi right now, but we took our time. Dated for months before either of us said I love you. And we made sense. At least I thought we did. I think….” He paused, and I thought he was considering the truth of his words. I loved that he did that so often as he spoke. “I think that actually makes me trust this more. And that you’re nervous about it too. It makes it real. Right?”

  I didn’t answer for a bit. I glanced up, studying the lights amid the leaves, with the moon shining behind them. “My therapist said something today. Actually, he highlighted something I said, kinda.” Fuck, I’d just told him I loved him, and now I was talking about therapy. How completely unsexy was that?

  “Wanna share?”

  Not in the slightest. I met his gaze again. “It was all along the idea that, like your garden, I’ve been waiting for someone to come along and”—God, this was humiliating—“help me bloom.”

  I expected a laugh or even repulsion. That wasn’t how being a man worked. How being an adult worked. You fixed yourself. You didn’t wait for love to do it for you. You fixed yourself, and then you earned love.

  Walden slipped his fingers between mine and squeezed. “So, help you believe that you deserve me?”

  To my shame, I nodded.

  “You do deserve me.” Walden let out a shaky breath. “But I’ll love helping you believe that. If you’ll help me believe I deserve you.”

  How the hell could he ever think he didn’t deserve me? He was so far above me. But that was the point, wasn’t it?

  “We’re both kinda fucked-up, huh?”

  Walden laughed again, soft and relaxed. “I think everybody is.”

  I started to say that was a dim view of the world, even though it was one I subscribed to, when a glittering light over Walden’s shoulder caught my attention. I narrowed my eyes in disbelief. Then I realized that little glowing lights were flicking here and there all over the yard. “Are those fireflies?”

  “Wha—” Walden gave a little shake of his head and then grinned. “Oh, no. They’re lasers I installed. I have them on their lowest level. There aren’t any lightning bugs here, and it was the one thing I missed from home. This was as close as I could get.”

  I couldn’t hold back a laugh as I looked around. There wasn’t a ton, just enough to make it believable. I wasn’t sure how I’d missed them before. “You are some kind of magic, Walden. Or at least you’re able to make magic, which might be even better.” I leaned into him and gave him a quick kiss before pulling back to whisper words I never dreamed I’d want to say. “If you were really magic, you’d make a condom appear so I could make love to you.”

  A wicked grin grew, and he shifted so he could fit his hand in his pocket. He held out a packet of lube and a condom. “I don’t know if I’d call it magic as much as really wanting you to… make love to me out here.”

  Twenty

  Walden

  There’d been moments when I was ripping out the underbrush in the jungle my yard had been that I’d allowed myself to picture a scene like this. With a man who had my heart, as I prepared to give myself to him. Each time I’d had a thought like that, I’d shoved it away. I was done with love. I’d had my taste. It started sweet but turned so very bitter.

  The garden was for me. I’d dreamed of living in Lavender Shores since the first time my family drove through it. When I finally got here and Regina Bryant took me on a tour of the house, it had been the yard that had made my final decision to really leap. I’d dreamed of Lavender Shores. I hadn’t dreamed of the garden. But as soon as I saw it, such a tangled and choked mess, I knew this was what I needed as much as the town itself. A refuge all my own.

  Despite the moments I’d considered—maybe even longed for—someone to share it with, ultimately I crafted the space exactly how I wanted it. And though the blanket fit under the lamppost perfectly, that spot had been designed for me to escape even my house, leave whatever papers I had to grade behind, and retreat here. Read a book, take a nap, meditate, do absolutely nothing but breathe.

  I hadn’t thought Gilbert would say he loved me when I’d made the decision to bring him into my sacred place. I knew he did, but I’d have bet he was weeks away from saying it. It had been enough to know that I loved him. That even though I wasn’t sure what the next day might bring, I was experiencing feelings I thought were gone forever. And some feelings that were new.

  But this was right. This moment in the garden with Gilbert. Granted, there were no spoken promises of what was to come, but I felt them, whispering through the leaves, twinkling in the lights, solid in the grass under our feet, from the depth of Gilbert’s eyes.

  I lay the condom and the small packet of lube on the blanket, took Gilbert’s face between my hands, and kissed him, trying to say with my body what I hadn’t even fully grasped yet with my mind. I crawled over him as we kissed, rising to my knees and moving up his body until I straddled his lap.

  Gilbert slid his hands under my tank top and grazed my back, sending chills over my skin. Even through the flannel fabric of my pants and the jersey knit of his, I could feel his cock pressed against my ass. I ground my hips against him as we kissed. He groaned into my mouth, and his nails slid down my spine, making me arch again.

  I broke the kiss and pulled my shirt off, desperate to have his skin next to mine.

  “Fuck.” He dipped his head and flicked his tongue over my nipple as he closed one hand over the other side of my chest and squeezed. “I love how stacked you are.” He gave a little slap over my chest. I flexed in response. More an automatic reaction than anything else. He laughed darkly. “Hell yeah, my man, show off for me.” Feeling stupid, I flexed again and received another smack, then a squeeze, then another flick of his tongue.

  One of his hands dropped to my crotch, squeezing my erection through the flannel. “Seems you like that, huh?” He pulled the waistband down slightly and ran his thumb over the slit of my cock. “And already wet.”

  I hissed and thrust against him, feeling his dick press against my ass and his hand circle my cock. The night was cool, but it only added to the tingling sensation against my skin.

  He pulled at my pants. “Get these off.”

  I rose and pulled off my pajama bottoms in a swift move, the night suddenly colder, but it made my dick twitch.

  Gilbert laughed again. “I love that too. Make your cock bounce for me.”

  I stood there, suddenly nervous. Completely self-conscious.

  His gaze left my dick and met my eyes. “Don’t go conservative on me now. I want you to show off that gorgeous body of yours.” He paused. “Hold on.” He ripped off his shirt, then repositioned so he was lying on the blanket as I stood above him. “There, straddle me right above my waist, let me look at you.”

  I was a little less nervous with him shirtless. My arousal took over at the sight of his muscled naked torso in the midst of my garden, his erection straining to free itself from his pants. I did as he commanded, moving closer and then standing above him, one foot on either side of his hips.

  “That’s it, bounce that fat cock for me.”

/>   I did.

  He growled and lifted his hands to run them over the back of my calves.

  I bounced it again, a drip of precome landing on his cheek.

  “Fuck yes.” He let go of one of my calves, reached up, and scraped the precome off with his thumb, then sucked it into his mouth. His gaze never left my dick.

  Another bounce. Another groan. His hands back on my skin. His desire washed away whatever remained of my nerves or my pride or whatever had held me back. It made me ache for him. I reached down and stroked myself.

  “Hell yeah, Walden, work that big dick for me. Show it off.” Gilbert’s hands never stopped moving as he watched, making me squirm from the hyper-sensation.

  I gave another couple of pumps, then squeezed my cock at its base and ran my fist slowly up its length, forcing out more precome and then scooped it up with my fingers.

  His gaze rose to mine. “That’s it. Taste yourself.”

  Lifting my fingers to my lips, I sucked them and groaned. Maybe I groaned from the salty sweet taste or from the heat that poured from Gilbert’s gaze as he watched. Whatever it was, I was pretty sure I could shoot my load then and there if he gave the command. I sank to my knees, straddling him once more. I lowered my wet fingers to my cock, gathered more precome which was flowing freely by this point, then touched them to Gilbert’s lips.

  He devoured them. Wrapping his mouth around my fingers and licking across them, his gaze still firmly on mine.

  With my free hand, I reached behind and slid my fingers into his pants, wrapped around his hard thickness, and pumped.

  Something about the feel of him caused my brain to snap. I pulled my fingers out of his mouth, lifted just enough to yank his pants to mid-thigh, then straddled him again, lining him up against my hole, and pushed down.

  The head of his dick slid in, and I sighed contentedly.