“Oh…” She blushed. “I wasn’t thinking about that, but yeah…thank you…”
I set my tablet on the table. “I think in any other circumstance it would feel inappropriate to ask, but since you are soon to be my wife…” The word felt funny in my mouth. Like a bittersweet taste, I couldn’t quite understand whether I liked it or not. “…but would you like me to show you my house? Where you will live? It will make this agreement between us a little clearer, I think, if you know where you would be spending a significant part of your next year.”
It was a little forward of me to ask. But we weren’t exactly strangers to each other, were we?
I waited for Elly to make a snarky comment about me trying to get her to my house for diabolical reasons.
I wasn’t. But I also wasn’t very good at expressing my intentions.
She didn’t.
A simple “okay” and she began to push herself to get up. Her knee must have been bothering her more this morning because she was struggling.
I rose to help her. She protested at first but eventually gave in. Leaning against my arm and holding two crutches in her other arm, we finally made it to my car.
CHAPTER17
ELLY
He drove fast. Or maybe it just felt fast because he was driving a sports car that seemed to glide more than roll along the tarmac. Every time I opened my mouth to ask him to slow down, another blast from the wind cut me off.
I was glad when we finally made it to what he called his “humble abode.”Abode, maybe. But humble? In your dreams, Sebastian.
It wasn’t a house. It was a mansion. Literally. We arrived at the main gate, and a guard at the booth opened it with a curt nod. He might have said something in Spanish like “Good morning, boss,” but it was so low that I missed it.
As the gates began to open, my first impression was that it was sogreenin there. Like really green. I couldn’t believe you could grow so much grass or greenery!
He grinned at my awe. “You like it?”
I was still struggling with my own words, so much was there to see in the mansion’s garden as Sebastian headed up the drive to the main entryway. There, he stopped the car and came around to the passenger seat to offer me his arm.
“You don’t have to,” I murmured, feeling a little embarrassed at being so helpless.
“Please.” He nodded at his arm, his tone firm.
I looked up at him. He was wearing a short-sleeve pale blue shirt and light, khaki-colored pants, paired with rich camel suede loafers. Neat and expensive. I thought about my outfit and how I would describe the jeans and T-shirt that I’d had for years. Minimal effort. Minimal price tag.
I reached out to grip Sebastian’s arm. Beneath his shirt, I could feel the muscles of his arms bulge. I hesitated but despite my indecision, Sebastian had already wrapped his arm around to grip the side of my other arm and lifted me out of the car. His very low sports car. As I weighed nothing. He set me down gently on the gravel of the drive, and I tried my utmost to avoid his eyes so he couldn’t see the blush on my cheeks.
The first thing I noticed was the smell of the garden. It was a flower party. The aroma was strong but delicate, an almost intoxicating fragrance. It nearly knocked me back.
“The gardens are beautiful,” I whispered, in awe at the reds, blues, and yellows of flowering buds with their perfect circular shapes. The bushes beyond were trimmed tidily, bordering the steep security fence. The top of the fence was spiked, which I only noticed after I had perused the whole garden. For some reason, this made me think of metaphors.This overwhelming neatness trying to control something that wants to flourish. This cold exterior and sharp edges.
I stole a glance at Sebastian as he led me gently by the arm up the driveway. Was I being romantic in thinking Sebastian’s garden was a reflection of him?
Yes. Most likely. Sebastian is all business. He probably doesn’t even look after his garden. Just pays for someone to do it. As he does with everything.
“There are spikes?” As soon as the question came out, I sensed how silly it was. It wasn’t a question really, but a comment. As if Sebastian hadn’t noticed the spikes.
“Ah. The famous spikes. Are you stereotyping us, Miss America?” Sebastian grinned back at me. I felt my cheeks go red. That wasn’t where I was going.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant. I guess I was just surprised…we don’t have a lot of those back home…” I was stumbling over my words almost as much as I was half-stumbling over the odd pieces of gravel.
Sebastian laughed. “I’m only teasing. I wasn’t the one who put them up—that was the previous owner—but I saw no need to take down an item that didn’t need replacing.”
We were at the door already and I took one last good look at the fence. The white color gave the illusion of…of…what, exactly? A white picket fence? Coziness? Peace? And yet the spikes…
Well, Elly. Once you become Sebastian’s wife, you can always take them down.