Chapter Thirty-One
One Month Later
Gunnar was weeding the garden when there was a soft knock at the gate to the backyard.
He’d always thought about having some raised beds with veggies and some flowers and putting in some fruit bushes but hadn’t gotten around to it. This year, though, he had time on his hands and needed to keep busy—a man could only do so many pull-ups and box jumps. Plus, Twyla had never had a garden but said she’d always wanted one. Well, she’d have one.
It had been a month since Twyla left and he missed her like crazy. He’d text Eric every few days to make sure Twyla was okay, see if she needed anything, but the bastard would always reply:
Marni and I have got it covered. Patience, man.
This was the worst kind of patience. But that knock on the fence…
He looked up from where he’d been mercilessly yanking out any plant that didn’t belong, and there she was.
Long, red hair with hints of gold that glinted in the sun, bright green eyes—and he absolutely noticed the bags under her eyes, that she looked tired—but also the blush in her cheeks told him she was healthy, that she’d been eating and taking decent care of herself. Or that Marni and Eric had been taking care of her. Didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was here, and looking stunning in a blue and yellow striped sundress. Absolutely darling.
He pushed to his feet, yanked off his work gloves and wiped his hands on his shorts. God he wished he were freshly showered and looking nice instead of sweaty as fuck and in dirt-covered ancient clothes that should probably be in the scrap heap. Fuck it, there was no time to change. Not like he would ask her to wait. Oh hell no, not after wishing for this moment for over a month.
“Can I come in?”
Gunnar hated that she asked. Wanted her to just walk in like she owned the place, because she did, along with owning him.
His certainty that she was the one for him hadn’t waned at all while she’d been gone, but in fact strengthened because he thought about her all the time. Made plans with her in mind. Exhibit A, this garden he was sweating over.
If she told him to fuck off, that was one thing, but until then his world would revolve around her.
“Yeah, of course,” he said. “Please do.”
Twyla unlatched the gate and stepped into the yard. Her skirt was cut just below the knee and she was wearing denim espadrilles and he wanted to pick her up, swing her around, and kiss her silly.
Her eyes lit up when she saw the garden he’d been cultivating. “You planted a garden.”
“For you.”
He wasn’t sure if she would cringe because she was here to end things for good and he would sound pathetic with his proclamation, but he had to say what was in his heart. She needed to know.
But she didn’t flinch, didn’t deny him.
“Will you tell me what everything is? They all just look like plants to me.”
She pursed her lips, embarrassed, and he had to smile. Curious little girl, and he’d like to think he’d helped her learn it was okay to ask questions when you didn’t know the answer.
“Of course I will. But could we, maybe talk first? About where you’ve been? What’s been going on? I’ve been…”
Lost without you.
Missing you like crazy.
Thinking about you day and night.
“I’ve been worried about you.”
Still true, but a little less intense than his other thoughts.
Twyla looked down at the grass that he’d mowed earlier that morning, rolled her lips between her teeth. “I know, and I’m sorry. It was just… I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
He had been hurt, by her leaving. But he wouldn’t say that. “Hurt by what?”
Gunnar bit back thelittle girlthat wanted to follow, just barely.