That scared me. Polluted the warmth that had settled deep in my belly. I’d learned that good feelings were fleeting, unable to be trusted. Something bad was always on the horizon. That’s why I worried. If I didn’t have something to worry about, it meant something bad was coming soon. So, I always had something to worry about, even if it was a made-up terminal illness.
“What are you doing?” I asked again, doing my best to push those fears away.
“Building your Practical Magic greenhouse,” he answered, as if it were obvious.
I blinked at him. “You’re building my greenhouse?”
He hummed in confirmation. “Kip’s got the plans. You want to alter them, let me know. But it’s gonna get cold soon, so I want this done for you before winter sinks its teeth in.”
He squinted at the house. “Got as close as I could to the layout in the movie, having made some adjustments.”
I struggled to comprehend this. “I told you about this last night.”
His lip twitched. “I was there.”
“I told you about this last night, and today, the next day, you’re just… building me a greenhouse?” I needed to ask the question out loud.
“Not gonna take too much time,” he shrugged. “Maybe a week. Two. We’re gonna spend a few hours after work each night, a full day on the weekends, an hour here and there whenever we’re between jobs.”
I just stared at him.
“You’re building me a greenhouse,” I repeated, but this time it wasn’t a question.
Rowan’s expression softened. “Yeah, cupcake. I am.”
I battled against the tears filling my eyes. I battled against the numerous emotions fighting for supremacy in my body right then.
The man I was kind of dating, the one I’d been attracted to for years, the one who had fucked me on the counter of my bakery earlier that day was now at my house. Building me a greenhouse.
How did one even begin to process that?
“I’m going to get a glass of wine,” I blurted out, turning then all but running from the area.
Rowan’s chuckle followed me.
Once the wine was opened and I’d downed the first glass in record time, I did the only thing I could do. I called the person I always reached out to when I didn’t know how to feel. When I was off-kilter, outside of myself.
He answered on the second ring.
“I have a guy,” I blabbered into the phone.
“In your basement?” my brother asked without missing a beat. “Make sure the handcuffs are secure.”
I smiled, cradling my glass of wine against my chest. “I always make sure the handcuffs are secure,” I told him deadpan. “But this one doesn’t need to be restrained.”
Though it was incredibly inappropriate, my mind went to what Rowan’s opinions on restraints in the bedroom would be. Sure, he was an incredibly dominant guy, and I was more than willing to submit to him, but something hot sparked inside of me at the thought of him being completely at my mercy.
Then I remembered I was on the phone with my brother, and I was a terrible, sex-crazed woman to be thinking of that in that moment.
“Oh my god, you’re thinking about restraining the guy you don’t currently have restrained,” Ansel exclaimed, reading my mind in that uncanny way of his.
The uncanny way of ours, I guessed since I could do the same with him. It made sense... We knew each other that well. We’d shared a womb. And we’d also shared a life full of traumas. We had only had each other for the longest time. There was no me without him.
“The sex must be good if you’re thinking about restraints while on the phone with your brother,” he snickered.
“Stop,” I hissed, grateful that he couldn’t see my expression. “He’s building me a greenhouse.”
I watched both Rowan and Kip moving about, purposefully, with the fluidity of two men who had worked beside each other for years.
“A greenhouse?” my brother repeated.
I nodded, watching Maggie run happily around the backyard. “Like in Practical Magic.”
“Holy fuck,” my brother breathed. “You’ve been seeing a guy long enough for him to know you and love you enough to build you a fucking greenhouse, and you’re only now just telling me?”
“I only just started seeing him,” I rushed to explain. “It’s happened… fast.”
“Fuck yes, it has,” my brother agreed.
“Is it too fast?” I asked, biting my lip. “I mean, I was engaged not that long ago.”
“To an asshole,” my brother scoffed, not one to mince words.
I winced at the memory of the one and only time Ansel had met Nathan. Sure, my brother was protective over me, even though historically, I had been the one who took care of the both of us. Boyfriends, and men in general, were when he didn’t fuck around.
He didn’t go completely crazy like a dad with a shotgun. He made an effort to get to know them. To be polite while giving off the energy he wouldn’t hesitate to put them in the ground if they hurt me.