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“No, kitten,” he murmurs before lowering his lips to mine, “thank you.”
Chapter Twenty
Molly
Four and a half hours may be a long time to contemplate life for some, but it’s not nearly long enough to give my heart the answers it’s aching for.
Before leaving Seattle, Rowan asked if I wanted to get a hotel room, stay the night, and spend the day in the city, but seeing my hand beside his on that mural left me every shade of confused.
All I could think about was getting home, but the problem is, I don’t know where home is anymore.
Every day closer to our wedding has me questioning what we’re doing here. We’re still playing pretend, but my growing feelings for Rowan are anything but fake. There’s no use denying our attraction to each other—but is that all this marriage will be?
I wrap my arms around Reginald’s neck once we exit underground. “Thank you for taking care of us today.”
“It’s my pleasure, Miss Molly.” The spicy aroma of his aftershave warms my nose when he hugs me back. “And just so you know, you were absolutely radiant this evening.”
“Thank you,” I say, smiling as I smooth my hands down my dress.
I was too exhausted to change on the way back, falling asleep in the comfort of Rowan’s arms and the darkness of the plane. But those eyes keep lingering on me, and each glance is more sinful than the last.
He secures the bookcase before clapping a hand on Reginald’s shoulder. “It’s two in the morning. Why don’t you take tomorrow off? Surely, we can take care of things around here for a day.”
“Nonsense.” Reginald scoffs, but his features soften when Rowan moves to wind his arm across my back. “It’s been quite some time since this manor had light and love within its walls. Witnessing you two bring life back to this place has brought me great joy.”
An inkling of unease slithers through my chest, building on the daze I’ve been in since we left Seattle.
The idea of Sam taking over the estate pinches my insides with sadness. He seems like a decent guy, but I’ve regrettably grown attached to my friends here and the manor.
To the staff, and the rest of Magnolia Creek, we’re happy, blissfully in love, soon-to-be newlyweds. But what will happen to them once we’re divorced?
What will happen to us?
We see Reginald out, and when the door snicks shut, the silence in the house is palpable.
Today was a long, emotionally taxing day, and I half expect him to excuse himself to do whatever it is he does at this hour every night.
Instead, he releases the handle and asks, “Tired?”
“Surprisingly, no,” I say. “You?”
Rowan slowly shakes his head. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”
The only sound in this part of the house is my heels quietly clicking against the marble. There’s a pulse of anticipation thumping through the foyer as I follow him to the main living room.
He raises a finger, smiling boyishly when he steps in the direction of the study. “Wait here.”
A ripple of excitement flitters through me as I patiently wait for him to return. When he does, he’s stripped out of his tux jacket, carrying a red, leather-bound book.
I take it from him, examining the dirt smudges on its cover and the nicks in its gold sprayed edges. “What is it?”
Rowan shrugs, endearingly timid. “A gardening journal,” he says. “It was my mom’s.”
I open it to find sketches, photos, and descriptions of various plants, flowers, and seeds. I trace the loops of her beautiful handwriting, overwhelmed with emotion.
“I’m prepared to help you with the wholesaler.” I start to refuse him, but he stops me by raising a hand. “But I thought this might help you better understand the flowers you claim to hate so much. Maybe there’s a simple answer between those pages that could bring you peace where Jeanie’s shop is concerned.”
Hearing her name on his lips steals the air from my lungs. “This… Rowan, this is unbelievable. Thank you.”
