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"What," he says, his eyes dancing in merriment. "You can say it."
"She seems like a bit of a snob," I say, shrugging, looking away.
"Oh, she's not a bit of a snob. She's a huge snob.”
“Her friend Maisy doesn't seem as well-to-do," I say in surprise.
"She's not, but yet their friendship works." He points to the roses on the right of the window. “You see those roses there?"
"The pink ones?" I ask.
"Yes," he nods.
"Yeah. What about them?"
"Maisy got my grandma a little rose bush from a farmer's market, and she said, 'Plant these.' And my grandma was like, "Those are never going to catch. It's so small. It's not big enough. You should have brought me more." He shakes his head. “Maisy told her off and now look," he says, as we stare at the vast amount of roses adorning the front of the house.
"Wow," I say, "They really took."
"They did," he says. "And I tell you this story to say that it doesn't always matter what my grandma thinks or feels initially. She’s not always right and she can’t stop something beautiful from growing.”
My heart pauses as I stare at him. What is he saying?
“You can start with with a small seed, but with love and water and time, it can grow to be something breathtakingly beautiful."
"Are we just talking about the roses now?" I ask him softly and he blinks.
"What else could we be talking about?"
"I don't know," I mumble and turn away from him again. There's a stirring in my stomach and I don't want him to see how much he affects me. He grabs my hand and stares at my engagement ring and presses my hand against his head. I can feel it racing. He’s hot to the touch and his eyes are expressive, like he’s trying to convey a message without saying it.
"I'm excited for Lila and the kids to get here." I say finally. "They're going to love this place. They're going to think they're in Disneyland or something."
"Well, not quite. We have no Mickey or Minnie here."
"That's okay. The kids will love running on the lawn. It's beautiful."
"Everest does a good job with gardening," he says with a nod.
"That's Enid's husband," I say, remembering the maid.
"Yes," he says. "Let's not talk about them though. Let's talk about us."
"What do you want to talk about?"
"I want to talk about tonight," he says softly.
"What do you mean about tonight?"
"About us and how we're going to make love without letting the whole house know that I brought you to another orgasm."
"Jackson." I blush, disappointed. I wanted to know if he had real feelings for me or if this was just about the sex.
"What? You weren't serious about the fact that you weren't going to sleep with me again, right? You and I both know that if there's one thing we both enjoy, it's making love."
"It's not making love. We're just..."
"What," he says. "Banging, fucking, sexing."
