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Lance shakes his head no, lifting me from the counter in one swift movement. “Me buried deep inside of you is where we’ll start. The rest will come.”
I smile against his neck as he carries me through the silent house and up the stairs. When we reach the top, he looks down at me in question.
My head flicks to the right. “West wing.”
He walks us down the long corridor. “Why the west?”
“If you put me down, I’ll show you.”
I pad barefoot to my room, pushing open the door and flicking on the light. I pull Lance inside and watch him as he walks further into the room.
It’s one of the smaller bedrooms in the wing, but it’s mine and decorated exactly how I want it in soft beiges and blacks. My king-size bed sits in the middle of the room against the wall, my scattered pillows making me want to evaporate when I see that I left them on the floor this morning.
To the left of the room, there’s an en suite with a walk-in shower and a large bathtub.
And although it’s likely nothing Lance is used to, his eyes seem to scan around every inch of it as if he is committing the smallest details to memory.
His head trails back as he follows the fairy lights that twist up and around the exposed wooden beams already lit up from the solar charge outside.
Stepping closer, I pull on his bicep and lead him to the curtains, drawing them back to reveal the balcony.
I feel him stiffen under my touch.
“Lance, meet my mum.”
The wildflowers sway gently under the moonlit sky we had lain beneath only moments ago. Only it’s my mother’s garden that seems to have Lance’s full attention now.
He reaches for the handle and slides the door back, lacing our fingers and stepping out onto the stone balcony. He stops once he reaches the wall, and I brace myself for what he might say. What he might think of the view I wake up to every morning.
“Shit, Scar.” He pulls his eyes away from my mother’s headstone, his eyes zoning in on me. “It’s incredible. You’re incredible.”
I wave him off. “It was her idea. I barely even know the woman.” An awkward chuckle slips out as I say it, but it’s true. I only know what’s written in her diaries and what Freya has told me.
“I don’t think we have to know everything to see that someone is good. Sometimes we’re allowed to presume.”
“Maybe.” I rock forward as I look up at him.
“You’re incredible,” he repeats.
I smile. “You said that already.”
“I’m just making sure you believe it.”
My face heats, and I dip my head before looking straight back up, not wanting to hide. “You said that sometimes we’re allowed to presume.”
He nods, smoothing a frizzy curl back behind my ear.
“I think she would have liked you. I think she’d have smiled her big smile and told me to enjoy this while it lasts.”
His lip curls up, a dark brow quirking as he shifts his body to face me. “Me and your mum, we’re like this.” He crosses his fingers together and holds them up.
I laugh and step into him, not giving him a choice but to wrap his arms around me.
His lips touch my head, and I sink deeper into him. As my hand flattens on his bare back, I feel goose bumps spread. “You’re cold.”
“I’m fine.”
Pulling back, I glance down at the garden once more, then take Lance’s hand and lead him into my room. As my eyes land on my bed, my bed that I’ve never shared with anyone before… “I have a spare toothbrush,” I say, disappearing into my bathroom.
