Chapter Twenty-One – Rose
ROSE
Quiet Revelations
“ S top pouting.”
“I’m not pouting.”
“You know,” Oliver said, putting the token in the trolley to free it from the long line of trolleys. “Anyone would think you were hoping I’d get lost on the way here.”
I clasped my hands behind my back, whistling, and made a show of looking around innocently.
“It’s fine. You were the last person to see me. Shaun would just put you in jail, and that might be a good thing for everyone.”
“If I had that trolley, I’d ram it into the back of your legs,” I ground out.
“I know,” he said dryly. “Why do you think I’m not letting you push it?”
Damn it.
He was starting to know me a little too well.
“Where do we start?” Oliver asked, looking around at the bustling walls of garden knickknacks and solar lights. “This is more overwhelming than I thought it would be.”
I followed his line of sight, then stared at him. “Have you ever been in a garden centre?”
“Of course I’ve been in a garden centre.” He paused. “I’m usually following my mother or aunt around and just paying for it, but I’ve been in one.”
“Good Lord,” I said with a shake of my head. “Well, at least I know you have experience being a walking wallet.”
“What are you—”
I grabbed the front of the trolley and shot him a cheeky grin over my shoulder, tugging it along and making him stumble behind it.
“If you want my expert navigation skills, you’ve gotta pay up first. You owe me a watering can, and I think a goodwill gesture towards the nursery by financing this purchase would be beneficial for you and your absolute shitshow of a reputation in the village. Don’t you think so, Your Grace?”
He raised an amused eyebrow. “You know, it kind of turns me on when you call me that in such a sarcastic tone.”
“You pervert,” I shot back, directing the front of the trolley down the aisle with the watering cans. “How generously are you going to compensate me for destroying my beloved watering can?”
“Your beloved watering can?” He smirked, leaning over with his forearms resting on the trolley handle. “You weren’t very bothered about how beloved it was when I broke it after I was balls—”
“La la la la la,” I sang, drowning his words out. “Have you no decorum at all? Are you really a member of the upper class? What kind of duke goes around running such a filthy mouth in public?”
“This one.” He grinned.
I narrowed my eyes. “Will you stop?”
“Absolutely not. I enjoy seeing you blush, princess. Knowing I’m getting under your skin brings me far too much joy.”
Oh, the urge to seek out a trowel and stab him with it was almost overtaking me.
Almost.
“I’m not blushing,” I muttered, turning away so he couldn’t see my absolutely not-blushing cheeks.
Jesus.
I could not let myself get this flustered. Not when it was only yesterday that I met his mother and resolved to end whatever this weird flirtation was between us.
Because, really, I was right.
In the end, I would be the one to get hurt here, no matter what. I was going to hurt when the allotments closed, and I saw no need to add an extra helping of romantic heartbreak on top of that pain.
So, this had to end.
After this visit, when he’d replaced my damn watering can and I’d successfully extorted gardening supplies for toddlers out of him, I would tell him.
That this, whatever it was between us, had to stop.
And I really, really hated that there was a pang in my chest at the thought of it.
“Rose? Are you choosing a can, or should we move on?”
I shook myself out of my thoughts before I spiralled into a place that I feared I couldn’t come back from. “Shh, I’m weighing up my options.”
“Jesus Christ, I knew better than to bring you here.” He hung his head with a groan, and I laughed at his dramatics.
That was totally on him.
He really should have known better.
Yet, here we were.
After a careful process that involved an awful lot of fake watering and passing each one between my hands, I selected the best watering can and put it in the trolley.
The next forty minutes mostly consisted of me flitting about the place, putting things in and out of the trolley, all the while glancing at Oliver to see when he would tell me to stop.
He never did.
He simply watched me, his blue eyes glinting with amusement, and his lips twitching up to one side every now and then.
Yet our eyes never met, almost as if he were trying to hide the fact he was watching me.
His silent, almost reserved observations as I happily buzzed about from shelf to shelf seemed to tingle across my skin with the weirdest mix of comfort and discomfort I’d ever experienced.
Comfort because this felt normal. Like it was something we did every day. I could almost imagine this happening again and again—in this garden centre, in a clothing store, in the middle of a grocery store. Me, a never-ending ball of energy, and him, a calmer, more grounding presence.
And the discomfort.
Because it was so comfortable. Because it didn’t feel like something that shouldn’t be happening. Because it was something I was enjoying, something I wanted to happen, something I really could see happening in the future.
It was yet another reminder that this… whatever this was… had to end.
Before I woke up tomorrow morning dreaming about sending our kids to university or some shit.
“Okay, done.” I wiped my hands together and grinned at him. “What do you need?”
Oliver looked at the full trolley between us. “Nothing that’ll fit in here until we’ve loaded this in your van.”
“Oh, so now Ramona is good enough for you. I see how it is.” I sniffed.
“Don’t be so grumpy.” He turned the trolley and reached for me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I squeaked as he pulled me against him, and he pressed his mouth against my hair, quietly laughing.
“What are you doing? Are you trying to ruin my reputation?” I shrugged out of his hold and darted to the end of the trolley, out of his grabbing range.
“Is there anything left of your reputation to ruin, princess?”
“If you call me that again, I swear I will swing for you.”
“You’re not giving me a reason not to.” He grinned, steering the trolley as I guided it towards the registers. “The more annoyed you are by it, the more likely I am to use it.”
“You’re so lucky we’re away from anything that could viably be used as a weapon,” I muttered.
He laughed, unbothered by yet another one of my threats. Perhaps that was the problem—there were too many threats and not enough following-through on them. I prided myself on being a woman of my word, so maybe I really did just need to chop off a toe with my garden hoe or something.
Maybe whip him with a hose pipe.
No, no.
He didn’t mind when I pulled his hair or bit him, so there was every chance he’d like it. That was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.
By the time I batted away those thoughts, Oliver had already paid for everything and was waving his hand in front of my face to get my attention.
“What’s wrong with you today?” He grabbed my hand and tugged me along after him, expertly moving the trolley with his other. “You keep spacing out.”
“I…” My skin tingled when he laced his fingers through mine, pressing our palms together.
Oh.
This wasn’t good.
I snatched my hand away from him and folded my arms, tucking my hands tightly against my body. “Everyone has days like this, all right? What, am I not allowed to space out without your permission now?”
He peered back at me with knowing eyes, a smile curving his lips. “You can space out all you like. It’s the only time I can look at you without you yelling at me.”
“You—” Whatever I was going to say died on my lips at the sound of his deep laugh, and I focused my attention on the ground, following him back to the car by staring at the backs of his feet.
I wanted to say he was joking.
I wanted to say he was fucking with me, trying to piss me off, to get under my skin.
I couldn’t, because I remembered Eleanor’s words.
‘ I think he likes you .’
Two, three, four weeks ago, I’d have laughed it off and asked her if she’d lost her mind.
I’d never have considered it possible for him to have any kind of feelings for me beyond annoyance, but now that I knew I harboured feelings that weren’t only dislike and irritants, now that I’d seen that soft glint in his eye when he teased me, now that I’d felt the ease with which his fingers interlaced mine, I couldn’t.
I couldn’t laugh it off.
I could only bury it deep within me and pretend it wasn’t true. Pretend I didn’t see it, pretend I didn’t feel it. Act as though I wasn’t being betrayed by my heart. As if I wasn’t betraying myself by ignoring it all.
I needed to tell him no.
I needed to tell him that these blurred lines needed to be redrawn. I had to put a boundary back in place, one that stopped us touching each other like it was second nature.
So why was it that nothing came out? Why did I laugh and poke out my tongue instead of tell him those things? I knew I had to. I knew I needed to end whatever this was.
Why couldn’t I?
I wanted to.
Why wouldn’t my mouth form the words? Why couldn’t my brain string them together?
I was the last person on Earth anyone would consider a shrinking violet. I was the poster child for setting boundaries. I truly, truly did not give a fuck about what anyone thought of me.
Except him.
Why couldn’t I set this boundary? Why was I weak for him? Why did I care what he thought?
Why did the answers to all those questions lead me to an answer I already knew?
“You’re staring at me,” I said flatly.
Oliver’s lips pulled to one side. “I told you that’s what happens when you space out, princess.”
I pressed my lips together and turned away, hiding the heat that rose in my cheeks. “What do you need to get in here?”
“A couple of pots for the plants my mother bought. It seems she’s trying to turn her bedroom into some sort of tropical jungle, and she insisted I get her two new pots for her, and I quote, ‘new children.’”
How else was one supposed to refer to their new plants?
“You came all the way here just for two pots?” I asked.
“No, I came all the way here to replace your watering can and let you swindle me out of a fair bit of money.” He grinned. “The plant pots are a bonus.”
“And she’ll hate whatever you buy.”
“But love whatever you do because she loves you.” He nodded. “So, help me out, and choose two pots so I can be a good son.”
“Now I am glad I made you pay up first.” I sniffed and looped my fingers through the end of the trolley to guide us towards the display area with the indoor pots. “Should have charged you more.”
“If you can fit it in this trolley, I’ll buy it.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What are you trying to do? You’re being awfully nice to me.”
“Have you considered that I’m trying to win you over?”
“That’s the furthest thing from my mind,” I half-lied. “And if you are, it’s only so I’ll stop causing chaos in your life.”
He laughed, and the deep sound of it tickled the hairs on the back of my neck. “I’m not sure. I think I’m becoming rather accustomed to your chaos. Perhaps I even like it.”
“That’s the first sign you need therapy. Although, given that you’ve admitted it out loud, perhaps it’s already too late for you.” I released the trolley and wandered around one of the displays. “What size pots does she need?”
“No idea.”
“All right, what plants are they for?”
“Not a clue.”
“Do you not think that’s information you should have obtained before driving out here?”
Oliver cocked his head to the side. “She never offered it.”
So he didn’t bother to ask.
“This is why you’re a bad son,” I retorted.
“Hang on.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapped the screen, and held it to his ear.
Five minutes later, Eleanor had handed over the names of her plants and sizes of the pots, I selected two I thought she would like, and we paid for them on our way out.
“Let’s never do this again,” I muttered, strapping the pots into the backseat of his car.
“Why not? I had fun,” he replied from the other side of the car.
Yeah.
So, did I.
That was the problem.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, his eyes hardening. “I was watching you in there, you know. You enjoyed yourself.”
I sniffed, adjusting the belt around the pot. “I’m a gardener. Of course I’m going to enjoy myself at the garden centre. It’s like taking a bookworm to the bookstore and being surprised when you lose them for three hours.”
“Rose.” He reached over the backseat and cupped my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his. “It won’t hurt you if you admit that you had fun with me, you know.”
“It might. I’m not willing to take the risk,” I murmured.
“I had fun. Because of you.”
He leant in closer, and everything else melted away. There was only the warmth of his hand on my jaw, the softness of his breath as it fluttered across my lips, and the hypnotising heat in his eyes—eyes that were solely focused on me.
He was sweeping me up into his orbit, sucking me in, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Then he leant in and kissed me softly.
Oh, so softly.
Just the barest touch of his lips to mine, but it felt as though all my nerve endings came alive, singing to a song I didn’t know the lyrics of.
Never had a kiss so gentle felt like so much.
He pulled back, the tiniest hint of a smile on his face. “Come on, princess. Let’s get going.”