Page 25 of Gardening and Gargoyles

June cackles and kicks her feet in her strange, low chair. “I approve of that plan. But sadly, I don’t think I could approve of the other one. I couldn’t go to Gilcreedy as anything more than a visitor. Oh. That’s what you meant, huh? I should visit you there, not live there?”

No, I mean you should live there—or anywhere that has wide spaces and surrounds you with flowers.“You belong in a place where there’s land. Lots of it.”

“I don’t need lots. Just a quarter of an acre. Heck, even a couple of metal troughs from the farm store filled with veggies and flowers would make me happy.”

My mind boggles at all I know of June and her broken romance. She wants so little, but gives freely and generously. She would be the easiest lass to keep content—and yet someone was ungrateful and squandered her love.

“I don’t want you to go back to living in the little flat in the city,” I murmur, feeling the pink and orange rays of the rising sun filling the sky. “Nor do I want you to work for such unkind people who keep you and the children caged.”

“It’s not so bad, believe me. Don’t worry about a thing. Just get some sleep. When you wake up tonight, I bet I’ll have a lot for us to do. Might as well thank Mr. Fenclan for being so nice to us.”

He’s been kind to both of us, but especially helpful to me. In my heart, I know that June really owes him nothing. Her efforts will bring him greater rewards, more money perhaps, from the people who will pay to let this lodge with its new floral splendor, and greater beauty, beauty my Lady June won’t get to see again.

“He ought to thank you for the beauty you gift him. I know I am thankful each night I gaze upon you,” I say, and then crouch in a fierce position in the garden as the sun sends me to sleep.

I LEAN AGAINST THEstatue that just spoke, heart pounding.

Thankful each night I gaze upon you.

Okay, then. New kink unlocked—I love the old-timey sweet nothings. I don’t know if that was 19th-century flirting or just him being his sweet, sincere self.

I also know that Duncan's skin is instantly the warmest, smoothest thing I’ve ever touched, like gray mother-of-pearl. It catches the light as if there were millions of crystals worked through the pores. I don’t know if he can hear me or feel my touch, and I haven’t asked his permission to touch him.

But I figure a hug is okay. I nestle in between his arms, held up with their talons out, waiting to tear the enemy to shreds, and let myself rest my head on his chest.

Come to Gilcreedy. Design a garden for a castle. Don’t go back to your crappy job and your tiny apartment.

“You’re such a good friend. So sweet. So kind. So helpful. You don’t have any other motive, you don’t know any other women... Everything about you is solid and true.

“God, Duncan, why do you make me think about crazy things, like a life with you? We wouldn’t have much, maybe, but maybe we’d have wide open spaces in the Scottish Highlands, where I could wander the heather, and you could catch deer. That’s something out of a bad Hallmark movie, right?” I kiss his knuckles. I kiss his bicep and peck his chin. My hand strokes gently over his broken wing. “I wish you didn’t have to leave so soon. Maybe... Maybe if we had another few months, this would have all worked out.”

I HAVEN’T TOLD HERyet. I haven’t told June that right as we settle to sleep, and right as we awaken, we can hear and feel things, but distantly, as if someone is speaking in a dream.

Scottish heather. Catching deer. Nothing much—but us.

My dreams are rapidly turning from sweet, sunrise kisses, to tangled limbs and claiming her in the heather she deserves to wander through. When I wake up, I know thatonepart of me will still be stone.

Fortunately, when I wake, June is distracted, talking loudly on the phone as she stands out by the large, luxury car, hauling tall, arching bowers out of it. By her feet are stacks of soil and seeds.

“Daniel, what in the world are you talking about? No, I’m not going to give my garden statue back. It’s mine.” She slaps the phone onto the edge of the open back of the car. I know she’s picked the speaker function (something I used a great deal when trying to talk to many members of my clan at once the other night), because I can now hear Daniel’s voice.

“You’re being immature. You’re just punishing me for one little indiscretion. Don’t you understand that there’s about seventeen million pounds at stake here?”

“No, I don’t understand that. Are you saying my statue is some work of art? I mean, I agree, he’s one hunky gargoyle, but I wouldn’t put that valuation on him. For one thing, his wing is busted.”

She thinks I’m hunky. I don’t know what she means, entirely, but the way her voice dips into a lower, sultry tone, even for a second, makes my waking arousal worse.

“I don’t bloody care! I need it back. This woman from the Gilcreedy Town Council says we violated some historical preservation agreement, something about any artifacts foundwithin the grounds that were of historical significance would be presented for assessment before disposal or sale. Someone must have blabbed about the broken statue.” Daniel’s voice turns low and accusatory. “I’ll just bet it was the fellow I had put his wing back on, he’s not been on the job site since.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Oh, I’ll just bet you are. If you were really sorry, you’d send it back! There are investors! People who plan to work at the resort! Between this problem and some of the construction equipment breaking overnight for no good reason...” Daniel groans.

June and I grin. “Sounds like it’s not going well.”

Daniel’s voice becomes cold and rushed.

I let out a low snarl, just imagining that this is the man who bedded her, who promised her marriage, and then abandoned her. And does he call to beg forgiveness? No. He has the gall to ask for her help. The gall to ask her to return a gift. “Isn’t it enough he broke your heart? He doesn’t get to ask ye for any damned favors!” I growl, stalking over.