Page 117 of Seasons of Love
“You answered the advertisement. I’m assuming you have at least a better understanding of this mess than I do.”
He walks inside, and it takes me a moment to catch up to him. “But—”
“Let’s talk about the details inside. I have it on good account that my coffee is second best to Bittersweet’s.” Then he puts his hand on his chin. “Or maybe that’s because it’s free. I’ll let you be the judge of that.”
“I’ll just check in on Sara.” I head to the living room and crouch by the stroller. She’s still happily awake and babbling to the music on the TV. “One of these days we’ll get you one, I promise. Until then, I guess you’ll have to live with my terrible voices when I read your books.” I kiss her head and return to the kitchen, where Ellis has a cup of coffee and a delicious-looking cake thing on a plate.
“Is this for me?”
“It is indeed,” he says. “I’m addicted to these cream-filled brioches, so it’s probably a good thing I’m three down today. If you see me with a new pack at the checkout this week, you’ll have to promise you’ll take it out for me.”
I take a bite, and it’s so not what I was expecting. The bread is soft and sweet, and the filling Ellis mentioned isn’t cream but more a custard. It’s like nothing I’ve had before.
I shake my head. “Sorry, but this is too good. I can only encourage you to buy more. It’s French, right? It sounds French. It has to be healthy.”
Ellis laughs. “It’s a French sweet bread, yes. I guess in a health war between a croissant and a brioche, the brioche would probably win.”
“I rest my case,” I say, eating the rest of the small brioche and then taking a sip of the coffee. “And this is good too.”
Ellis rests his elbows on the kitchen island. “So, Mr.…actually, I don’t know your last name.”
“Allen. Milo Allen.”
“Mr. Allen. Tell me, how can you transform my backyard into the peaceful retreat of my dreams?”
I smile. “Do you have a piece of paper and a pen or pencil?”
He rolls his eyes. Of course, he’s a teacher, so he opens a drawer and presents me with a notepad and a pencil.
I bite my lip to keep from laughing at his smug face.
“I’m not great at drawing, so this is just a rough sketch of my first thoughts. Feel free to tell me you don’t like it.”
I draw the outline of the fences first and the ideas I had when I first saw the backyard. Basically, I’m drawing what I’d do if this was my place. Not that I’ll tell Ellis that. I just think it’ll look nice.
He scrunches his face, trying to understand what I’m doing.
“Okay, so I’m thinking you can get rid of the shed and replace it with a deck for lounging. Some couches, beanbags, lamps, that kind of thing.” I point to the opposite corner to the lounge area. “Your neighbors don’t have trees, so in the summer, you might want to find a way to create some shade. There are a lot of different options for that. I suggest something solid and permanent that can sustain through the winter or something lighter you can store and take out when you want.”
I point to the line of the fences. “If you want more texture and life, the easiest place to plant anything will be by the fences. You can keep them on the ground or build raised beds. There are some flowers and plants that don’t require much upkeep.”
I look up, and Ellis is staring at me.
“What?”
“Nothing. Please, continue.”
“Um, so the rest can be grass, which, you know, grows, so it’ll need to be cut. And then I was thinking that by having the lounge area where you have the shed, you won’t need to extend the porch. You can just repaint and add a grill. Maybe a chair or something.”
I stare at the drawing and try to think if there’s anything I can add. The backyard is big enough that if Ellis ever had kids, he could still separate an area for an outdoor playset.
“This is perfect, Milo. It’s…simple, minimalistic. I have very little free time outside of work during the school year, and now that I want to volunteer with Tyler, that’s some more of my time taken up. This looks perfect for me. I love it.”
I don’t know at what point Ellis put his hand on mine. I’m sure he’s not thinking too much of it. Hell, I’ve done it a million times without thinking.
But this is Ellis. The man I somehow feel so unexplainably attracted to, and his hand feels heavy and warm. The kind of heavy that makes you feel safe and grounded.
The warmth from his hand is spreading up my arm, and I feel my face heat.
