Page 8 of Leaping Into Love

One day, hopefully soon, I’ll be able to tell her exactly how real fate and its interventions really are. For now, enjoying the gift fate has given me is more than enough.

chapter six

A couple weeks later

henry

It feels wrong giving my mate tasks to do, but since this pretext of employment is the means fate used to bring her here, I have no option but to play along until the truth is revealed.

Thankfully, Tiana is always eager and excited to take care of the grounds. She genuinely loves being outdoors. The more immersed in nature she is, the happier she seems. I’ve always kept Ulphia Manor in exemplary condition, so there isn’t any labor-intensive work to be done. I’ve had to create tasks for her, and even those haven’t required much time or effort.

At first, she appeared uncomfortable when I told her to enjoy all the available free time after her duties were completed. She replied by telling me her previous job usually consisted of ten- or twelve-hour days during the summer months, so she wasn’t sure what to do with so many good-weather hours at her disposal.

My solution and answer: do whatever makes you happy.

It turns out that’s more of what her job entails: puttering around in the greenery.

I’ve quickly discovered that seeing her smile purely out of joy—because she doesn’t know I’m watching—is what makes me happy.

After doing some light weeding in the front gardens this morning, Tiana joined me for lunch, as she has every day since her arrival. Though I continue to invite her to share our daily meals, the invitation has become a formality, as she always knows it’s coming and I know her answer will always be yes. Sometimes she beats me to question, but I’ve learned she doesn’t enjoy cooking, and it doesn’t take much to convince her to let me prepare our food. I love taking care of her needs, and gods willing, I will attend to all of them soon, and continue to do so for the rest our lives.

The delight on her face when I set grilled salmon and a crisp, colorful salad in front of her made my heart feel as if it might leap out of my chest. Our time together is always filled with conversation, and she’d mentioned having a craving the day before, though I’m sure she didn’t intend it as a hint.

Her initial straightforwardness has grown into something deeper, a comfortable openness. I’ve learned a great deal about her in our time together. And though I’ve had to skirt the full details at times because the magic holding its glamour around me prevents me from telling her what I am, I’ve bared as much truth about myself as possible whenever she asks about me or my life, which is often. She seems as interested in knowing me as I am in learning ever detail about her.

Our connection grows closer every day, every moment. Even this would be enough to make me happy for the rest of my life, but the times when our gazes meet and linger beyond the friendly, or our fingers touch, and the pink that rises in her cheeks indicates she feels the chemistry too…

The temptation to tell her the depth of my feelings for her almost overwhelms me. I think she would welcome the admission. That her heart is in sync with mine.

But when I tell her I love her, when the day comes that she says those words to me, I don’t want the glamour between us. If it takes weeks or months or years, I will wait. Perhaps not patiently, but happily.

Sitting across from her while she thoroughly enjoyed her salmon—eyes closed, softly moaning with each bite of tender filet—brought my cock to a stand that made it precarious for me to stand when she got up from her seat at the end of the meal. But a gentleman does what he must when a lady rises. I can only hope the napkin I held blocked her view of my engorged predicament.

I believed her work for the day completed, only to find her in the vegetable garden shortly thereafter. Not part of the duties I fabricated.

“You don’t have to do this,” I say as I approach the large, rectangular planting area.

“Are you kidding? I love this. My grandfather had a big veggie garden, and being part of the process of growing our own food was so satisfying. I looked forward to it every year, almost as much as wandering in the woods and swimming in the lake. In the city, I didn’t even have a proper balcony to grow a single potted tomato plant on, so this is like a dream. You already have a great crop of tomatoes ripening, but pruning some suckers and topping the plants should encourage more fruit in the latter part of the season.” The hand hovering near one of the plants lowers without making whatever cut she was poised to do before my arrival. “But if this garden is your personal project, and you’d rather I didn’t mess around in here, I won’t.”

“Everything about my home is your home,” I say, not for the first time. “Those aren’t just casual words.”

Gaze locked with mine, her smile shifts from excitement to something softer. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

“I truly do.” Like so many other moments we’ve shared since her arrival, I hold my breath, hoping this one will be the time fate decides to lift the glamour, but the tingle of old magic remains wrapped around me like a blanket. All I can do is trust that fate knows best and continue nurturing my connection with Tiana. An easy thing to do, and not only because I know she’s meant to be my mate. I enjoy everything about her.

“I’ll come back to this later when the sun’s not directly overhead,” she says, engaging the lock on the pruners and sliding them into a pocket on her overalls. Taking the work gloves off as she carefully steps out of the garden, she tucks them into a back pocket, then slides her thumbs inside the bib. “I think I’ll take your suggestion from one of our first conversations and cool off with a dip in the pond.”

“An excellent idea.”

“Would you like to join me?” Her cheeks go rosy when my response is nothing short of a blatant croak. “If that’s an inappropriate suggestion⁠—”

“Not at all.” One day, swimming together will be as automatic as breathing. One day soon, I hope.

“Then I’ll meet you at the spot you showed me. I just need a few minutes to change. I’ve never gone swimming in an actual swamp,” she squeals. “This is so exciting!” With another joyful squeal, she spins and bounces away, breaking into a jog when she gets close to her cottage.

Merely thinking about seeing her in a swimsuit, up close and without having to watch her covertly from a distance, has my cock rising. Again. Even if I get it under control, I have no doubt it will leap to life again the moment I join her by the pond. Gods willing, the swim trunks I purchased before her arrival will mask my inevitable condition, and she won’t see how excited I am too.

chapter seven