Eighteen

Seth

 

Seth knew Mrs. Anderson would be bursting with excitement when he arrived to take her to one of the local garden centers. He’d done a lot of research since moving to town, and this particular nursery was, in his opinion, divine. Seth forced himself to stay away if he was low on funds; he always found something that needed a home.

Since Sacha and Parker were hunched over a laptop trying to figure out the fuck-fest Parker had made of his life, Seth was grateful for the excuse to leave. The two of them were like vinegar and baking soda… except the obvious affection between them was clear for anyone to see.

Seth considered himself experienced, worldly. An open person. And he loved sex. His policy had always been to have sex with pretty much anyone where there was mutual interest. There had been a few people he’d liked more than others but never anyone who dogged his thoughts. Seth figured he wasn’t cut out for a long-term relationship; somehow he had been broken or born with an emotional defect that kept people at arm’s length.

And now there was Sacha. Waking up this morning wrapped around him had been both frightening and one of the most peaceful experiences he’d ever had. Sacha made him feel safe and solid and… he was afraid to trust it.

The one-sided conversation with Parker rang in his ears. He knew Parker was right about Sacha; he was not someone to take lightly. That made Seth cringe. Light was his signature. Light meant that when he and whoever he was fucking went their separate ways (and they always did), no one got hurt. Since all relationships would end eventually, Seth saved himself the heartache by never fully investing.

He’d been called on it a few times. His past partners had said he was emotionally unavailable; he didn’t let people get close enough for a real relationship. They weren’t wrong. He had an internal blueprint: as soon as he felt the noose tightening around his neck, he called things off. The second moving in, spending more time together, or “relationship status” came up in conversation, Seth was done.

Marnie had been very careful bringing strangers around after Seth moved in, to the point of it being the two of them against the world. He hadn’t realized until much later that she’d worried that, after the revolving door of Jaqueline’s vagina, Seth would have issues. She was probably right.

He’d meant his flirtation with the sexy, brooding Sacha to be the same light, innocent fun he was used to. Okay, maybe also something of an experiment, because Seth found Sacha compelling, unsettling, mysterious. Seth was starting to realize he’d bitten off more than he could chew, but he wasn’t quite ready to end things yet. Was he playing a dangerous game? Absolutely.

Engaging Sacha was dangerous, not because Sacha was an intrinsically dangerous man—though he was; there was no point in denying the aura of menace that engulfed him—but because peeling back Sacha’s layers also meant peeling back and exposing Seth’s own. Seth hadn’t realized that until too late.

“Dammit.”

Mrs. Anderson was ready to go; she waggled her fingers at him through her living-room window as he parked. A few moments later her front door opened and she stepped out wearing a practical bright-pink windbreaker, white slacks, and matching pink Keds. Adorable.

Seth met her at the top of her stairs and escorted her to his car, helping her in and making sure her seatbelt was buckled. Seth wished he had a nicer car to drive her in, but she didn’t seem to care about the derelict condition of his ancient Jeep.

The nursery was located on the south end of town, at the top of Old Charter, past the city rose gardens. The main building was a tiny cottage. Probably built around the 1920s, it sat on several acres of land. The current owners had packed it full of fun little treasures for the garden, houseplants, and seasonal decorations. Each nook and cranny was stuffed with surprises.

Seth parked and went around to open the passenger door. “Let’s start inside first, shall we? We can get a wagon for your plants.”

“Seth, thank you already for bringing me out here,” she said. “I don’t like to drive anymore.”

Seth had spotted the decades-old Chrysler tucked under her carport. “How do you get groceries and things like that?”

She fluttered a hand. “Oh, when I get desperate I’ll drive. But my car is so huge, and I’m afraid I won’t see someone over all that hood.”

“I know someone who might be able to help you with a smaller car, if you’d like.” Buck Swanfeldt would help her out, although as far as Seth knew he was knee-deep in wedding preparations at the moment. Seth snickered to himself. Buck might as well let Joey plan the whole thing and just show up on time.

Outside the main building, rows and rows of native plants, perennials, annuals, trees, and shrubs crowded the grounds, with gravel walkways in between. There was a section displaying grasses and bamboo, a section for berry vines, a section for water plants. Several greenhouses dotted the landscape, filled with not-so-hardy herbs, fuchsias, and tender annuals. Seth felt like he was in heaven. Mrs. Anderson felt the same, if her reaction to the spectacle was any gauge.

“Seth,” Mrs. Anderson sighed after a few minutes of looking at the huge selection of plants, “I want it all.”

He chuckled. “Isn’t that the truth.” He grabbed a wagon and led Mrs. Anderson toward the greenhouses.