“We could be?” he answers my question with a question. I want to rip his head off. The butterflies in my stomach say otherwise. They say I should kiss the shit out of him or something like that.

“Great,” Olivia says, smiling up at both of us like it’s all settled.

I shake my head, then nod at Cora for her to open the door. The sight that greets me takes my breath away.

“You didn’t…” I say. My eyes start to water, and I try to blink them away. Hate to fucking cry in front of people. Elias nods, and I have the urge to punch him.

Or keep him forever.

That kind of scares me.

I walk forward tentatively. The garden is big. Much bigger than the one I had at home. Home, what a funny word. Your entire life you call a place home, and it turns out it’s not forever. People say that as you age, your home is your safe place, and that place doesn’t need to be physical. It can be a person. A book. Music.

I see it that way too.

Then I notice a tiny sapling. That makes me excited knowing I’m going to watch it grow. And there’s plenty of space to plant more. As my grandmother loved to say, a gifted flower is never a waste.

I look at him, then at the tree. Then back again. From the corner of my eye, I see Cora taking a step back to give us privacy.

“Oh my God,” I whisper and cover my face.

“What?” Elias asks, concern swimming in his voice.

“What happened?” Olivia pushes.

“The tree…”

“Yeah? What’s with it?” Elias steps closer, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You don’t like it?” He watches me in a way that makes me wish the world would swallow me up.

“What? No, of course I do,” I admit. “I was talking about the little tree you planted at my grandma’s. We left it there to die and replaced it like it was nothing.”

The corners of his mouth rise in a relieved smile, and he touches his forehead to mine. He cradles my face in his hands and looks me straight in the eyes, his gaze going from one to the other like always.

“Hey,” he puts on that breathtaking smile, “I’ll plant you a damn forest if that’s what you’re worried about.”

My knees go weak. I’ve never thought about getting on my knees for a man, but I’d drop in a second if he asked me to.

I don’t know if I’m blushing or not, but the look in his eyes changes to a mischievous one. It’s like he read my mind and is damn pleased about it.

“So,” Olivia interrupts us, “are you buying it?”