Wet

I push back a grin. I don’t want to risk her changing her mind by thinking I’m expecting too much. “Sure. How about Saturday morning?”

“I’d like that.”

She’s wearing a sundress and sandals when I pick her up at ten thirty. It feels like her mood is the lightest it’s been since before losing the baby. Perhaps she’s pushing herself to try to find her new normal. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she has sunglasses pushed on top of her head.

“Hey, pretty girl,” I say when she steps up to me for a hug.

“Hey, handsome.”

She plays with the radio as I drive, and I let her. She finally settles on an Ed Sheeran song and leans back in her seat with a smile. “It feels good to get out.”

“Well, wait until you see the garden.”

After we get off the tram from the parking lot, I take her hand and pull her along, heading directly to the Central Garden, pointing out the ravine and stone waterfalls along the way. I have trouble containing my excitement. For some reason it never occurred to me to bring Elle here, and the fact that it was her idea makes it that much sweeter.

“Wow,” she exclaims when we finally reach the focal point of the gardens.

I start pointing to various plants and design elements and explain that everything was designed to reflect color and light.

“Those are interesting,” she says, pointing to the teepee structures that have fuchsia petals feathering out of their tops.

“I know. That design fascinates me. They’re custom designed bougainvillea arbors.”

“They look like abstract art.”

After circling the garden twice, I take her where they’ve carved a quote of Irwin’s in the plaza floor. “Always changing, never twice the same.”

She studies the words for a minute before looking up at me. “Boy that could be my motto this year, too. My life was one thing, then it changed direction completely, and then it flipped me over again.”

I squeeze her hand. “It’s been a lot.”

“Too much,” she says quietly. “What’s the saying? The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. I don’t think God or the universe thought I deserved a baby.”

I look over at her, alarmed. The entire time I walked through this journey with her, I never thought she’d take the miscarriage as punishment.

She’s staring at the vast view in the distance. It’s a su

I step in front of her so she looks at me. “You deserve a baby, Elle.” She shakes her head and casts her gaze down. I slip my fingers under her chin and lift it until we are eye to eye. “Yes, yes you do.”

“But we don’t always get what we want, do we, Paul?”

There’s a long weighted pause where I try to respond, but I can’t find the words and she doesn’t back down. I finally decide it’s time to change things up. I pull her back toward the museum buildings.

“Where are you taking me?” she asks with a wary expression.

“I made reservations in the nice restaurant.”

Her somber mood lightens a bit. “That sounds good.”

We order wine right away and have almost finished our glasses before our lunch order arrives. I order another round because I can tell the wine is doing its trick and helping us both relax. It feels good to let loose with Elle. I keep teasing her and she giggles so much that I have to remind her to eat.

I love seeing her eyes sparkle and her cheeks turn pink as she recounts that day she first found me in her yard.

“What did you think when you saw me down on my knees on your grass?”

She arches her brow at me and runs the tip of her index finger along the rim of her wine glass. “You know what I thought. If I didn’t make it clear that day, surely now that you know me, you know exactly what I was thinking.”

I take a sip of my cabernet. “What a handsome devil I am?”

“Ha!”

I feel wounded. “What? You didn’t think I was handsome?”

She sets down her glass indignantly. “Are you fishing for compliments or something?”

I shrug. What is wrong with me? The wine is making me act stupid, but I can’t help it . . . I need to hear that she wanted me.

“Oh for goodness’ sakes . . . it was because I thought you were unbelievably gorgeous that I had two thoughts in my head.”

I instantly feel better. “Okay, what were the two thoughts?”

“The first was trying to estimate how long it would take to get you in my bed. The second was wondering if I’d replenished the condom stash in my nightstand drawer.”

“So confident,” I tease, as my mind tries to process the idea of us fucking for hours.

“I was until you totally burst my bubble. I think I sat in stu

“Wow, so I was an exception to the rule.”

“And you still are.”

She takes a sip of her wine and winks at me.

“Well don’t think I left easily that day. I almost caved and blew my two year record.”

“Really? I know the very instance! It was when I told you to take out your cock so I could lick it! I think I was on my third or fourth beer by then.” She grins widely and I take a second to glance around our table to see if anyone is listening to us. She’s getting a little loud.

“What?” she asks.

“You may want to quiet down a bit, I think everyone including the guy in the corner over there heard you.”

“Oh stop!” she says with a laugh.

“But you’re right . . . that was one of the times I almost caved.”

She folds her arms over her chest. “And for the record, I wouldn’t have just licked. Oh noooo . . . I would have sucked.”

And there she goes . . . my girl with the filthy mouth is back. I could howl with relief I’m so happy to see her again.

She gives me a flirty smile that is unabashedly seductive.

“You like that, don’t you? I can see it all over your face.”

“Forget my face.” I glance down between my legs.

“The anaconda,” she whispers as her eyes close with pleasure.

“Yeah, he really loves your filthy mouth.”

“Maybe one day you’ll let my filthy mouth love him. I still can’t believe we haven’t had wild sex, Paul.”

I swirl the wine in my glass. “I thought you liked us as friends.”

“I’d like it better if we were friends with benefits.”

“Hmm.”

The waiter brings over the check. I glance up to note that there are a lot of people waiting to be seated. They must want to turn our table. Maybe it’s just as well. If we continue on like this I could lose control and we may end up screwing in the parking lot.

As we wait for the tram to take us to my car, Elle throws me a curveball. “So Tuesday I’m flying up to Stockton to see my mom.”

I can’t hide my surprise. The only time she spoke of her mom was when recounting her less than idyllic childhood.

She shakes her head. “Believe me, I don’t want to go but she’s having heart surgery and needs someone to take care of her.”

“And you’re the only one who can?”

She nods. “The only one who’s reliable. I resent having to take care of her again, but if I don’t go and something happens, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Hopefully just a week. It depends on how it goes. She’s a mess.”

We’re quiet on the ride back to her house. When I walk her to the door she doesn’t invite me in since she has to get a proposal done for work.

Our hug feels different. It’s a little bit sweet like the old days and a little bit sad knowing I’m not going to see her for at least a week.

“I want daily reports,” I say as I push her sunglasses up on her head so I can see her blue eyes.

“Yes, sir. And don’t forget that the wedding is in three weeks. Have you gotten your tux yet?”

“No, I promise, I’ll do it this week. Take care of yourself, okay? Safe travels.”