Ambushed by M.E. McAndrews
Chapter 38
Olivia
and the moist spring air is fresh with the scent of budding flowers and the buzz of fat bumble bees hopping from plant to plant in the garden. The warm sunshine shows off Austin's broad shirtless shoulders, accentuating the firm shape of his chiseled pecs. The drops of sweat on his back reflect sparkles of sunshine as he moves with the skilled grace that comes only from years of experience.
His strong muscles flex and bulge with each shovelful of dirt, and the scar on his chest serves as a four-inch reminder of everything we've endured.
“I made you a drink.”
He turns to the sound of my voice, a massive smile on his face, as he takes the ice-cold glass from my hand. He lifts the glass, pausing for a moment to wipe the sweat from his lips with the back of his dust-covered hand.
The glass of ice-cold homemade lemonade tastes like a sweet and sour slice of springtime heaven. I stash an ice cube in my mouth, and my lemonade lips find Austin's. I kiss him fiercely, sneaking the ice cube between his lips and into his mouth.
“You’re a vixen,” he chides, crunching the ice cube between his front teeth.
“And I’m your vixen.”
“Never in my life did I think I'd enjoy gardening so much,” he says. His eyes settle on me.
“You say that about everything now. About painting, drywall, floors. It’s like you’re a repressed handyman or something.”
He wraps his arms around my waist, drawing me against him, and I shriek with giddy laughter as his mouth comes down on my neck, kissing me furiously. “You smell like sweat and dirt,” I laugh.
“Then maybe you should help me clean up?” He attacks me again with his demanding kisses.
“You've done a marvelous job out here,” I say. “Perhaps when you’re done, I can help you unwind in the shower.”
“I think I'm actually done now,” he says.
“Oh yeh. Not yet, Mister.” I tickle his belly with my fingertips. “When you’re really done.”
“Okay. I’ve got one more rose bush.”
I watch as he digs, savoring every movement. When he finishes burying the rose and covering it with soil, he steps back and we admire the garden he's planted behind the white fence. A small natural cedar bench sits beneath the budding flower tips, perfect for admiring the garden we designed and created together with so much love.
Well, mostly he created, with my design. It’s hard to believe he was once a hard-charging big boss CEO who commanded others. He’s nothing but a sensitive and empathetic pussy cat at home.
I watch as he sets his empty glass down on a table. “I can't wait to see what it looks like when the flowers bloom,” I say.
He nods. “They should be in full bloom by next month, I'm sure of it. I hope this meets the vision of what you had in mind.”
“It's better than anything I could have imagined.” I lean against his chest.
Austin has been a constant source of support, and I can't imagine where I would be without him. There's a fresh coat of paint on the exterior walls, and the once overgrown garden is now a beautifully landscaped oasis. The floors gleam with fresh polyurethane, and he completely renovated the kitchen. I can't help but smile as I appreciate all of his handy work around the house. Despite his injury, he has never once complained, continuously pushing forward to help me create the home I've always dreamed of.
He gazes at me, and his eyes tell me that he’s moved by my words. A small smile appears on his lips, and my heart flutters.
The emotional healing for me after all of last year’s string of stressful events was slow. I was like a dying flower without water, slowly coming back to life, leaf by leaf and petal by petal after receiving a good dose of fresh water. When the disasters of the year culminated in Austin’s injury, I was filled with a complete sense of emptiness and hopelessness. But when I was told he would make a full recovery, a sense of hope began to grow in me. I wasn’t under any false impression of what might happen between us in the future, but when the mortgage on my house was mysteriously paid off, I had suspicions of who did it.
With the stress of my mortgage commitment no longer weighing on my shoulders, I began to notice the little things in life that had previously been passing me by. Like the simple sound of birds singing in the morning, the earthy scent of newly cut grass in the afternoon, and rhythmic chirping tree frogs during a fresh summer rain.
I’ve never asked him about it. About the mortgage payoff. Or the taxes. If it was him, he’ll tell me about it if he wants to. Some day. Whether it was him, I attribute my healing to Austin's unwavering support and his love. He is always here for me, no matter what the circumstances. His gentle touch and encouraging words always lift my spirits.
I like to believe that I’ve changed his life, too. Before he went into the hospital, I don’t think he’d ever grown a single plant. Not even a kitchen window Avocado pit. You know… the ones our mom’s showed us when we were little girls. The ones with toothpicks stuck in them floating in a glass of water.
But now, it appears as if he enjoys digging in the dirt. He’s much happier than I ever saw him before the stabbing. We’ve both discovered an uncanny peacefulness from the simple pleasures, like gardening, cooking, and spending actual leisure time with friends. We’re even talking about getting a dog.
“Well, I know that my garden won't survive without you,” he says, his eyes glittering with desire.
“Is that your way of saying you need me?” I ask, playfully.
“Yes. Especially your sexy body,” he whispers, caressing my chin with his lips. “A man can only work so hard,” he says, “until he needs a break.”
“You know, we should start a vegetable garden too,” I say.
“Yeah, you're probably right. But don't you dare change the subject on me, now.”
I giggle.
“Come here,” he says, taking my hand and guiding me to the edge of the garden. He nudges me gently against the fence and looks into my eyes. I look up at him as he leans down to kiss me, his hands gripping my waist.
“You know I can't resist you,” I say.
“That's what I need to hear.” He flutters his lips against my ear.
He slides his hands down my sides, to my hips, and his fingers dance their way under my cotton skirt, sliding up and under the hem.
I gasp as his fingers trace a line along the inside of my thighs, burning a fiery trail.
“Oh,” I say, my voice husky as my eyes flutter shut in pleasure.
He removes his hand from under my skirt.
“No. Don’t stop, honey,” I moan.
“Shush,” he says.
I open my eyes and see him reach into the pocket of his dirt-covered jeans. He pulls out a small silver box.
“What is this?” I ask, taking the dust covered box from his hand.
“Something I’ve been holding on to for the past month. For the right moment. How about you open it and find out?”
My heart races and my hands tremble. I wipe the dust from the box with my shirt, and flip it open. “Oh my god, Austin,” I exclaim. “It’s beautiful.”
He takes the box from my hand, removing the fiery sparkling diamond ring as he kneels down onto the freshly exposed earth.
“Olivia, I cannot bear even the thought of spending another day of my life without you,” he starts. “We've been through a lot, but I hope you feel the same. I would like to build a family… a life together with you, because you're the only thing that matters to me.” He clears his throat, taking a deep breath. “Will you let me give the rest of my life to you? Will you marry me?”
The tears of joy trickle down my cheeks, dripping onto the mud covered knees of his jeans.
“Absolutely!” I shout, as I drop to the ground on my knees in front of him.
We stare into each other's eyes as he stands up, lifting me with him. I wrap my hands around his waist and pull him to me, kissing him deeply.
“Yes! I will.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, staring straight into my eyes. “You are everything to me, Olivia. I will be here for you always. No matter what happens, I will never let anything, or anybody ever harm you again.”
“And I will always be yours, Austin Blackwater. I will commit my life, my love, my honor, and every ounce of my soul to you. Forever.”