Then wait, is he breaking up with me? Is that why Winnie is here? No, he wouldn’t have told her he was breaking up with me and then invite her here for support. And if that was his plan, that blow job this morning should have changed his mind.
I spend the rest of the afternoon panicking as I go shopping with Winnie and catching up on her life.
By the time I make it home, I am exhausted from the anxiety flooding my system.
Carson’s car is in the driveway already. He had court today and always works late on those days to prepare for the next day. The sun is just beginning to fall behind the trees so I find it strange he is already here.
I walk up the steps to our log cabin and step through the front door. The one thing I love about this house is all the glass everywhere. It’s like living in a treehouse. Of course Carson said to me that we are too secluded for my exhibitionist ways and I told him it just meant I got to be louder.
I don’t see him or hear him. I walk into the kitchen to grab a glass of wine to calm my nerves when I look out to the balcony and see it lined with flickering fairy lights and candles. Those better be flameless, I think to myself as I step through the sliding doors.
I walk around the porch until I find Carson sitting in the double hammock. His suit is still on, minus his jacket, and his shoes are kicked off.
“Grace,” he says when he sees me. “Come sit.”
“What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
I gesture around me. That’s when I notice a bottle of champagne chilling and our outdoor table set for dinner. “What is all this?”
“I told you it’s our three-month anniversary. I wanted to make it special.”
I walk over to him and see he is already enjoying a glass of scotch. The side table next to him has a glass of wine on it. He pulls me into the hammock and I collapse into his side. He wraps his arm around me and then sets his scotch down so he can hand me my wineglass.
“Happy anniversary, babe.”
I look up at him and smile. Looking into those cobalt-blue eyes and the look of happiness on his face is enough for my anxiety to disappear. “I love you.”
He leans down and brushes a kiss to my lips. “I love you too.”
“You didn’t have to do all this. We could have just sat in this hammock like we do most nights and watched the serenity of the mountains.”
He shrugs. “I guess.”
I turn and look at him. “What are you keeping from me?”
He raises his brows. “What do you mean?”
“You’re acting strange.”
He chuckles. “You’re acting strange.”
“No, I’m not. I’m not the one—”
He shuts me up with his lips like usual and I can’t help but melt into him. His vetiver and patchouli smell and his warmth, the way his hands hold on to me, they always feel like home. And I hope they always will.
“I’m going to go check the food in the oven,” he says as he pulls away.
“You cooked?” I ask, surprised.
He throws his head back, laughing. “Hell no. I picked up steaks on the way home and I put them in the oven to keep them warm.”
“Oh. That makes more sense.”
He shakes his head at me then walks away. I don’t know what has come over me. Freaking Winnie acting weird today has rubbed off on me. I swallow down the rest of the wine in my glass and let the buzz take over as I lean back in the hammock and close my eyes, lightly rocking back and forth.
I don’t know how long I sit there, but I hear Carson clear his throat. When I open my eyes, he is kneeling in front of me.