My Summer in London (My Summer #1)(7)
“Yes,” he said.
“But I thought the main point of us leaving was for me to sober up?” My voice came out a little louder than intended.
He shrugged. “Not entirely. I didn’t like seeing you alone with random men coming up to you, thinking you’re the next dish to be savored. Archer left you to your own devices while he’s probably up to some shenanigans.”
“It’s not really that big of a deal. I can handle myself if something bad happens.” There was no need for over-protectiveness. It was appreciated, but unnecessary.
“Well, I made sure that didn’t need to happen. So, coffee? Or do you want something stronger?”
“Coffee.” The last thing I needed was to drink any alcoholic beverages and make a fool of myself.
In the kitchen, I decided to sit at the kitchen counter as I watched him prepare coffee from the espresso machine. Watching him closely, I noticed he had this way about him as he fed the beans into the grinder, as if he was in deep concentration.
“How do you take it? With or without sugar?” he asked after he made two steaming cups of cappuccinos like a true barista would.
Beyond pleased at his superb manners as a host, I licked my lips before responding to him. “With sugar. Two teaspoons please.”
With the use of his manly hands, he followed my request while I intently took in everything he did. He could make cappuccinos all day long, and I wouldn’t get bored.
Graciously handing me my coffee, Cruz chose to stand across the counter from where I sat, unassumingly sipping his drink while watching me taste mine.
“Are you feeling homesick yet?” he asked, seeming as if he wanted to know more about me. It was understandable since I would be living here for almost a year.
His question really made me think twice. It was odd, but I just realized I hadn’t really thought of home much since I had landed. Maybe it was too soon to tell, but yeah, home was the last thing on my mind, most especially when I was facing this kind of male perfection. Forget home. I would rather ponder more about whether he had a stellar body or not.
“Surprisingly enough, no, not really. My mind is overwhelmed … with everything.”
“Yeah? Well, I hope you feel right at home here. If you have any problems with the staff or if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“Thank you. That’s really nice of you to say.” I couldn’t help smiling at him. “So, how do you expect me to sleep now since you’ve injected my system with caffeine?”
His face lit up as if he had thought of something brilliant. “I want to show you something.”
Damn it. Why was it that, every time that particular smile appeared, butterflies magically appeared in my stomach, making me all the more aware of how deeply this man affected me.
“Um, sure. I’m down for whatever you like.”
My expression most likely looked dull compared to the posh people he surrounded himself with, just like Archer’s friends at the bar earlier. But hell, Cruz had the magical power to turn my mind into a mush, so I couldn’t really be faulted for that now, could I? It was insane how my attraction to him had made me seem like a star struck idiot. I just hoped it wasn’t too obvious, or he would think I was weird.
My thoughts immediately vanished when he began to set our cups aside in the sink for the staff to clean tomorrow. He then guided me towards the other end of the house where he opened the French doors that led to a beautiful garden. There were lights randomly placed about, making the whole scene look grander at night.
Heading towards the trees, we strolled on a stone pathway before a vast wall of hanging vines appeared on the very end of the trail. Upon reaching the dead end, I was surprised when Cruz pushed the vines to the side and led me to another place, like a secret garden, a detailed, lavish one.
“What is this place?” I gasped in awe, looking around as my eyes took in everything they could. It was like stepping into one of those gardens one read about in storybooks. The dim lighting enhanced the setting, making the place look utterly magical.
“My father had this made for my mother.” His raspy voice came out sounding wistful as I followed him farther into the garden. “On the days he was too sick to go anywhere, he would wheel himself here to have some special time with her.”
“How incredibly romantic … They sound like they were crazy in love.” A sigh came from my lips, enamored by this newfound spot that evoked a sense of serenity and calmness. Hearing stories like Margery’s gave me hope for the future. I hoped I would be that lucky someday, finding a partner who loved me unconditionally.
“They were.” He sounded thoughtful, a soft smile playing on his lips, awash with heartwarming memories of his parents. “They deeply loved one another. My mother never once thought my father’s illness would deter them from being together. They fell in love, and the rest was history.”
It seemed appropriate to wait for him to speak it all out before saying anything, so I did just that.
“I worry about her. She’s a bit more fragile ever since he died,” He went on saying as we ventured towards a curved garden bench before taking a seat.
His unconcealed concern for his mother showed me what kind of a man he was. It was always comforting to find a man who worried about his mother. It gave me a glimpse of how deep the bond of love was between him and Margery.