Page 48 of His Prince
But even so, I want this.
I think I really want this.
So I decide that I’ll come up with rules, ways to keep myself from falling.
Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll be smart about it.
My father didn’t raise a fool.
Despite Mikhail’s request ringing in my ears, I manage to get through the interviews Casey helped me schedule.
All seem like promising, eager candidates. One is an older gentleman with a thick mustache who seems like he’s no nonsense and knows what he’s doing. He could definitely handle the men here and obviously has the knowledge to take care of the garden if I ever grow too busy. The other prospect is a bright-eyed woman who knows a lot about East Coast vegetation and how to cultivate a garden, but the way she stares too long at Casey makes me uncomfortable. It’s almost as if she’d rather follow him around than tend to the garden. And if she’s like that with him, what will she do when she sees the other bodyguards?
I don’t know and I’m not sure I want to find out.
As I’m interviewing the last candidate, he’s sitting before me on the porch, completely silent. He’s younger than the others and slightly nervous, his long hair swept back in a bun, his jeans torn atthe knees. The soles of his shoes are worn and I see his nails are bitten down to the quick.
“Hello, Jake,” I say. “I got your resume...” I reach down and grab it from my bag as I continue talking. “It’s very impressive…”
“Do you mind looking at me when you speak?” he asks, his voice slightly different than I’m used to, some of his words coming out differently. An accent of sorts. “I can sort of read lips if you’re facing me.” My head jerks up and my eyes meet his. And then I see him start to sign and speak at the same time. “I’m Deaf.”
“Oh,” I reply, unsure of what to say now. “I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to not meet with me.”
My mouth opens and then closes. “I wouldn’t do that.”
He shakes his head. “Can you say that again? I missed it. Lipreading isn’t very accurate. Like at all. Unless it’s following a script. Sometimes it’s a guessing game.”
I do as he asks and then he nods, replying in both sign and spoken words, “It happens. Don’t worry about it.”
I glance down at his resume, realizing that I don’t need to go through this with him, not when it’s already on paper. So, I set it aside. “Would you like to see the garden?” My hand moves up to make the universal sign forseeand Jake grins.
“You’re doing well.”
“I will learn,” I say, tapping at my head.
His grin widens and we both stand up, walking side by side down the path leading to the garden. Casey follows us closely, clearly still unsure about Jake, but I’m not. I’m getting great vibes from him.
Even if he can’t hear.
It really has nothing to do with anything. It just means that I need to be more conscious of speaking to him while facing him and learning some signs to make communication easier. No, Iwilllearn American Sign Language to communicate. I’ll do my best.
As we walk, Jake shows me the sign for garden, flower, andtree, and I mimic his movements, loving the way my hands can convey meaning like this.
I already like him.
He grins at me, almost proud that I’m attempting to converse in his language.
I love it.
“Here we are,” I say and sweep my hand out in front of me, watching as Jake moves into the space and kneels down on the ground, his fingers sinking into the soil. I watch as his eyes close and he inhales.
I don’t know what he’s doing, but I let him have time. Maybe he’s conversing with the soil. Maybe he has some magic in him, a woodland fae. He almost looks like one, with his lean figure and his long hair.
A minute later, Jake opens his eyes and stands up, brushing off his hands as he moves around the space, bending over to look at all the plants, touching them gingerly.
His eyes finally meet mine and he signs and speaks again, “This place has mixed energy.”