Page 133 of Wisteria and Cloves
The weight of his admission settled between us, more intimate somehow than even our kisses had been. Miles was sharing something precious, something he'd kept separate from the rest of his life.
"Why me?" I asked, the question barely above a whisper.
Miles reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of my cheek with gentle reverence. "Because you understand what it means to need a sanctuary. To have a place that's just yours, where expectations fall away." His thumb brushed across my lower lip, sending shivers down my spine. "And because when I'm with you, I want to share parts of myself I usually keep hidden."
I leaned into his touch, overwhelmed by the trust he was placing in me. "Miles," I whispered, covering his hand with mine as it cupped my face. "I don't know what I did to deserve this—to deserve you. Any of you."
His eyes softened, that familiar warmth spreading across his features. "You existed, Lili. You chose to be brave when it would have been easier to stay small. You chose us when you could have chosen safety."
Before I could respond, he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine in a kiss that was different from the night before—less desperate, more reverent. Like he was trying to pour all his unspoken feelings into the gentle pressure of his mouth against mine.
When we broke apart, both slightly breathless, Miles rested his forehead against mine. "Come on," he murmured, his voice rough. "Let me show you the rest."
He led me through the small kitchen with its vintage appliances and cheerful yellow curtains, then out the back door onto a screened porch that overlooked rolling fields dotted with wildflowers. In the distance, I could hear the gentle babble of water over stones.
"The creek?" I asked.
"Runs right along the back of the property," Miles confirmed, guiding me down wooden steps that had been worn smooth by weather and use. "That's where I set up camp if you're up for staying out there."
We walked across the field hand in hand, wildflowers brushing against our legs as we made our way toward the sound of running water. The creek came into view through a cluster of willow trees—clear water dancing over smooth stones, creating a gentle melody that seemed to harmonize with the rustle of leaves overhead.
"Oh, Miles," I breathed, stopping short at the sight before me. He'd already set up a campsite in a clearing beside the water—a canvas tent in deep forest green, a ring of stones circling what would become our fire pit, and a wooden picnic table that looked like it had been crafted by hand. Camping chairs faced the creek, positioned perfectly to catch both the water's music and the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy.
"When did you have time to do all this?" I asked, spinning in a slow circle to take it all in.
"I may have started yesterday before I asked you on the date…” He trailed off, his cheeks going a bit red as I kept my eyes on him.
I laughed, the sound bright and clear in the morning air. "So you were that confident I'd say yes?"
Miles's cheeks flushed slightly, a boyish grin spreading across his face. "Maybe. Or maybe I was just hoping really, really hard."
"Well, your confidence was justified," I said, moving closer to examine the tent. The fabric was sturdy but elegant, and I could see sleeping bags and pillows arranged inside through the open flap. "This looks incredibly comfortable for camping."
"Julian's contribution," Miles admitted with a chuckle. "Apparently regular camping gear wasn't good enough. This tent probably costs more than some people's monthly rent."
I ran my fingers along the tent's edge, marveling at the quality. "It's beautiful. All of this is beautiful." I turned back to face him, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of every detail.
Miles stepped closer, his hands finding my waist as he pulled me gently against him. "I wanted everything to be perfect for you," he said softly, his green eyes holding mine with an intensity that made my heart race. "You deserve to experience things that are beautiful, peaceful. Things that have nothing to do with expectations or performance."
"You're going to make me cry," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. No one had ever put this much thought into making me happy—not because they wanted something from me, but simply because they wanted to see me smile.
"Happy tears, I hope," Miles murmured, his thumb tracing along my cheekbone. "Because we haven't even gotten to the best part yet."
"There's more?" I asked, incredulous.
His grin was answer enough. He took my hand and led me to the picnic table, where I noticed for the first time a wicker basket I hadn't seen before, its contents hidden beneath a checkered cloth.
"Christopher's masterpiece," Miles said, lifting the cloth with a flourish to reveal an array of carefully packed foods. Glass containers held what looked like homemade pasta salad, fresh bread wrapped in linen, and berries that gleamed like jewels in the morning light. There were mason jars filled with what I assumed was lemonade, wedges of cheese, and small containers of spreads and dips I couldn't identify but that smelled incredible.
"He made all of this?" I asked, picking up one of the containers to examine the perfectly arranged contents.
"He was up at dawn," Miles confirmed, his voice warm with affection for his friend. "Muttering about 'proper picnic food' and 'first camping experiences.' I think he packed enough for a week."
I laughed, imagining Christopher fussing over every detail in the kitchen, determined to make my first camping experience perfect. "That sounds exactly like him," I said, warmth spreading through my chest at the thought of all three of them conspiring to make this day special for me.
"And Nicolaus?" I asked, curious about the fourth member of our unconventional family. "What was his contribution?"
Miles reached into the basket and pulled out a small leather journal with my initials embossed on the cover in elegant gold lettering. "He thought you might want to pick some of the wildflowers and press them into the book. Also said you could use it to write down your thoughts if you wanted to.”
