When she’d gone inside, Wyatt lowered the truck’s hatch and began to unload. He dropped bags of potting soil along the base of the garage wall before adding flats of wave petunias, the spikes and a trio of burnt-orange ceramic planters Kami had selected from stock. Rose bushes would soon add color to wooden stairs, front and back, while daffodils and monkey grass would fill a flower bed that ran the length of a generous wrap-around front porch.
The place had character and an armload of potential. It just needed a little elbow grease. He could start with the hanging baskets. He lifted them onto hooks already placed along the porch ceiling and the generous splash of petunias added a homey touch to the white-framed house. Then he stepped back, reached into the cab of the truck for the pad of paper and pencil stored in the console.
“What are you doing?” Kami’s tennis shoes crunched over gravel as she came toward him carrying a tall coffee mug in each hand. Wyatt took one as she joined him on the truck’s tailgate.
“You asked for suggestions, so I’m making a sketch.” He drew a sip of the coffee and sighed long and hard. “That’s good…perfect. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She dipped her head to peer over his shoulder. “That’s good, Wyatt. I like it. Do your suggestions come with a fee?”
“Yes. One hot cup of coffee—maybe two.”
“I’m good with that.”
“OK, then.” He tilted the sketch her way. “You’ve got some nice soil here…won’t need much. I’ve outlined in the sketch the combinations I think will work best.”
“How do you know what works best?”
“A person doesn’t grow up soaking up the ins and outs of greenery and not retain something. Just don’t let on to my mom and Reese or I’ll never get back to the office.”
Kami lifted her fingers to her lips, gave a little twist. “Mums the word.”
“There’s just one stubborn area that I see, and you’re going to need more than a shovel to sink anything into the ground over there.” Wyatt adjusted the ball cap to block the sun as he made quick work of the coffee. The caffeine began to work its magic. “The soil is hard as bricks.”
“I can manage. It will just take a little time.”
“Maybe so, but you’ll tear up your hands in the process.” He eyed her long, delicate fingers capped by neat but unpolished nails.
“I’ll worry about that later. I don’t have time to do anything more this afternoon anyway. I have to get back to the restaurant soon.” She glanced at the hanging baskets, swaying in the gentle breeze along the porch ceiling. “Thanks for hanging those. They look beautiful.”
“Adds something, doesn’t it?”
“For sure.”
“Well, we’ve got a tiller at the nursery. I’ll come back in a while and turn the soil for you, work in the peat and get the ground ready so all you’ll have to do is sink the plants into holes.”
“Really, Wyatt, that’s not necessary.”
“I’m aware of that. Even so…” His gaze drifted to the house next door. A sign sat on the front lawn, close to the curb. “Is that place for sale?”
“It’s for rent. The placard just went up yesterday.”
“Even better.” He drained his coffee mug and set it on the tailgate as he slipped down and strode across the lawn. Kami followed, two-stepping to keep up with his long strides. “Perfect timing.”
“Are you looking for a house?”
“Yes, or an apartment—unless I want to bunk with Reese or my mom indefinitely. Reese is a slob and Mom, well, she’s Mom. So, neither is a viable option. I need something quick, and I’d rather have the space of a house. Renting is perfect until I know for sure how things will go around here.”
“So, you’re really not planning to stay?”
“Depends. Not if the nursery folds.”
“It’s not going to fold, Wyatt.” Kami crossed her arms tight over her midsection, as if shielding herself. “Prayer is a powerful thing. The realtor handling the rental is a friend of mine. She can probably give you a showing as early as tomorrow morning, if you don’t mind her kids tagging along if she can’t find a sitter on such short notice.”
“That’s no problem.” Wyatt pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and scrolled through his contact list, adding the name and number displayed on the sign. “I’ll give her a call and work it out.”
“Are you sure you want to...”
“What?”
“Live next door to me?”
“I admit,” A grin caused his lips to twitch as he closed the distance between them, “that it could develop into something dangerous.”
She stutter-stepped back, remained an arm’s-length away from him. “How so?”
“Let me tell you.” He reached over to snatch a lock of her hair that had spilled from her braid. “How tough is your heart, Kami Moretto?”
“Tough enough to handle you, Wyatt Cutler.” Yet she backed away from him to settle into the white-planked porch swing that swayed gently in the breeze. “
More
than tough enough.”
“You think so?” He plunged his hands into his pockets because he itched to use them—to caress her soft skin in a way that was sure to get him into trouble. “Well, we’re sure to find out, aren’t we?”
5
Wyatt tossed his pencil onto the desk and sat back in the chair, stretching kinks from his neck. It was no use…nobody had given the nursery’s books more than a cursory glance in the year since Dad passed. To say they were a mess was an understatement. Taxes, due to be filed in less than two weeks, were sure to be a bear. Just thinking about it gave him a headache. He’d have to schedule a family meeting quick, bring Reese and Mom up to speed.
“Hey there.”
He glanced up to find Kami in the doorway. Her sleek black hair was twisted into a braid that ran the length of her back. His heart slammed against his ribs as he suddenly wondered what that mass of hair would look like if he reached over and loosed the band, setting it free. She propped one shapely hip against the jamb and his throat turned to sandpaper. “Hey yourself.”
“You look flustered.”
“The books.” Wyatt set his reading glasses on the desk, willing his pulse to find a normal cadence. Since he’d moved in next door to her two days ago, he’d been hard-pressed to keep his mind on anything else. The traitorous state of his heart was as annoying as a paper cut and putting a serious dent in his ability to accomplish anything of merit. The last thing he needed was for Kami to catch wind of his frazzled disposition. So he twisted in the chair and turned away from her, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as a migraine threatened to take hold. “They’re like a code that’s impossible to crack.”
“You’ll manage.”
“That’s reassuring, coming from the very woman who had her own meltdown just last week, while working on books for the pizzeria.”
“That was different. I
want
to stay here, Wyatt, want to help make my family’s business viable and watch it grow. I like what I do. You, on the other hand, seem to loathe the nursery and just want to…leave.”
“Loathe? I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Oh?” She crossed the room to place a stainless steel thermos on his desk. “Fill me in, then.”
“Is that…?”
“Yes. Coffee—just the way you like it.”
“You’re an angel.”
“Thank you.” She eased one hip onto the edge of his desk. “Has something changed in the past week to put the reins on your…distaste for the nursery?”
A lot had changed. He was beginning to adjust to the flow of the business again and, as a result, missed his dad more than ever. Somehow, being home again brought everything to the surface. Every action, the myriad of scents and simple tasks, reminded him of all he’d lost.
All he’d squandered…precious time with his father.
And then there was Kami. She understood how he felt when no one else did. Just last night, after he’d finished hauling boxes into his house, they’d shared sweet tea on his front porch, talking things over. So many childhood memories were now not much more than a blur. Why had he thought he’d captured the details of those moments, tucked them safely in his heart, forever? Time had a way of fading the images, melding them into a blurry and indecipherable soup.
“Maybe
I’m
beginning to change.” Above them, rain drummed against the nursery’s roof. For once, Wyatt was thankful for the splatter; at least the incessant downpour kept customers away long enough for him to begin his assault on the books. The longer he was back at the nursery, the more he realized their financial hardship wasn’t due to a lack of sales, but the mismanagement—or rather
lack
of management—of funds. The newfound knowledge provided a glimmer of hope—
if
he could get a handle on things and plot out a plan. Both his mom and Reese were geniuses when it came to design and plant care, but neither had a clue as to how much cash was coming in or going out. The lack of communication was worse than a pedestrian playing chicken with a train.
“You, change? That’s a thought to ponder.” Kami grinned and inched the thermos toward him. “But, I like it. Maybe a cup or two of the pizzeria’s coffee will chase the cobwebs from your brain, then we’ll talk some more.”
“Works for me. I enjoy talking to you.” He reached for the thermos and unscrewed the cap, sniffing. A groan of satisfaction erupted. “This smells too good for words.”
“It’s strong with light, non-flavored cream, just the way you like it, and brewed only minutes ago.”
“You remembered.”
“Of course.” She unzipped her rain jacket, shrugged out of it and draped it over an empty chair. “Thanks for finishing my flower beds. With all you have going on here, it was really nice of you to take the time.”
“I promised I would help you with that part of it, so you’re welcome. I noticed you got the rose bushes in.”
“And the daffodils this morning before this storm moved in. Jada showed up for the breakfast shift and was in the mood to stay for a while. I think she’s developed a fondness for Fred, who’s been coming around more often to help Dad with the food preparation.”
“That’s a nice turn of events.”
“I think so, too. With both of them on the clock, I made good use of a little free time.”
“What’s next on your landscaping agenda?”
“Your mom suggested a magnolia bush for my front bed, near the road and beside the driveway. She said they’re very hardy…nearly impossible to kill, so that works for me. And I thought a handful of begonias might add a splash of color around the mailbox. I especially like the red ones.”
“That’s the most popular color, due to the vibrancy. But they’re annuals, so you’ll have to replace them every year. Have you considered that?”
“Oh, no I haven’t.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, let it go again. “I guess that’s OK. I’m developing a fondness for digging in the dirt. There’s something very calming about the feel of soil between my fingers and the kiss of sunshine on my back.”
“Nice visual.” He’d watched her bring the ceramic planters to life with a waterfall of wave petunias just last night. “I think you have a gift with words…among other things.”
“Tell my dad. I’ve tried to convince him to update our menus and some of the signage in the diner, but convincing him to move forward is like drilling a hole through a brick wall.”
“I feel your pain, believe me.”
“Thanks, at least that’s a comfort. I’ll have to stop back and pick up some begonias in the next day or two.”
“I’ll tell Reese to check the stock.”
“One flat should do it.” She fiddled with a button on her blouse, then plucked his pencil from the desk and began to doodle along the margin of the blotter. “I also wanted to ask you…”
“Yeah?” Wyatt prodded, cupping a hand to the side of his head as she added tiny leaves to the stem of a rose. “I’m all ears.”
“Would you like to come to my house tonight for dinner?”
“I don’t know.” The question startled him, but he might have guessed that would come next in the progression of things. He just figured
he’d
be the one doing the asking. His hand slid down to scratch the stubble along his jaw as his lips twitched into a playful grin. “It’s an awfully long way to go…that treacherous walk across the front lawn, especially in the rain, and then traversing the cobblestones up to your front door. I might stumble or…melt.” But the invitation had his belly salivating. He had yet to stock the refrigerator in his new home with a lick of groceries. Wyatt told himself that was the only reason he should accept Kami’s invitation, yet he knew a meal with her was welcomed…and not only for the food.
“Wyatt!” Her eyes danced merrily. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“But it’s so much fun.”
She’d cast a spell on him, one he was powerless to fight. With those huge green eyes and easy grin, who could resist? But letting her close—allowing her in—was inviting a new kind of danger. Above all, he didn’t want to hurt her. She’d certainly been hurt enough. Despite the hard times, she kept her good humor, as demonstrated with laughter that tumbled as he stood to face her.
He liked the way she laughed, liked it way too much for his own good. Actually, he liked a lot about her. What could it hurt…one little meal? He poured coffee into the cup that also doubled as a thermos lid and decided to play along as he drew a generous sip. “The expression on your face is priceless, and I think you’re blushing. I suppose you’re not used to asking men out.”
“Not used to…” A wave of crimson swept up her neck to bloom across both cheeks, making those lovely eyes pop. “Oh…I didn’t mean…I just want to thank you for the sketch you drew and for tilling my beds.”
“That’s all?” He winked at her “You mean you don’t find me irresistible?”
“Yes…I mean no...” She dropped the pencil and hopped from the desk. Turning, she paced the room in a short burst of steps, pressing palms to her cheeks. “Oh, good grief. For the record, Wyatt Cutler, you are about as irresistible as a bad case of the flu.”
“I…OK, I suppose I deserve that.” Wyatt set down his coffee cup and rounded the desk, drawing her in. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Kami pressed a hand to his chest, blocking him firmly. “I think you should keep your distance.”