Page 76 of In The Weeds
“Everyone. The town.”
I grunt.
“I just—” I turn to look at her, the bright morning light making her skin glow. She has pink on her neck from where my stubble brushed against her, the edge of a hickey peeking out from beneath her shirt. I give into temptation and reach over, thumbing once at the mark before pulling her collar over it. She turns her head and brushes a kiss against the constellation on the back of my hand.Argo Navis. The mighty ship.
“I don’t want you to be lonely,” she confesses. “Sitting by yourself in that big house. I hate thinking of you lonely.”
She means when she leaves. I slip my hand out of her grip and rub my palm against my thigh. She’s busy planning for her exit while I’m still out in the fields with her, my hands on her bare skin and my heart in my throat.
Disappointment punches me in the gut, a cheap shot that steals the air out of my lungs. All morning I’ve been trying to think of the right words to tell her I want her around and she’s thinking about where she’ll go next. I let out a slow breath and reach for the handle of the door.
“Alright,” I scratch at my nose and push everything back into place. Shoulders back, chin up, crumbling walls held up by toothpicks. “Let’s go in then.”
She stops me with her hand on my wrist, the styrofoam boxes placed neatly in the backseat. Her thumb rubs once against my skin and she smiles gently at me. There’s a secret there, in the set of her mouth. Comfort and a little bit of coercion, too. All the best things about Evie.
She rummages around in her bag and emerges with her hand wrapped tight around something, shuffling up on her knees to lean over the center console. She cups my jaw in one hand and reaches for my temple with the other, a small foam earplug held carefully between thumb and forefinger. She gently fits it into place against my ear, thumb smoothing along my jaw as the sound muffles around me. It’s like slipping underwater in the bath, warm water rushing over head.
She guides my head to the left and fits the other into place. She holds my face when she’s done, thumbs brushing under my eyes. She leans forward and drags a gentle kiss across my mouth.Let me take care of you,her kiss says.
I want her to. More than anything, I want her to.
“For the sound,” she explains, her voice muffled but still there. “To make it easier.”
I swallow around the words that burn unfamiliar in the back of my throat and settle for squeezing her hand in mine. But I wonder if she knows. If she can read it on my face.
I didn’t realize falling in love could be so simple. Bacon in a takeout container and earplugs in the bottom of a handbag.
I make a decision sitting in the front seat of my truck, my thumb across her knuckles. I don’t know what we’re doing, how long it’ll last, when she’ll leave again. But I’ll take all her pieces while I have her.
I’ll take whatever she can give me, for as long as she can.
The earplugs help,but Evelyn helps more.
She keeps her touches light and reassuring against the back of my arm as we twist flowers and vines around the sturdy legs of an arch. Half of the entire town is crammed into Mabel’s greenhouse space, bundles of fresh flowers and rolls of chicken wire and dense green foam on every flat surface. Loud conversation and bodies brushing close. I’ve seen glimpses of Mabel, hurrying between stations, a flurry of activity as she arranges and rearranges and sends people out the door.
“These are beautiful,” Evelyn fluffs some baby’s breath near the top of the arch and drags a fingertip over the petal of a pale pink peony, the bloom still clustered tight. Standing on the step stool, her ass is right above my face. I could bite at the top of her thigh if I wanted to. She turns and looks down at me, a sly smile curving her lips up. I don’t bother looking away from her ass.
I reach out a hand and help her down. “They are.”
Mabel is incredible at what she does. Her floral business has been slowly expanding over the past couple of years and this might be her biggest wedding yet. I look at all the arrangements spread out over the greenhouse, Gus standing by the door with what looks like five bouquets balanced in his massive hands, a patient look on his kind face as Mabel talks animatedly in front of him. He nods and jerks his head out front to where the ambulance is waiting, back doors propped open.
“I think Gus is trying to drop off flowers at a wedding in an ambulance.”
Evelyn hops off the last step of the stool but doesn’t drop my hand. I squeeze her fingers with mine, a tiny, white bloom stuck to her pinky.
“He might need the ambulance in a second.”
I laugh and Evelyn glances up at me, a wide smile on her pretty face. I forget that we’re in the middle of town in a crowded greenhouse. I forget that Cindy Croswell is standing three feet behind us, sneaking a peek through a bundle of eucalyptus.
All I know is that I want to kiss Evelyn while she has jasmine caught in her hair and I’ve got this feeling in my chest. Like someone kicked me out of an airplane. Total free fall. No parachute.
So I do.
I cup my hand around the back of her neck and tug her into me, a softohpressed against my mouth and her hands flat against my chest. I keep it chaste and easy, a gentle brush back and forth. A quick nip at her bottom lip. Her hands curl into fists as she sways into me, a light admonishment with the rap of her knuckles against my collarbone.
“Everyone can see,” she whispers against my mouth, not moving an inch. The sound is muted by the foam in my ears, but I can hear her all the same. I can also hear Cindy Croswell drop everything she’s holding right behind us and go rushing towards the supply closet where Becky Gardener disappeared ten minutes ago.
I bump my nose against hers. “I don’t care.”
