Page 2 of Poinsettia Lane

She mentally drops another dollar into the jar.

Smiling kindly, he replies “That will look really nice. I’ll start unloading the truck. I’m Asim, by the way.” He stretches the vowels and rolls his r’s when he talks, and she gets hooked on how he says “the”—it sounds more like “zhe”, which she decides is her new favorite pronunciation of any word, ever.

“Ah-simm,” she tries out his name on her lips, pronouncing it slowly to ensure she has it right and flushing when his lips quirk at her in response. “Nice to meet you, I’m Everly.”

Asim strides back outside and pulls up the back door of his delivery truck, while Everly spins around and sees her phone is still lit up with the video call. She grabs it, meeting Frankie’s eyes that are just as wide as hers. Looking her up and down, Frankie presses their lips together in what may be an attempt not to laugh, but Everly chooses to take it as a look of commiseration at her unfortunate first impression with Hot Delivery Guy, Asim.

“Soooo,” Frankie says, eyeing her. When Everly doesn’t reply, they waggle their eyebrows and continue. “Based on the please-kiss-me look you’ve got going on, I’m gonna go ahead and assume he’s hot and you’re already smitten?”

“Oh my god, shut up! He’ll be back in here any second.” Everly whisper-scolds her friend. Unbelievable. “Why are you even still here? I’ll call you back.”

Everly doesn’t wait for a reply and ends the call before Frankie can protest.

Just as she attempts to escape up the stairs to her bedroom, Asim comes back in with a massive tree trunk propped on his shoulder and the rest of the pine tree tied up and trailing behind him. Is this guy also a lumberjack? That tree is enormous, and she can’t help but imagine the muscles he must have under his shirt, not to mention his thighs in those jeans look like tree trunks themselves. Who even wears jeans that fitted? Especially to do manual labor.

“Everly?” she hears, and it is clearly not the first time he’s called her name. She looks up to see his head tilted toward her, the hint of a smile on his face.

“Yeah?” comes out of her mouth, breathy and soft, before her eyes go wide again. Great one, Everly. Bedroom voice. You’re really making this first impression even better.

Thankfully, he doesn’t call her out on it.

“You mentioned you want the tree in the other room. I’ll get it set up first and then sweep all the needles out before I bring in the poinsettias so you don’t have to clean around them. Where would you like it?”

“Oh.” She turns and heads back into the front room with him. “If you could set it up at the far end over there, in the left corner away from the windows.”

“Sure thing.”

Just as she turns to make her second escape attempt, he calls out to her again.

“If you don’t mind, why don’t you walk me through the setup of this room while I get the tree situated. What are you imagining and what will go where? That will help me arrange the poinsettias to your liking.” His voice is so enticing; somehow commanding and measured all at once. Her fingers itch to reach out and touch him. She wants to see if his sun-kissed skin is as warm as it looks, and if his arms are as unyielding under her touch as they appear to be when hauling around the pine tree.

“Right, yes that makes sense.” Everly fists her hands in the hem of her robe. So much for changing into something more appropriate. She’ll just have to make doand ensure her robe stays securely closed.

She describes the layout of the room; pointing out where the dessert table will be, then walking around the area that will encompass a number of standing tables by the windows, and lastly gesturing to the furniture up against the back wall which will form a more relaxed sitting area. He nods along with her and asks a couple questions, offering to move the furniture into position for her as well so he can place the flowers accordingly.

Everly thinks she would have to be out of her mind to decline another opportunity to see those muscular arms in action. Although she’s not religious, she still turns her eyes skyward with a breath of thanks and a plea for willpower when he shrugs off his outer layer, revealing a tight gray t-shirt beneath that shows off his biceps in a manner that feels deliciously obscene. Everly now realizes why women in historical romances are always described as fanning themselves; she feels hot and flushed all over and could certainly use a brisk fanning.

She snaps her head around at his low chuckle, realizing she was pointedly looking up over her shoulder in an attempt to avoid ogling him, and he definitely noticed. Wide eyes meeting his, Everly clears her throat and walks over to the sitting area, intent on getting some space and sitting down for a moment, having completely forgotten they had just been talking about moving the furniture. Halfway down to sitting, he speaks again, and she freezes.

“While I’m sure you wouldn’t add a significant weight to those love seats, they would undoubtedly be easier to move without you sitting on them.” Seeing his sexy little smirk, she tips her chin up. He wants to tease? Fine, she can play this game too.

She chooses to complete her poorly timed journey, and primly sits herself down on the edge of the forest green velvet cushion.

“While I’m sure your monster arms would have no trouble moving either me or the chaise lounge, I have not yet decided how I want them to be placed.”

There, she thinks, patting the flyaways along the sides of her face. That will show him who is in charge here. His eyes flick down to her long, bare legs where the robe hasridden up her thighs.

Everly does not expect the soul stopping smile that breaks out on his face in response to her admittedly snooty reply. She’s never met someone so expressive. Those full lips give off an almost boyish grin, but the stubble surrounding them is all masculine. It heats her to her core and blanks out her mind.

“My monster arms, huh.” His twinkling eyes scorch into her skin as Everly tries to maintain her composure. “We could test that theory, but I’m willing to bet they would have no trouble at all moving you wherever I desired you to be.” His voice has lowered slightly, and he takes measured, confident steps toward her.

The breath sticks in her lungs and Everly does her best to hold her legs steady as she rises, pulling her robe back into place around her as she does so. He pauses a few inches in front of her, his eyes flicking back and forth between hers, and she can’t quite decide what she wants to happen next. Is he going to kiss her? No, that would be absurd, he’s working and she is a complete mess, they literally just met, and there’sno wayhe is having the same thoughts as her right now. She reads too many romance novels, obviously. But what did he mean by that, if not what she thinks?

Asim raises both hands toward her, but he pauses halfway, affording Everly time to move on her own if she doesn’t want to be touched. So much more gently than she expected, he places his hands on her upper arms and shifts her to the side. His thumbs brush back and forth over her robe before he lets go and steps back from her. She feels like a fish, snagged on his hook with her mouth gaping, unable to even look away.

“Alright then, where are we putting this lovely chaise?” he asks, emphasizing her previous word choice, though from the sparkle in his eye she doesn’t think he’s teasing her in a mean way.

Everly mentally pinches herself, then sucks in a breath as she strides back into the center of the room, eyeballing how she wants the sitting area to be set up and directing him on where to place the various pieces of furniture.

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