Page 29 of Poinsettia Lane

It’s in the middle of one such reverie that she’s very rudely interrupted by Frankie clapping their hands in front of her face.

“Get out of your head," Frankie grumbles as Everly nearly leaps out of her own skin. Thankfully, Frankie gave her a to-go cup with a lid for her tea instead of a ceramic mug, saving her from third degree burns.

Everly shoots Frankie her meanest glare. “Don’t rain on my parade," she says, feeling petulant.

“The weather is doing that just fine all on its own.” Frankie hates the rain. Most people in Arizona complain on the rare occasions it rains, but secretly they all love it. Rain is always welcome in Everly’s book. Besides, rainydays are perfect for curling up in her favorite leather armchair at Roasted while reading and sipping a steaming mug of Jasmine green tea.

Frankie’s not having any of it today though, and they haven’t told Everly what has their pants in a twist. Maybe it’s because Everly hasn’t turned a page in over twenty minutes on account of the reminiscing and daydreaming, and Frankie doesn’t like to be left out. They’ve been pestering Everly for “all the dirty details” about her weekend with Asim since their Sunday night video call, but Everly is hesitant, even after previously not being able to shut up about him, it feels like something is changing.

She feels different about Asim. Her time with him feels almost sacred, unreal, like it would be disrespectful to gossip about or minimize by trying to put into words the depth of what it has meant to her so far. There may also be a small fear in the back of her mind that if she talks about it, the beautiful bubble will burst and reality will come crashing in, taking him away from her. For now, Everly wants to keep it all to herself.

She settles back into her book, deliberately pushing her mind to focus on the words on the page, and not on what Asim will be wearing when she sees him tomorrow, or what casual touches he might grace her with, or if he will share more about his family or continue to spout random facts about plants. Everly is greedy for every little piece of him, and she needs to get a grip on reality before she completely loses it.

~~~

Everly is once again in the parking lot of Magnolia Nursery, and this time she has no problem jumping out of the car, the only one in the lot apart from the delivery truck. She wasn’t sure what to wear for this trip, which is a rare experience in her world, so she went with another yoga pants and cute sweater combo. Everly practically skips up the path to the front door, noticing the sign is set to closed but the door itself is cracked open. She assumes Asim left it that way for her, so after stepping inside she closes and locks it behind her.

The large roller door leading into the attached greenhouse on the left is down, making the space feel much smaller than it did last time she was here. Everly doesn’t see Asim in this area, and no one responds when she calls out a questioning hello, but the back door is propped open too so she takes purposeful strides in that direction.

She swivels her head left and right after exiting the back as she picks her way through the aisles of plants. Calling out again, she continues to get no response, and doesn’t see him anywhere. Everly is starting to wonder if maybe he was out front near the fountains and she accidentally locked him out. She opts to check the greenhouses while she’s back here, remembering he mentioned he had some plants still growing and not yet ready that he wanted to show her.

The first greenhouse is closed up tight, the second is wide open with no Asim in sight, and just as she starts to walk toward the third, a large black dog comes trotting around the corner, tongue lolling out and floppy ears perked forward, surprising a startled laugh out of her.

“You must be Moose. Asim’s mentioned you once or twice," Everly says to the dog, who pauses and wags his tail when he hears his name, then eyes her with his nose in the air. “Where’s your dad?”

Moose’s ears prick up and he turns toward the third greenhouse with a sign over the door that reads “hothouse.” Moose bumps the door open with his snout and then bodies his way through, tail waving madly as he disappears into the building. Everly follows him inside, and her breath catches at the otherworldly beauty that greets her. There are lush, bright green plants organized in neat rows along benches and hanging from the rafters, some with leaves trailing all the way to the floor. The filtered evening sunlight creates a magical feeling in her chest as she blinks in wonder at how it refracts around water droplets and off of wet leaves, throwing tiny rainbows into the air all around her.

Everly has her chin tilted up, head twisting back and forth as she turns down the center aisle where she last saw Moose with his nose to the ground, and then nearly trips over her own feet as her jaw drops open. She snapsit closed before Asim can turn around and catch her reaction, but she can’t seem to get her voice to work, or for her eyes to blink. She’s pretty sure they’ve been scorched open by the sight in front of her, and blinking would be a cardinal sin because she wouldn’t want to miss a millisecond of this experience.

Asim is in the hothouse, which is very aptly named, and he isn’t wearing a shirt. All her mind is capable of processing is sweaty, glistening muscles. She was just imagining what he might look like without a shirt on earlier, and it did not come close to the reality in front of her now. His muscles are sculpted, but not rigidly defined. He’s using a hose to water some of the plants, and his muscles flex and move as he raises and lowers his arm, rippling like a wave down his back as he maneuvers and angles it in different directions. Everly can’t tear her eyes away. She wants to lick those defined lines down his back and across his arms, which is an absolutely ridiculous thought and so wildly out of character for her that she doesn’t know what to do with it.

Everly carefully steps around and over empty pots and planting materials to make her way toward him when he raises the hose up higher to get to the plants in the far back row, and at this point she’s close enough to see the veins on his forearm as he adjusts the angle of the spray. Everly can say without a doubt that she has never been jealous of a hose until this moment. First the deergrass, now a hose… She wants those hands on her, immediately.

Something alerts him to her presence, maybe he sensed he was being watched or Moose grabbed his attention. Asim glances over his shoulder, and his eyes widen when he sees Everly gaping at him. He quickly turns toward her, flipping a nozzle on the end of the hose to cut off the water spray, then clawing a hand through his hair in an attempt to sweep it back from his eyes. All it does is give him a messy bedhead look, which does not help her attempts at controlling the inferno that is her libido. Everly follows his gaze as it traces the line of her body down her skin tight leggings, and then slowly back up again. She can almost feel it, as though phantomfingers are skating along in the wake of his gaze, sending tingles up and down her spine and heating her from the inside out.

The moment his stunning green eyes meet hers is explosive. She sees her own longing and intensity burning back at her, she has the sudden thought that she might be about to have a spontaneous orgasm. She heard that was a thing, but didn’t think it was real, not until this very moment when it feels like it’s about to be.

What must be an eternity later, Asim finally drops the hose and strides over to her. Everly starts to clear her throat, trying to find something to say, but he doesn’t stop. He walks right into her space, palms the side of her throat with his thumb tipping up her chin and fingers tangling in her hair, and leans over her. Asim freezes with his mouth centimeters from hers, his eyes focused on her lips and his entire body tense. Her hands instinctively went to his chest as soon as he was within reach, and his heart pounds under her palm. Everly’s fingers are trembling and her chest is heaving with stuttered breaths, but she doesn’t think she’s getting any oxygen. Her eyes keep flicking between his and his mouth, so close and yet so far from hers. Just when she thinks she might collapse, or scream, or die, he roughly grinds out through his teeth.

“I’d like to kiss you.” Low and gravely, his voice strokes down her spine. Asim still hasn’t moved, and the tension ratchets up between them. Somehow, his muscles harden even further under her hands, and she realizes he’s waiting for her. He’s waiting for a yes or no. For her permission or denial. Her brain is already shrieking “yes, yes, yes!” but her lips aren’t following instructions.

“Please," she breathes out and it’s barely a word, more of a whispered sigh, but he hears it, and he doesn’t hesitate.

With a noise low in the back of his throat, his lips meet hers. It’s not an aggressive kiss like she was expecting, though. His lips are gentle, although his hands are unyielding. He angles her head with the hand on her neck, and the other goes around her waist, holding her tightly to him. Everly doesn’t even care thathe’s sweaty from working; she wants to be closer, and she wants more. She wants to be ravished. With a frustrated whine, she pulls at his shoulders, urging him on, and it sends him over whatever line he was holding himself back from.

Asim consumes her mouth with his, then moves down her neck, trailing licks and kisses and nips to her shoulder where her sweater has started to slip down. He lets out a discontented grumble when he meets fabric instead of skin and reverses course, making his way back up her neck again. Everly’s body is shaking under his touch, shivering despite the heat. His lips are everything she dreamed they would be. She spears her fingers into his messy hair and yanks his lips back up to hers, taking her turn to thoroughly explore his mouth. She forgets to breathe and she never wants to take her mouth from his, but she feels like she might faint and isn’t sure if it’s from the heat of the hothouse or the heat of him.

She’s debating how to get more oxygen without pulling her lips away when a cold, wet nose shoves its way between them. Laughing and stumbling a little, she pulls back from Asim and pats the dog’s head.

Asim sucks in air, his chest heaving as much as hers.

“I guess he’s the jealous type. Everly, I’d like you to officially meet Moose," Asim says, giving the dog a good neck-scratch, and Moose’s tongue flops out happily as he pants up at them.

Taking the excuse for some space to catch her breath and her thoughts, Everly bends down to say hi to Moose and give him a few pats.

From the corner of her eye she watches him, Asim’s chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths, and he reaches up, linking his hands behind his head and stretching as he breathes deeply. Everly can barely contain herself. Her skin itches under all her clothing, and that rather impressive display in her periphery is not helping the antsy feeling in her limbs. She re-focuses on Moose, giving him some extra pets and scratches, cooing softly to him so she doesn’t give in to temptation and leap on Asim like she wants to.

They both look up from Moose at the same time, and Asim’s eyes snag hers again. He truly has the mostbeautiful bright green eyes, with flecks of amber and gold streaking through them, a dark outer ring encompassing the green, and enviable thick, dark lashes.

---