Page 3 of Poinsettia Lane

To her surprise, when Asim has the furniture fullyarranged to her liking, he gestures for her to sit back down where she was before. Everly gives him a questioning glance before moving toward his outstretched hand.

“Have a seat,” he tells her. “Make sure you like how everything else gets set up from this area, since you’ve already surveyed the others.”

Shaking her head at the strangely considerate request and with a hidden smile on her face, Everly takes his hand and nearly melts at the warmth in the contact. Her surprised gaze flits up to his, and for a moment he looks just as stunned as her before she darts her eyes away again. Asim leads her over to the couch, where she attempts to gracefully sit back down.

Unfortunately, her version of “graceful” is not very, as she is immediately distracted by the powerful thigh in her very close peripheral vision, which in combination with his earthy scent engulfing her, results in only one butt cheek making it on the cushion and the rest of her nearly collapsing to the floor. Her saving grace is that massive hand encompassing hers, which prevents her from entirely losing her robe, all sense of modesty, and the little self respect she has left at this point.

“Oh my god, I am an absolute mess!” she says to herself, an embarrassed, breathy laugh accompanying the statement, not realizing this exclamation also came out loud enough for him to hear.

“I quite like it,” is his soft reply. “If you think you’re safely settled, I’ll go grab the rest of the flowers,” he says with a quick wink as he turns away and strides toward the front door.

Everly doesn’t move a muscle while he’s gone, too afraid to break this spell. When he finishes placing the bright red and burgundy flowers around the room, he steps back with a different sort of smile on his face. One that conveys a sense of satisfaction, maybe even pride.

“Beautiful,” he says, eyes roaming over her and the poinsettias splayed around her in the sitting area. She’s too afraid to ask if he’s talking about her or the flowers, but her hopeful little romantic heart pitter patters all the same. Add to the swoop in her stomach the fact that her anxiety has started to creep back up on her, and she’storn between wanting him to leave so she can decompress, and hoping he has more to do so he stays a bit longer. Her uncertainty causes her to second guess everything, unsure how to act or what to say in this situation.

“Well, I think that’s it. Do you want to take a last look around, let me know if you want anything else moved before I head out?” he asks.

So that decides it for her, then.

Everly pulls herself to standing, wishing he had offered her a hand again, if only so she can see if that fiery touch was a one time thing. It must have been a fluke, or she imagined it. Maybe his hands were just really hot from the hard work?

Taking a moment to look around, a smile creeps onto Everly’s face. It really is a beautiful start to her decorating plans. Now she just needs to add the fresh pine branches laced with bright red holly berries, and string lights so everything glows. She checks the foyer, then follows him out to the front porch and down the steps to look back at it from the driveway as well.

Everly nods, “It really looks good. Thank you so much for delivering everything and helping me get it all arranged.” she says, looking up at him with a genuine smile on her face. When was the last time she felt such a real smile, and one that came this easily?

“You’re very welcome, Miss Moore,” he replies, before giving her a polite nod and turning back to his truck. She takes a moment to admire him one last time as he opens the delivery truck door and steps up into the cab. As he pulls around the turn in the drive, Asim rolls the window down and props his forearm on it, and well, now she knows one more thing she likes about him.

“Take care,” he says as he drives off, raising his hand once in a quick farewell.

CHAPTER TWO

EVERLY SLUMPS AGAINST the front door after Asim leaves, hands over her mouth, vaguely baffled as a wave of confusion and relief washes over her. What in the world just happened? It feels like she’s in some sort of hazy twilight zone, outside her body but somehow also feeling everything ten times more than she ever has before.

“Earth to Everly.”

She jumps, her fingers knocking against her lips when Frankie claps their hands, startling Everly out of her weird, fugue state.

“You good?” Frankie says, and Everly shakes her head no, then nods a confirmative yes.

“Yeah, totally good,” she says. “Wait, where did you come from?”

“I just got here, figured you could use some backup since it sounded like your morning was already thrown off. Also I kinda wanted to check out your Hot Delivery Guy, but it looks like I missed him,” Frankie says.

Everly stares at them, a blank look on her face.

“Okayyyyy… I found your list,” Frankie says, holding up the slip of paper. “I’ll just get started on the string lights while you take a quick cold shower, yeah? Morning is nearly over at this point, the party people will be here before you know it.”

Frankie’s right. The morning has somehow sped away from her and she needs to catch up if she’s going to get through this day in one piece. Everly nods her thanks and thumps up the stairs, as she had been trying to do the entire time Asim was here, but now feels much lessimperative than it did before. She doesn’t entirely understand what their interactions meant. She’s confused about how the entire situation ended, because she’s pretty sure he was interested in her, but then he left without asking for her number. She must have misread it.

A small voice still whispers that he was flirting with her too though, and that just maybe it did mean something.

Frankie leaves after getting some of the prep work done with promises to return in a few hours. Meanwhile, Everly’s thoughts tumble around her head as she gets made up for the day, largely focused on Asim. Everly curls and pins her hair, smooths lotion down her legs, puts the final touches on her makeup. She finishes with jewelry and comfy shoes for now, pulling out sleek heels for later, and leaving her dress hanging on the back of the door. Everything is ready for a quick outfit change and touch up this evening before the guests arrive, so she checks her watch and compares it to her planning sheet for the day as she walks much more confidently back down the stairs. Now that Everly has her game face on, she can remind herself what is expected of her, and that she knows precisely how to follow through.

Everly straightens her list on the counter and refills her mug, inhaling the delicious scents of a heady medium roast.

Coffee is one of her favorite smells, even though she rarely drinks it. The rich, earthy scent reminds her of carefree mornings growing up with her parents.

They drank coffee only on weekends, so the smell always brings fond memories of relaxing in the kitchen together on Sunday mornings with jazz playing over the stereo. As she thinks about it, more memories pop into her head: her parents laughing with her mom clinging to her dad’s arm; both of them dancing around the kitchen island, wrapped up in each other; quietly reading together in the soft sunlight after breakfast, her dad with a newspaper and her mom with a magazine or romance novel.

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