Page 45 of Barefoot Dreams
It can’t be because he loves mushroom coffee so much, so why?
Dare I hope it’s because of me? I might not dare, but I still do hope—it’s one of my flaws—and it bleeds into my every step. The closer I get to the station, the perkier my stride becomes.
Spring is slowly making its way to our little town, warming the chilly ocean air. Loverly Cave is a coastal town, so the winters here are so mild that many of the flowers don’t bother go into hiding during it. But there’s no mistaking the excitement in nature when the new season begins.
Bird song follows you everywhere you venture, the sweet scent of fresh leaves peppering the trees fills your heart with hope for new beginnings and the sky opens up more often than not, allowing small rays of sunshine to warm our skin.
The station is just a couple of streets away from my shop and in a matter of minutes, it comes into view. As if sensing my presence, Griffin walks out of the garage that same moment, wearing that same T-shirt he was in earlier, but it now, somehow, looks tighter around his arms. And a hat. Sweet daisies…he has an LCFD baseball cap on backward.
“Hey, is everything all right?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. Our fingers grazing against each other and sending that small thrill through my stomach. It’s the barest of touches but it’s enough. It’s all it takes.
“Yep, you just forgot this in your haste to get away from Fanny this morning.” I extend his croissant and card toward him.
“Oh.” Griffin looks down as if he just realized these were missing. “You didn’t have to bring it all the way here. I’d come looking for my card soon enough.” He takes it from my hands.
“I don’t mind the walk, the weather’s been brightening up. Plus, I didn’t want you to go without your breakfast.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
I should turn around and head back. What else is there to say? But neither one of us is trying all that hard to move away.
“My radishes are ready for harvest,” I blurt out, because of course, I do.
Thirty-two years old and I still can’t control what comes out of my mouth at any given time.
“Radishes?” Griff arches an eyebrow, and I can’t decide if he’s amused by my sudden statement or thinks I’m still that weird little girl. But I get distracted from the thought when my eyes are drawn to the tip of his tongue that peeked out in the corner of his mouth. And a small, loop-sided smile.
I almost whimper at the sight and shift from one leg to the other. Sweet daisies, a tip of his tongue, a small smile and I’m a goner.
What are we talking about? Oh, radishes. I clear my throat, feeling my cheeks heat up. “Um, yeah. Radishes and lettuce and my tomatoes are quite tall already. You should see them.”
“I’ve never seen radishes grow.”
“Then you should come. Tonight?” I clap my hands together, brimming with excitement because Griffin will come to see my radish.
It’s not the radishes I want him to see, but oh well. And now I’m referring to my lady parts as a radish.
Great.
Totally normal.
Normal is overrated, remember, Julie?You can call your vagina a radish if you wish so. Radish power and all that.
“Tonight sounds—”
“Sunshine!” A familiar voice cuts Griffin off, and it takes my mush of a brain a second to realize it’s Owen. You know, the guy I’m dating.
Both Griff and I turn our heads to see him approach with a wide, beaming smile. Not a single strand of his perfectly styled blonde hair is out of place in the windy weather and his navy suite, crisp and fresh.
Owen is an attorney, and despite the whole town telling him he can ease up and wear pj's to work if he wishes, he won’t budge.
Owen really loves his suits.
And I really don’t.
“What a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He wraps his arms around my bare midriff, drawing me into his chest and my bracelets ding loudly as I prop my arms on his chest to halter the embrace.
But it doesn’t deter Owen and he plants a kiss on my flaming cheek.
