Page 47 of Love is an Open Book
“Well, get on with it. Don’t want people thinking our employees are slackers.” She winks at Mia.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t shirk his duties.”
Faye laughs. “Wait until I tell the book club you stopped by. We’ve got tickets to that convention in Chicago in a couple weeks and you’re the first booth we plan to stop at.”
“Awesome,” Mia says. “I’ll be sure to put together some extra goodies for your group. How many are there?”
“Well, aren’t you sweet,” Faye says. “There’s ten of us, counting my husband.” They tried to get me to join but I draw the line at reading steamy books with my bosses. “Gavin, you ought to give her a quick tour since she’s here.”
“I thought you wanted us to hurry.”
She waves this off. “It’ll be another hour before they’re organized enough to get started.” Turning to Mia, she says, “Help yourself to a free plant or two. Have Gavin show you the azaleas. You got a garden?”
I chuckle and usher Mia out. “It’s too early for your badgering, Faye.”
She huffs good-naturedly. “You’d better have made coffee, with that sass.”
“There’s a pot brewing, and I put a fresh carton of half-and-half in the fridge.” I push the exterior door open before she bombards us with any more questions. Like what exactly we were doing in the office before she arrived. Because I’m pretty sure the answer is verbal foreplay, and we’re not even in character today.
A quick tour turns into me troubleshooting the sprinkler system. Always something to fix around here. Cold water dripping between my fingers, I stand up after turning on the tap and find Mia lowering a tomato plant to the concrete floor. “What are you doing?”
In answer, she hops up on the table, scooching her butt around in a way that makes the wooden platform wobble. I take ahold of the edge to steady it, and my thumb inadvertently brushes the silky skin of her thigh.
I adjust my grip, but don’t let go. Only because Faye would kill me if Mia took a tumble on my watch.
“Testing for stability.” She glances down at my hand but doesn’t move away. “How much weight do you think these tables can hold?”
“Seriously, Mia?” My voice is gruff, frustrated at how easily I’m able to imagine the scene.
“Can’t pass up an opportunity for research.” She shimmiesaround in an alarmingly rhythmic way, and I do let go then, palming the back of my neck.
“Is your research always so... physical?” I’ve sure as hell never seen her do anything like that for research.
She slides down. “Never, actually. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” She sends me a coy look over her shoulder and it hits me that she’s doing this on purpose. Flirting, toeing the line we’ve drawn. Maybe she’s more curious about this new electricity between us than she lets on.
Whatever it is, the same feeling has me by the throat, pinned under a mixture of pleasure and the very real knowledge we’re headed down a path we’ve vowed never to venture onto.
Maybe all this time spent learning about her process has kicked my own imagination into high gear. “If you’re looking for romantic spots, I can do way better than a wobbly potting table.”
The humid warmth of the greenhouse sinks into my skin. Condensation slips down the fogged panes of glass in long, lazy drips. The tang of soil reaches my nostrils, the hum of a box fan muted by the thick air. I inhale a breath of what feels like pure oxygen, which must explain the heady feeling when I look down at Mia by my side.
“Gotta admit, I never got it until now.” She bends to sniff the delicate petals of a violet. “But I can see the vision of a greenhouse hookup.”
“Oh, so is that a microtrope? Greenhouse sex?”
She grins at me over her shoulder. “Looks like someone did the assigned reading.”
“When have I ever not read something you recommended?”
“You’re a really cool guy, you know that, right?”
I shrug. “A decent one.”
“Never met a better one.” She says it so casually, but the compliment shimmers in the stillness, iridescent as a butterfly’s wing.
I’m not sure what to say, or if I can even speak, because if that’s true, then what really is holding us back?
“I can see why you like working here,” she says, interrupting my thoughts. “It’s calming, and the view...” She turns in a slow circle, taking in the rows of lush plants.
