Page 6 of A Vine Mess
We were growing a plethora of things in the garden, which members of the community could come up and pick, use in their own kitchens, or sell at farm stands in Traverse City on the condition that a part of the proceeds came back to the garden as donations.
It was very much a farm to table operation, and I was honored to be a part of it.
Today, we were finally putting the plants we’d started in the on-site greenhouse into the ground. At last, that harsh Michigan winter had loosened its grip, and the string of warmer days had thawed the soil considerably. We’d constructed a temporary tent over the garden to keep it protected at night until we were safely out of the frost danger zone.
Ella bounced happily in the passenger seat of my truck the entire ten mile drive, and I smiled to myself, my own happiness uncontainable in the face of hers.
When we pulled into the gravel lot beside the garden, Ella was out of the truck like a shot, racing toward her sister, who hungout on the fringes, directing people who pushed carts full of starter plants.
I followed Ella, joining the two Delatou sisters.
Brie’s head whipped toward me, blinking quickly as though she wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at. Her green eyes—a few shades darker than Ella’s—swung between the two of us like a pendulum.
“Liam, hi,” she said. “Did you…come together?”
“I was at the winery working on my flowers, and he asked if I wanted to help.”
Ella shot me a wide grin, and everything in me softened, yearning to reach for her.
Fuck. I had to get this silly little crush under control. She’d never looked at me in a way that made me think something was there between us—not once. And the last thing I need to be doing is thirsting after her when she was clearly still reeling from her breakup.
With a mental head shake and a strong desperation to change the subject, I blurted, “Where do you want me?”
It was a constant battle of wills—my body’s desire to be near Ella in any capacity, and my brain’s reminders that she wasn’t mine to covet.
Brie pointed to the back corner, about as far from the sisters as I could get. “Will you help with the apple trees? They’re small but mighty, so we could use your muscles over there.”
With a salute, I sped off in that direction, reaching the area where the Granny Smith saplings would go into the ground right as Ezra exited the greenhouse.
“Liam!” Ezra greeted me happily. “Fuck, am I happy to seeyou.”
I snorted. “You sure about that?”
“Absolutely,” Ezra grinned. “Your burly ass is a sight for sore eyes when I’ve been surrounded by women all morning.”
“One of those women is your fiancée,” I reminded him. “And the mother of your unborn child.”
Ezra rolled his eyes. “I’m not talking about Brie, and you know it.”
I barked out a laugh. Of course I knew that. Anyone with two eyes and a brain could see how much he worshiped his woman.
“I mean the rest of them.” He swept a hand out at the women bobbing up and down rows, inspecting plants and arguing over the best use of the allotted space. “Who knew Fanny was such a tyrant?”
“ThatFanny?” I asked, pointing at the owner of Blossom’s Flower Shop. “That sweet old woman?”
“She may be sweet on the outside, but her chest holds the heart of a dictator. Just because she owns a flower shop doesn’t mean she knows how to plant crops.”
“Neither do you,” I pointed out.
Ezra let go of the cart he wheeled over the uneven ground to shove me, and I chuckled. “You’re an ass.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You have icing in your beard.”
My hand flew to my face, combing through the coarse hair in search of the food remnants from my breakfast. At last I found it, brushing it away and pulling up the collar of my flannel to be sure I got it all.
“That was actually nice of you, Ez,” I said, clapping him onthe back.
