Rowan frowned. “Yeah, but how’re you going to keep it there? You can’t hold it up like that all day. What if the sculpture had legs?”
Legs without a head would be creepy as hell. I wasn’t looking to make a sculpture of a person, just the dress. But the dress needed to beonsomething.
I smiled at Ruby, an idea coming to me. “We can use Ruby’s base.” I rushed and sat in front of her, inspecting the base. “The body part is just screwed on. We can take it off and figure out a way to attach the skirt at the right height for a tea-length dress!”
Without speaking, Rowan went into the greenhouse to get tools, and we worked together to unbolt the chicken wire–wrapped body from the base, carefully setting it on the workbench. We were left with the iron base: basically a pole, with four legs on casters. After attaching the bodice to the skirt, we stapled a piece of a two-by-four inside the skirt and screwed the base into the lumber.
It was well past midnight when we were done. I was tired. I was sore. But I hadn’t had such an inspired night in a long time. I was creatively recharged.
This was what I loved about designing. About creating. Figuring out how to make an image in my head a reality.
Satisfied, I sat heavily on the garden sofa. Rowan sat next to me. Not too close—there were a good six inches between us—but this was the closest we’d been, both literally and figuratively, in days.
“So, this is good?” I asked, indicating the now-complete frame. To anyone who didn’t know better, it would’ve looked like nothing but barely shaped chicken wire and wood on a heavy base. But that’s not what I saw. I saw the colors of the blooms and the plants we’d cover it with tomorrow. I saw what we were creating, not what we’d made so far.
And so did Rowan. Because he was an artist like me.
“It’s great,” he said. “We have a really good chance if we can pull this off.”
“We’ll pull it off. We just have to hope others recognize our genius.”
He chuckled. “Same old Tahira.”
“Full of myself?”
“Confident.” He gave me the warmest smile. And I gave one right back. We gazed at each other like that in the dark night, and I didn’t know what it meant, but after spending most of the day convinced I’d never see that expression in his eyes again, I soaked it all up.
“Brilliant, too,” he murmured, leaning in.
I inched even closer to meet him, but then I stopped. Iwantedto kiss him. I wanted to slide back into how we were before I’d left, but first, I needed to know where we stood.
I exhaled, my hand on his chest. “Tell me what’s going on with you,” I said softly, his face still inches from mine. “I get why you were upset that I left, but you gave me those gorgeous flowers, then you made it clear that you didn’twantme here today. What’s been in your head?”
He blinked. “You, mostly. You’ve been in my head.”
I smiled, running the back of my hand over his cheek. He leaned into my touch. What was I going to do with my sweet Plant-Boy?
“I know we have a lot to talk about,” he said. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t want you to come back. I knew you’d come with another tsunami of big feelings, and mind-blowing creativity, and huge inspiration. I was scared I’d grow even more addicted to you and then just get left behind again when you went on to shine somewhere else. I’m used to looking at stars that are far away, Tahira. Not blindingly bright right in front of me.”
I shook my head. “We’re both brilliant, remember?”
He inched closer, his eyes full of intensity. “Only when you bring it out in me. I couldn’t have done anything like this without you.”
“You taught me everything I know about flowers, remember?” I put my hands behind his neck, pulling him closer. “We’re a team.”
I kissed him.
And kissing Rowan Johnston was perfect. My skin erupted in goose bumps like it always had. He immediately put his hands around my waist and pulled me even closer. His mouth was soft, but needy. He missed me as much as I missed him.
I managed to get even closer. If I could somehow meld us together forever right now, I would’ve been all over that idea.
Finally, we pulled away, but I kept my hands on the back of his neck to keep him close.
His eyes were dark. Lips pursed. Jaw twitching. He leaned forward, catching my lips in one more tiny kiss. “What now?” he whispered.
“I’d love to invite you to the tiny house, but my sister is sleeping in there.”
He chuckled, leaning forward and resting his forehead on mine.
