Tristan manages to coax Otley back to earth until he returns with the new ladder and a fancy harness that has Charlie raising his brows in approval. I feel a little bad about the second-rate equipment I’ve supplied in the past, but remembering what Tristan said about Otley’s love language, I bite back the urge to ask Tristan for the receipts. Instead, I retreat to the store, restocking the shelves while they finish hanging the shade sails. It’s hard to stop myself from hovering, but when I finally come out to look over their work, I’m touched to see that they’ve also strung new fairy lights and hung a set of elegant paper lanterns in the branches of the maple tree. The expense immediately springs to mind, but Tristan just gives me a beaming smile, and I swallow back my pride.
The morning rush starts shortly after, and it’s a good distraction for a while. Although, it’s not hard to track Tristan and Otley’s movements based on the swiveling heads of my customers. They pay for their buckets and chat about the weather, but it’s pretty clear they’re far more interested in my new helpers than the flowers. A group of middle-aged alphas follow Tristan around as he takes more shots of the garden, while a busload of omega co-eds gape at a sweat-sheened Otley like they’ve never witnessed manual labor in the flesh.
Not that I can really blame them for their blushes and giggles. It’s suchattractiveflesh, his heavy shirt stripped off to reveal acres of tanned muscle dusted in golden hair.
“Lumberjack porn,” Kaysie murmurs in my ear as we watch Otley scamper up the new ladder like an industrious squirrel. Charlie has dug a few more tools out of the barn, and they’re in the process of replacing our sensor lights, which haven’t been working properly since Leo was in diapers. “Do you think he’s any good at pouring a latte? Not that I mind training him up, or anything….”
“No,” I reply abruptly, earning a quick glance from my best friend. As she takes in my expression, her eyes twinkle knowingly, and I consider biting my tongue in two. “I’m just saying he’s more the outdoorsy type.”
“I’ll say,” she coos, still watching my face. “You don’t get a tan like that by just wheeling and dealing in a boardroom.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
She taps a finger on the side of my mouth. “Then this bit of drool is for the gorgeous photographer who keeps pointing his lens your way?”
I glance at Tristan, who’s grinning at me from behind his camera. He waves when he catches my eye, and I can’t suppress the bubble of happiness that swells in my belly. I’ve never really been a fan of getting my picture taken, but every time Tristan looks at me, I find my shoulders snapping back and my fingers itching to fiddle with my hair.
“Oh, girl,” Kaysie sniggers. “You have itsobad.”
“I thinkyou’rethe one who’s had too much sun,” I tell her, grabbing a spare bandana from my back pocket and tossing it at her. This one has big-mouthed frogs all over it, which seems fitting. “Can you watch the McCauleys for me while I duck into the store? I’m pretty sure Horace is drunk, and I don’t want him peeing on my rose bushes again.”
Kaysie groans, but hustles their way, while I grab a few supplies from the store. After smoothing my bandana back into place, I head over to where Otley is making the simple act of wiping his brow look like the opening scene of an erotic film.
“Here,” I tell him, thrusting the supplies into his arms.
He’s wearing his mirrored sunglasses again, but he takes them off and blinks at me. “What is it?”
“You’ll get sunburn unless you cover up.”
He stares at the logo on the Rosie’s Blooms polo shirt for so long, I have to assume I’ve insulted him. I mean, the guy wears Tom Ford boxers – I know, because half the damn town can see his waistband every time he bends over - but his gray eyes look almost soft as he pulls it over his head and smooths the black material down his body. “Thank you, Lily. That’s very thoughtful.”
“I sell them in the store,” I tell him, feeling beyond awkward. Now he’s in my clothes – thefarm’sclothes – I can’t seem to drag my eyes away from his torso. “I just don’t want you getting sunstroke and falling off the damn ladder.”
“Of course.”
I thrust the water bottle at him, and he chugs half of it before giving a sigh of relief. A droplet has escaped, trickling down the thick column of his neck, and I have to assume that’s why I can’t drag my gaze away, even with half the town watching.
Mine.
Shit. The possessive claim bounces around in my head, no matter how hard I try to shake it away.
When I refocus on Otley, he’s looking at me strangely. “Yes,” he says slowly, plucking at the front of the shirt. “I understand it’s yours, and only on loan.”
Mine? Jesus, did I say thatout loud?
I blink at him in panic, then blurt out, “I need to get back to work. Holler if you need anything.”
“’Holler if you need anything’?” Kaysie smirks as she follows me back into the store, leaning over to fan my face. “Girl, I thinkyou’rethe one who needs a tall drink of cherry cordial.”
She gives my cherry bandana a smirk, and I bite back a groan as I tug it off, replacing it with a floral one we sell in the store. Did I subconsciously pick the pattern because it reminded me of Otley’s scent? If I did, it’s a truth I’m burying six feet under the compost pile out back.
Kaysie is still cackling as she scoots behind the counter and starts pouring the syrupy cordial into chilled shot glasses. “How about I take a tray of these out? We can probably sell them for ten dollars a pop and make a killing.” She stands on her toes, peering out the window. “Yep, there are definitely a lot of thirsty bitches out there.”
“Stop.” I tug on the neck of my tee and look up from the pile of receipts that might as well be written in Chinese. “I’m trying to keep a rational head about all this, and your glee at my expense is not helping.”
“Then do you want me tonottell you that Paige Grubbs is currently dragging your alpha over to her cute little sportscar?”
My alpha?Ugh, why does that sound so good? “What are you talking about?”
