Having not seen me approach, he jumps, sending his phone flying through the air and landing in his backseat.
“Jesus Christ, Eve,” he says.
And then whoever’s on the other end of the phone says, “Eve? Your sunflower girl?”
And something about the possessive sends a little zip of heat down my spine.
He grumbles as he reaches behind the passenger seat to retrieve his phone. “Yes. I have to go, Sana. Are you good with everything?”
“You got it,” she says, and after a three-second pause, the line disconnects.
Ryder turns to me, eyebrows raised. “Quite a greeting,” he says, as he grabs a paper bag from the passenger seat.
I can’t help my grin as he pushes open his door and hands it to me.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, as I reach in and run my fingers along the blue sweater it contains.
He shrugs, his eyes dipping to the cream version I’m wearing as he comes to his full height. “Something tells me I’ll be glad I did.” He pauses for a moment, nodding toward my sweater. “That looks nice on you.”
“Thank you,” I say, turning toward my house in an effort to hide my reddening face. “I love it.”
He grins. “Good.”
Silence falls between us, but rather than searching for therightthing to say, I grab his hand and tug him toward the house. “Come on, these are precious moments of sunset we’re wasting.”
“Precious moments?” he mocks, falling into step with me as he locks his car over his shoulder.
I wave him off. “The barn,” I explain. “I had a last-minute cancellation, meaning we can see the sunset from the best vantage point on the farm but we have tohurry.”
He kicks up his pace. “Alright, I’m hurrying.”
By the time we get there, the sunset is full blast in the sky. All pinks and oranges and reds. I feel terrible for the people who canceled due to a family emergency and won’t be able to see this, but it does mean thatIcan.
We climb the stairs to the converted loft and I enter the door code to get inside. It’s a large studio meant for a couple, but there are a few trundle beds stored away for the occasional small family that comes through.
The inside is bathed in the warm glow from the sunset. Along one wall is a king size bed, and next to it, a bookshelf filled mostly with my castaways—a few books on sunflowers for good measure, and a nice mixture of genres I’ve picked up from various trips to the thrift store. Across the room is a small seating nook with two big comfy armchairs, and next to that, a galley kitchen with stainless steel appliances and a yellow coffee maker.
And directly in front of us, the beautiful clawfoot tub that almost didn’t make it in here, framed perfectly underneath the gigantic window that looks out over the sunflower farm.
“Wow,” Ryder mutters as he shuts the door behind him. “You weren’t kidding about the sunset.”
I put a lot of work into this barn studio to make it nice, but his eyes travel right past all of the little details and land on that big window in front of us, the sky streaked in all sorts of bright colors.
And that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be. This whole room was made to fade into the periphery when that sunset pops up.
“Get in,” I tell him, pushing him toward the tub.
“Uh, what?”
“Get in the tub. You won’t get the full experience unless you’re in the tub.”
I throw one leg over the side and gesture for him to do the same. “Come on, you don’t have to get naked or anything. You just have to see it how it’s intended to be seen.”
He raises his eyebrows and then follows me in. “Okay then.”
I sit, keeping my legs close so he has room to do the same. And then I turn toward the window, resting my arms on the edge of the tub and looking out over the farm. The sunflowers sway slightly in the breeze, and all throughout the fields I catch the odd visitor still hanging out, or one of my guys cleaning up or collecting bouquets to send down the street to Rory’s flower shop or one of the many wedding venues along Main Street.
Moments like these remind me why I work so hard every day. Maybe not for this moment exactly, but the ones that come every once in a while and remind me that all the work I’ve put in isn’t for nothing. That other people appreciate this thing that is built from blood, sweat, and tears. “Isn’t it absolutely beautiful?”
