"Because people want it," I replied, like that should be obvious.
I left the shed again, and she followed. "Then how come it seems like you're guarding Evie?"
"Because she's the one who gets the venom." I wiped my temple against my shoulder, trying to stop the trickle of sweat rolling down my cheekbone. "Why, don't you like me here?" I challenged, turning it around on the plucky kid. "I fix stuff. Sometimes."
"Eh," she shrugged.
We were walking around the house, and I hinged an offended look down to her. "'Eh?' What does that mean?"
"You're so old," she rolled her eyes.
"Getting roasted by you on a daily basis is really great for my self-esteem," I commented.
Tessa looked me up and down, her light brown hair flying away from her messy ponytail in all directions. "I'll give you a compliment if you help us with the candles."
"You drive a hard bargain." I gestured for her to enter the house before me, and she opened the door. "I'll help. What's your compliment?"
Tessa gave me a devilish smirk over her shoulder as she sauntered toward the kitchen. "You're old but notasold as Nan."
"Wow, I'm glowing with praise," I drawled.
Evie turned to greet us, and a golden ray of sunshine caught in her hair as she moved, illuminating one side of her face in soft light. She smiled knowingly. "Did Tessa convince you to make candles with us?"
My body reacted to seeing Evie the same way it had for the past few days—flustered, aroused, and entirely confused. Ever since she’d put her face in my lap, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what it would feel like if she'd done it on purpose. And every time she moved, her hair flowed around her shoulders like silk magic, and her dresses whispered at her ankles like they had secrets. When she stood close, she smelled like spring.
It was all starting to do things to my brain. Crazy things.
I swallowed, tugging my sticky shirt away from my chest and fanning a little air down the front. "Tessa has convinced me to supervise the candle making in exchange for a snippy compliment."
Tessa rolled her eyes. "He’s afraid to get his hands dirty."
I held up my palms—which were, in fact, coated in dust and splinters. "Yes. Terrified."
"Supervision is very welcome," Evie replied with mild humor. "Dr. Frost already donates his time to us, so he can watch if that's what he wants."
Evie scoffed, giving me another unimpressed once-over. "'Donates.'"
Ignoring the cheeky heathen, I toe-heeled my shoes off at the door and headed to the kitchen where Evie was already setting up the supplies to make candles. I'd watched them process all the wax yesterday, melting it, straining it, and then doing it several more times until it was smooth, and I had a new appreciation for my artisan candles back home.
As I came to stand at the sink next to Evie, she gave me a brief, hesitant smile. "Thank you for fixing the fence. You didn't have to."
I remembered now why I'd wanted to be outside. Alyssum blossoms and lavender tickled my senses, and I had the sudden longing to trail my nose up the curve of her neck and inhale deeply. I shook my head, scrubbing my hands.Creepy, Frost. Very creepy.
I slid a sideways look back to Evie, and I found her unwrapping long, white wicks from a package, her glossy hair sliding over one shoulder and framing her profile like a waterfall of honey. I stared, my hands frozen under the water. Just where had this nymph come from and why couldn't I stop staring at her?
She caught me staring and did a double take. "What?"
"Nothing." I shut off the water and dried my hands on a plaid towel. "Do you… need help, though?"
"No, Tessa is just entering her less-than-helpful preteen phase, I think," she said almost conspiratorially. "She'll be fine. We have this down to a science."
"I guess I'll go supervise, then." I went to the kitchen table, which also had bowls of dried flowers and little vials of scented oils on it, and I tried to be out of the way. So far, we hadn't seen any sign of intruders since Evelyn's mishap at the hardware store. Our contact, Remington, had been quiet as well, and I hated to even think it, but I was starting to relax. It was possible that my stay with Evie would be uneventful, she would get the trained protection she needed at the end of two weeks, and we'd all part ways on a positive note.
Although, "part ways" stabbed my chest in a strange way. There was something about the Farm that had settled onto my skin comfortably. It felt familiar here, already. Homey, even. And honestly, it was entertaining every day. Evelyn was always busy, always doing something unexpected or new, and I found it fascinating to watch her work.
I had my laptop at the table, but I looked up from it frequently, observing the way she and Tessa chattered about a TV show they were both watching while they worked. Tessa had told me the first day I'd met her that she looked out for Evie, and I saw the evidence of that in little ways as they melted down wax and added necessary ingredients to it. Evie would sweep to the side to grab something, accidentally swiping the pot handle that could have caused it to tumble to the ground, but Tessa smoothly righted it before going back to her own task. When Evie absent-mindedly brushed dried herb stalks off the counter, Tessa shoved a garbage can under it to catch it. They worked insync, a perfectly cohesive team, and Tessa didn't seem to think twice about looking out for her cousin's cursed clumsiness.
It was heartwarming, dammit. I liked it. I was feeling all kinds of gooey things I didn't normally fall prey to. I made a mental note to throw a raunchy, shamelessly shallow party as soon as I got back to Oregon. I'd have to wash off this flowery, syrupy encounter somehow or I'd never shake the images of Evelyn from my mind. Although, I had my doubts about the effectiveness of that plan. It was difficult to forget the bee goddess with clumsy feet and heavenly shampoo.
