Oh.Oh.They’re cute together.“Um, do you guys want to take the tea and croissants inside? I need to wash my hands before I eat,” I say, holding up my dirty hands for them to see.
They agree and grab the box of croissants, tea, and cups to follow me inside. Bay pops his head into the office as we walk by and tells Zander and Troy about the food, and both of them join us in the kitchen. Seb heads for the powder room as E washes his hands in the kitchen sink, then puts his head in the fridge, rooting around. The guys each grab a croissant and sweet tea and sit on the stools at the island.
“Okay, I’m making panini-style sandwiches with fruit. We’ve got ham and roast beef. Who wants what?” E asks.
I look around quizzically as everyone calls out their orders and E grabs ingredients. What is happening right now? Zander walks over to me and smiles. “This is what E does. He loves to feed everybody,” he whispers. “It’s lunchtime, so he’s going to cook something. I’ve tried to tell him we can feed ourselves, and so have the other guys. It does no good. Just let him do his thing.”
I watch E and the rest of the guys again for a minute, then walk over to the sink to wash my hands. Grabbing fruit from the fridge, I wash it and place it in a bowl. E looks over at me. “Do you know your way around the kitchen?”
“Yeah, I used to cook all the time back in Virginia.”
“Thanks for the help,” he smiles. Man, this guy is lethal when he smiles. I wonder if he models in his spare time. He could make a fortune.
I cut up several fruits and put them in a big bowl on the island. Seb tries to stick his hands in the bowl, and I hit his fingers with the serving spoon. “Bad Seb. Wait until everyone has their sandwiches.”
The guys find that hilarious, while Seb pouts. “Oh, Summer,” Troy laughs. “I’m going to enjoy having you around. Seb needs someone to keep him in line.”
I shake my head and grab some plates for the sandwiches. I cut up each sandwich as E hands them over. Once we’re all sitting down, I hand the fruit bowl to Seb first, and he smiles at me.
The guys trash talk and joke as we eat, telling Zander and me what they’ve been up to while he was in Virginia. Zander and Troy offer to clean up when we’re done, so the rest of us head back outside. As we’re entering the garage, I hear another car. Looking up, I see a tan Jeep with the top down coming up the driveway.
“Oh, hey, Nick is here,” Seb states. We all turn around, waiting for the Jeep to come to a stop. A guy with long dark brown hair pulled into a bun with shaved sides gets out of the driver’s seat. He’s huge, as tall as E but even broader. There are tattoos climbing up both arms and one peeking out from under his shorts on his right thigh. Dark eyes meet mine as he stalks towards us. “Hey man, how was class?” Seb asks.
A gravely voice responds with “fine” as he keeps staring into my eyes like he’s challenging me to look away.
I keep eye contact with him. “You must be Nick. I’m Summer.”
All I get is a blank stare in return. He looks over at the other guys, raising one eyebrow. That seems to be enough of a question for Seb, as he explains why we’re here. I’m not sure how to take that. A dismissal maybe? Or is he not talkative? The guys enter the garage unfazed, so I follow them upstairs.
“Sunshine, what’s next?” Seb asks.
“Um, we can start going through the gardening boxes and maybe someone can check the tools to see if they’re still usable?” Nick and Bay immediately head over to the tools, so the rest of us open the gardening boxes we set aside earlier. The first few boxes contain old planting trays, pots, and labels. The next box I open has gardening journals from Mara and old seed catalogs.I remove the old catalogs and set them aside. Closing the box back up, I take it downstairs and set it inside the door so I can read the journals later.
Looking outside, I see the sky has darkened in the last few minutes. I read about strong thunderstorms occurring in the spring, so I watch the sky for a few minutes as the wind picks up. Turning around, I see Bay and Nick coming down the stairs with the rototiller and a bunch of other tools. “Nick? I think it’s going to storm, and you don’t have the cover on the Jeep.”
He looks up at me and then gazes outside. “Shit,” his deep voice rumbles, rushing past. He quickly jumps into the driver’s seat, parking the car in the empty bay before the rain starts. Getting out, he closes both garage doors. “Thanks,” he mutters, not making eye contact, as he passes me and heads back to Bay and the tools. If I wasn’t paying close attention, I would have missed his thanks altogether.
Okay, then. I go back up the stairs to sort through the rest of the boxes with Seb and E. Thunder begins, sounding like a predator growling at its prey, as flashes of light filter through the back loft window. As the storm rolls through the area, a large crack echoes, causing me to jump nearly out of my skin. Several booms within seconds of each other, powerful enough to feel like they’re shaking the garage, follow, resulting in my jumping again. Seb thinks it’s hilarious. E whacks him on the back of the head, but it does nothing. He apologizes for laughing, but I know there’s no malicious intent there. We find a few more journals, more seed catalogs, pots, seeds, trays, and a box full of small tools.
“You know, these old seed catalogs might be worth something, Sunshine. Maybe the botanical gardens would like them if you don’t,” Seb suggests.
“Yeah maybe. Let’s gather them in one box and place it with the journal box. Grab the box of tools too, please.”
Itake the last few journals downstairs as Seb grabs the seed catalogs and E takes the box of tools. Setting the journals aside, I peek outside to see the sun shining again, so I go to hit the garage door button. Several “Nos” are yelled behind me, so I stop and lower my hand, turning around.
“You don’t want to do that,” Bay says, coming over to me. “After a storm, the humidity and heat go crazy.”
I look at him in confusion. “What do you mean? Thunderstorms clear the air.”
With an amused smile, he gestures for me to follow him out the side door. I follow curiously, stepping outside. I’m barely able to suck in a lungful of air. “Oh my god,” I say and turn right back around into the garage. Seb and E find it hilarious, as Nick smirks. “How was I supposed to know that?” I say in exasperation. “Storms clear the air where I’m from. It’s a soup bowl out there!” I exclaim.
“Welcome to the South, Sunshine,” Seb chuckles. “It doesn’t look like we’re gonna be able to do any outside work today.”
Bay grabs the rototiller and brings it to me. “I’ll take this home to repair, if that’s okay?”
“You fix things?” I ask eloquently.
“Yeah, my dad is a mechanic, so I’ve been fixing things my whole life,” he shrugs.
