“Tomatoes, peppers, stuff like that.”
“I’m only going to call them nightshades from now on.” The grin on Luca’s mouth grew. “Sounds like a heavy metal band. Or?—”
Abruptly, he cut himself off. He looked over his shoulder, in the direction Emerson was just staring.
“What’s a heavy metal band?” Daisy asked.
Luca looked down at her.
“I’ll play you some later, if it’s all right with your dad.”
“Cool.” Except when Daisy said it, it always came outcoo, like a dove.
These were the facts: Luca had shown up. Luca was warm and charming with his daughter. Daisy stood motionless, mouth hanging open as she stared up at him, her standard posture for taking in something new.
But Luca had been warm and charming when Emerson met him at the bar. Emerson didn’t know why it felt alarming, absorbing it anew now.
He tried to remember how it had felt, wandering the farm with Luca Friday night, shoulder to shoulder. The easiness between them, both in the silences and how Emerson had been able to talk about this place with him. Both derisive and affectionate, the way he always talked about it inside his own head. He understood now that he had probably been trying to show off a little for this man. It had felt different,open, free, just the two of them on this land in the twilight, a beer in his system.
But Daisy was here now, and Jansel. It was no longer a Friday night. It was Monday morning. Emerson had returned to himself. He didn’t have space for carefree things.
When Luca’s attention returned to Emerson, his face was serious. Professional. As if they were on the same page.
“That sounds good to me. Shadowing Jansel.”
“Great. He can show you what to do. Bed C is over there. You can actually see him—that gray ball cap over there? You can take lunch whenever. Just follow Jansel’s lead. Let me know?—”
Emerson was already backing away when Luca interrupted.
“I’ll get right over to him, but—uh. I have some things in the car I was hoping I could unpack? Some perishables and stuff I took from my fridge that I was hoping—but if that’s not?—”
“Oh.” Emerson stopped cold.
“Sorry, I should have asked if I could bring?—”
“No, no. Of course.”
Emerson cleared his throat. Changed course. Walked past Luca without looking at him, assuming he would follow.
He had prepared for how he’d deal with Luca being on the farm.
But even after his conversation with Jayden, he somehow kept forgetting?—
Luca was going tolivehere. In the house. With Emerson and Daisy. Emerson hadn’t even cleaned the spare bedroom, which was full of drying herbs and seeding supplies.
Luca stopped at his car to pull out a backpack, a suitcase. Several tote bags.
“Can I—” Emerson started, trying to remember some sense of decency.
“No, I got it.” Luca pushed the car door closed with his hip. His arms strained under the weight of his bags, his black t-shirt tightening against his biceps.
“I can show you my room!” Daisy shouted.
Emerson turned with a swallow and followed her inside.
“The kitchen’s through here,” he said, unnecessarily, as it was visible as soon as you walked through the door. “The room where you’ll be staying is downstairs, if you want to drop?—”
“Kitchen first is good.” Luca let his things slide to the floor before picking a tote bag back up.
