He leaned over and flicked me on the forehead. “Yes, I mean breakfast. Behave. We’ve had this conversation already.”
“But have we? Really?” I teased. “I mean, seeing you dressed as you are, a man could be forgiven for thinking that maybe he could reopen saidconversation.”
Ryder’s cheeks bloomed prettily, and he stumbled a reply. “I wasn’t . . . I mean . . . I didn’t think . . . This is what I always wear . . . I wasn’t . . . ugh—whatever. Like I said, don’t look.”
“Mmhmm.” I smiled across the breakfast bar. “Just so you know, that’s not gonna happen.” I drank my tea and made a point of eyeballing Ryder’s every move until I had him so rattled he had to go and put a shirt on. And yes, I hadn’t really thought that one through, dammit.
An hour later,Ryder had me working in the glasshouse, or rather, standing over a piece of board looking lost and bewildered. Whatever rabbit hole I’d fallen down, it had zero regard for my non-existent DIY skills, but Ryder was a tryer, bless his cotton socks.
In my other life, I didn’t possess a hammer, let alone a toolbox, and my experience with manual labour was limited to explaining what I needed done to whatever tradesperson I was employing at the time. It did not, under any circumstances, involve handling an actual tool, let alone responsibility for measuring or cuttinganything. If you needed someone to hack into the dark web and catch nasty people in the act of breaking the law, I was your man. If you wanted the hole left by a broken glass pane neatly plugged, literally anyone else in the entire universe would do a better job than me.
“How’s it going?” Ryder appeared at my shoulder. He wore an amused expression that made me want to slap him. It was only the fact that he was balancing two coffees and a plate of sandwiches on a tray that saved him, just.
“How do you think it’s going?” I pressed rewind on the retractable steel tape measure, and it snapped into place. “You do it. This is fucking embarrassing.” I slid the tape across the bench and wiped the sweat from my brow. The sun had been beating through the glass roof like a raging ball of fire all morning, frying my brain and my patience along with it. “Can’t we open a window or something? How do you work in here?” My gaze roamed south, and I groaned. “And could you please put a damn shirt on? I need my blood in my brain, not, you know,elsewhere.”
Ryder set the tray on the bench. “As you’ve so succinctly pointed out, it’s hot.” He pushed the tape back my way. “Come on. You can do this, Thaddeus.” He handed me a coffee. “And no, we can’t open the roof until we fix the hole. But—” He walked to the side of the glasshouse and slid open a door I hadn’t even noticed.
The tiniest of breezes licked at my face, and I groaned in relief. “Thank you, God. I was starting to melt.” I swallowed a mouthful of coffee and practically purred. “Mmm. This is good.”
He smiled at whatever he saw on my face. “Glad you approve.”
I took another mouthful and closed my eyes to savour the bliss, as well as block out the man’s naked chest. But when I opened them again, he was still shirtless. Aiming for safe territory, I pointed to his arm. “I forgot to ask what tree it is?”
“A kauri,” he answered, running his hand over the tattoo. “I got it after James left. A reminder that healthy growth needs solid roots.” He looked up, red staining his cheeks. “Corny, right?”
“Not at all,” I said quickly, then smiled. “Well, maybe a little. But if it works, who cares? It’s a beautiful tattoo.”
He ran his hand over it again. “Yeah, it is. The artist is a bit of a hermit. He lives off-grid on the West Coast. He’s kind of weird, but he does amazing work.”
“What about the one on your back?” I indicated the geometric pattern that covered Ryder’s entire back from neck to waist.
“Oh—” Ryder glanced over his shoulder as if he could see it. “—that’s based on the design of one of Versailles’ formal gardens. In my early twenties, I spent a year travelling Europe and the UK and saw all the famous gardens. Heligan Cottage is named after The Lost Gardens of Heligan, in Cornwall. It’s a magical place. Visiting it made me realise that you can createspaces for plants to thrive, even in places where you wouldn’t expect to see them. Like using tropical plants in gardens in and around Wellington.”
“Like you’ve done here?” I observed, somewhat surprised by the idea of Ryder—a man rooted in the land and his immediate environment—spending a year unplugged and travelling overseas. I’d yet to make it further than Australia.
Ryder’s eyes lit up. “Exactly.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do?” I pressed, making a mental note to read up on this Heligan place. “Push the boundaries with your gardens?”
“To a degree,” he hedged. “I like the challenge, or the idea of it, anyway. It doesn’t always work, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth giving it a go.” He considered me for a moment. “You looked surprised when I said I’d travelled for a year.”
“I suppose I was,” I admitted. “I mean, well, you don’t give off world-adventurer vibes, if I’m being honest.”
He laughed. “I might not like people much, but I’m not a recluse. I’ve seen a fair bit of the world, and I’ve worked in a whole range of jobs, including a roofing gang, helping to run a food truck, and doing track maintenance for the Department of Conservation. But through it all, I also tried to get as many hours as I could helping other landscaping businesses when they needed an extra hand and learning from them. Eventually, I had enough to go out on my own. My mother was a skilled gardener and I knew my plants and shit from a young age. But I needed some business savvy along with it.” He huffed. “I still do, as it turns out. I do okay. The business isn’t struggling or anything. But I’m still not great at that side of things.”
“Preaching to the choir here,” I told him. “I suck at peopling. I’d rather be in my PJs in front of my computer screen than go to meetings or events to promote or sell what I do.”
Ryder frowned. “I thought you wrote software. Does that involve dealing directly with clients as well?”
Fuck.I fumbled for an answer that wasn’t a direct lie. “The company has a PR guy and salesperson, but they don’t always understand the technical side of coding, especially if there are limits or problems with what the client wants versus what is actually possible. I tag along to provide that. Hence, the suit I was wearing the other night. I was supposed to be at a client meeting that day.” All of it true, omitting the crucial information that I, in fact, owned the company in partnership with my ex-best friend.
When Ryder didn’t press me further, I circled the conversation back to my efforts with the plywood. “I have no idea what I’m doing with this.”
Ryder looked over my shoulder at the markings I’d made on the piece of plywood using an old frame he’d given me as a template. “Looks pretty good to me.” He took the tape and checked the measurements. “Not bad at all. It’s just a temporary patch, Thaddeus. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”
“I don’t donot perfect,” I groaned, and slumped onto the narrow bench. “I told you, I sucked at DIY.” I scooted over, and he sat beside me; his warm thigh pressed hard against mine. I swallowed a smile; fairly certain the bench wasn’tthatsmall. I also wasn’t complaining. It felt... nice.Hefelt nice. What we were doing, working together in the greenhouse, felt nice.
I dragged a hand down my face and wiped it on my sweats. “I think I’m having a hot flush. Men can do that, right? I’m sure I read it somewhere. What the hell do you grow in here that needs nuclear reactor-meltdown temperatures to grow?”
