Ryder’s eyes danced with humour. “That’s a little dramatic, even for you.”
I huffed. “You think this is dramatic? You should see me when the Wi-Fi goes down.”
Ryder laughed. “Oh, I can imagine.” He looked around the troughs and benches, pointing as he answered my question. “I don’t utilise the glasshouses as much as I could because the ventilation and irrigation systems have... issues. I upgraded the ventilation control panel a couple of years ago. Bought some flash electronic thing, but it’s still unreliable. You can waste a lot of money on dead plants. I mostly grow herbs and microgreens. They seem to like the guttering system, and if I can get the hydroponic irrigation to stop glitching, I’ll eventually start selling them, but being so small and fragile, they’re super sensitive to even small changes in water and temperature.”
“And you can’t just get the irrigation fixed?”
He gave me a look. “It all costs money, which I’m not exactly rolling in right now. Not with the legal costs involved in fighting the council.”
“Right. Of course.” How to look like a thoughtless idiot in one easy lesson.
Ryder continued. “I do propagate some of the more expensive subtropical garden varieties and sell them directly to clients. And I raise seedlings for my own vegetable garden and manage to grow a few exotic fruits. I’m already picking tomatoes, and the melons are way ahead of schedule. It’s pretty damn satisfying if I’m honest.”
I couldn’t hide my smile at his obvious fervour. This was a whole different side of Ryder. He was in his element, and I was totally hooked. The guy was cute as fuck.
When Ryder saw my grin, he blushed. “Sorry. I get a bit carried away.”
“Don’t apologise.” Without thinking, I took his hand. “It’s... sweet.”
He groaned.
I smirked and tried to sound serious, “But in a really manly way, of course. As in super manly. The manliest.”
“Jesus Christ,” he grumbled. “You are such a pain in my arse.”
I waggled my brows and murmured, “Chance would be a fine thing.” Ryder responded with a loud groan, and I nudged my shoulder against his. “And my work here is done. Change of topic?—”
“Thank God,” he muttered.
I fixed the plywood with a glare and tapped my pencil marks. “Are you sure this is okay? You won’t hurt my feelings if it’s not. The very idea of using that electric jigsaw thingy is doing my head in.”
“Circular saw,” Ryder corrected, trying and failing to hide his smile.
I threw up my hands. “See, I can’t even get the name right.” I tapped my forehead. “This brain was never meant for construction. It functions strictly in binary code.”
Ryder chuckled. “You’ll be fine. It’s me you should feel sorry for. I’m the one who’ll be fixing the damn thing in place.”
I followed his gaze up to the gaping hole on the glass roof and blew a low whistle. “That has to be four metres, at least.”
“Four point five, but who’s counting?”
“Oh my God, you don’t like heights,” I said, way too gleefully. So, the Nordic God wasn’t perfect after all.
He snorted and shot me a wry look. “Not particularly.” He blew out his cheeks, took a long swallow of coffee and stared uneasily up at the empty frame.
A thrill of excitement coursed through me. “You’re just duct taping it in place, right? Until you get the glass cut?”
He nodded. “We can feed it through to the other side so that it sits on top and then hold it in place with tape attached to the metal framework inside.”
My back straightened and I announced, “Well, shit, I can do that part. It’ll be a piece of cake. Heights aren’t a problem for me—” I tilted my head toward the table. “—unlike tape measures and power tools. Swap you.”
He considered me for a second as if making sure that I was serious. Then his gaze travelled back up to the hole in the roof, and a slow smile spread over his face. “You’ve got yourself a deal. But only if I’m holding the ladder.”
I held out my hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
His large grip was warm and solid around mine, his palm rough, his thumb lingering on the back of my hand long enough for my cock to get a little unruly.
“You want to be careful, Ryder—” I slipped free of his grasp and cocked my head. “—or I might start thinking you actually want me.”
