He didn’t give me a polite huff or the almost-smile. He gave me a real laugh, low and rough, rolling out of him in a way that made Birdie grin and Tyler look relieved to still be alive.
The sound hit me straight in the chest, and I tightened my grip on the hose.
“Turn it down,” Zane said, still amused.
“I’m afraid to touch it.”
“You’re already holding it.”
“I know. That’s part of the fear.”
He stepped beside me instead of behind me this time and adjusted the nozzle with two fingers. Water softened from a threat to a gentle shower.
“There,” he said. “Try the base of the plant.”
I aimed carefully. The water darkened the soil around the first start.
“Like that?” I asked.
“Like that.”
The praise was barely praise, only two calm, practical words.
My skin warmed anyway.
We moved down the row, Zane staying nearby for the first few plants before giving me space. I watered slowly, careful not to wash out the soil, and after a while the motion became almost soothing. Sun warmed my shoulders, water pattered over earth, pine shade shifted at the edge of the garden, bees worked over the flowers, and my own breath finally settled into a rhythm that didn’t feel like panic or performance.
Maybe Birdie was right.
Maybe the first day was hardest because I was still trying to look like I hadn’t been dragged here by the worst choice I’d ever made.
By the time the row was finished, my blouse had dirt on the hem, my flats were beyond prayer, and my arms felt like overcooked noodles.
But the plants were watered.
The weeds were in a bucket.
The world hadn’t ended.
Zane took the hose from me and coiled it with quick, practiced loops. “Not bad.”
“I only assaulted you once.”
“With water.”
“So far.”
His gaze met mine.
The joke hung there, bright and risky.
I should’ve looked away.
I didn’t.
His shirt had dried in patches, but one damp place still clung near his ribs. A line of script disappeared under the sleeve at his shoulder. His forearm flexed around the hose, ink shifting over muscle.
Zane studied my face, then dropped his attention for one brief second to my mouth.
