"I'm standing right here," Tyler said.
Gus gave him a calm look. "Not for long if you drink that."
Daphne bit her lip.
I saw it. I also saw the quick flash of teeth, the effort not to laugh, and the way the motion dragged my attention straight to her mouth.
I turned toward the shed. "Bags inside. Phones away. Water before work."
Daphne saluted with two fingers. "Yes, supervisor."
The word should've cooled me down.
It didn't.
It reminded me exactly why I needed to keep space between us.
Birdie arrived from the herb bed with a basket over one arm and a straw hat tied with a red scarf. Her earrings today were tiny silver suns that flashed when she turned her head.
"Well, look at you," she said to Daphne. "Those are almost work shoes."
"Almost is my brand today," Daphne said.
"Almost keeps people humble."
"I was hoping for competent."
"That comes after humble."
Daphne looked at me. "Is that official P-Patch policy?"
"Birdie makes policy when I'm not fast enough to stop her."
Birdie smiled. "Which is often."
I handed Daphne a pair of gloves from the bin. Not the same ones as yesterday. I'd set those aside after shaking out the fingers and brushing off the dirt. I wasn't proud of that. I also wasn't going to hand them to Tyler.
"These should fit better," I said.
Daphne took them. Our fingers didn't touch this time.
Good.
Her gaze dipped to my hand anyway, quick enough that nobody else would've noticed.
I noticed.
That wasn't good either.
"Thank you," she said.
"You're on tomatoes with me first. Then mulch touch-up along the east row."
Her face tightened with dramatic caution. "The mulch and I have history."
"I heard about the conflict."
"You were there."
