He was still there.
The lake had cooled on my skin, but the places his hands had held me stayed hot all the way home.
Chapter Four
The drip-line cap shot out of my hand and rolled under the workbench the second Daphne walked through the gate.
I stayed crouched beside the crate of irrigation parts, one hand still wrapped around the empty line, while water ticked from the open end onto the shed floor.
Birdie looked up from the pepper bed. “Need backup, Zane?”
“Not yet,” I said.
Daphne stopped near the P-Patch sign with her tote on one shoulder, her brown hair twisted up, and loose waves already escaping around her face. She wore worn sneakers, denim shorts, and a soft blue tank that looked a little too much like the lake under July sun.
My hand tightened around the tubing.
Water ticked faster onto the floor.
Gus leaned on his rake near the south row. “Floor’s getting watered.”
Tyler came through the gate behind Daphne and looked deeply relieved. “Great. I’m not the only one having a morning.”
“Your mornings have more commitment,” I said.
Daphne pressed her lips together, but her smile got through. Her cheeks had gone pink before the heat had a fair chance at her.
“Good morning,” she said.
Her voice sounded normal if a man ignored the way she avoided looking at the shed wall where my still-damp boots sat from yesterday.
I reached under the workbench, found the cap, and stood. “Morning, Daphne.”
The cap slipped in my wet fingers.
She caught it before it hit the floor.
For half a second, the small piece of plastic sat in her palm between us. Her fingers were bare. Mine were wet. I could still feel how her hand had held mine on the dock.
I took the cap carefully. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she said. “I’m glad the leak is under control.”
Birdie made a happy sound from the pepper bed. “Before nine, no less. This garden is growing faster than I thought.”
Tyler looked at the tubing. “Is that harder than compost?”
“Everything is harder for you than compost,” Gus said.
Tyler frowned at him. “That feels personal.”
“You keep making it personal,” Gus said.
Daphne’s smile widened, and I had to look down at the drip-line cap before I did something stupid with my face.
I screwed the cap onto the open tubing and shut off the little valve. The floor had a spreading puddle across the packed dirt, dark and glossy in the shed shade.
Daphne stepped to the side, out of the water’s path. “Do you need a towel?”
