“Anything else you want to do?” I ask, kissing Honey all over her perfect nose.
I imagine he’ll want to watch a movie or even go for a drive. Maybe we could make out—wishful thinking on my part, I know. We could go through the papers in my office? Not my first choice, but a promise is a promise.
What I don’t expect to hear is: “I think we should do some work in the yard.”
Yet another sign that he’s lost his memory. “?‘We,’ as in both of us?” He nods and I scrunch my nose. “I’m not particularly… helpful? When it comes to that kind of stuff.”
Luca leans back against the counter and crosses one foot over the other. I’ve truly been blessed, because he’s wearing shorts again today.
“I’m not sure I believe that.” He laughs when I pretend to scowl. “And I think it’d be fun. I also think it’d be good for Betty to hear us outside together, just… being normal. If she tries to talk to us, we’ll just pretend we can’t hear her.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what, Luca Martín: It is not normal for me to be gardening with you.”
“I’d really like to garden with you, Emery Martín.” He looks downat me, smiling with those smug blue eyes. I’ll do anything for him, and he knows it.
I sigh. “Fine. I accept your proposal. I will sit outside with you while you get your hands dirty.” I motion to the sauce simmering away. It already smells delicious. “You’re clearly a natural at whatever you do, and I have a thing for competence porn. Something tells me I’m in for plenty.”
31EMERY
In my head, it looked something like this: Luca out in the sun, hands covered in soil, cradling delicate plants as he splits and transplants them. Honey would be happily chasing butterflies. I would have a drink, lemonade or something a little stronger, while making encouraging observations from the cool shade of the patio. Maybe, eventually, it would be so warm that Luca would be shirtless. I’m a big fan of this scenario. Big fan.
And yet, somehowI’vebeen roped into yard work. Honey is digging somewhere—she’s already brought me a gift: a dead, desiccated worm. The whole neighborhood probably heard my reaction. It’s muggy and there’s not an icy drink to be found. Luca is, regretfully, fully clothed. My assignment: weeding the vegetable patch.
“Carrot or weed?” I ask.
Luca doesn’t turn from where he’s doing something by the new trees Crash planted between our yard and Betty’s, which undoubtedly triggered her homicide fears, checking nitrogen levels or soil pH or something. I should have been listening more carefully while he explained, but he was bending over at the time. I’m only human. “Carrot tops look like parsley,” he says.
“I know that should be helpful,” I tell him. “But I’d like to remind you that you’re the chef in the house.”
He laughs, looking over his shoulder to where I’m kneeling next to the raised bed. “Smell it.”
Unsure, I lean in, sniffing. “Oh. It smells like carrot!”
“There you go.”
Honey trots over to me as if to double-check, and, frankly, who can blame her? I wouldn’t trust me in the garden, either. But we both trust Luca. I am on horny overload today because it is so insanely sexy to see him like this, back in his element. Hopefully any concerns that he’d lost the parts of him that madehimwho he was are gone now. Some things are just instinct, and Luca has plenty of that.
“I can’t believe Betty thought I’d buried you in the yard. Do you know how big a hole you’d need for that? I am way too lazy.”
Luca huffs out a laugh.
“You should have seen this yard when we first moved in,” I tell him.
“Great or terrible?”
“They had a putting green.”
He turns around, his face a portrait of horrified offense. “Astroturf?”
“Mm-hmm. From the eighties. You wanted to take money off the asking price.”
“God.” He turns back to his work, shaking his head, truly insulted. “I’m sure I’m a fan of xeriscaping and water conservation, but there are ways to do that with native plants.”
I watch him for just a moment, loving that he just dropped a bit of landscaping lingo and didn’t even notice. But also the bunch of muscle under his T-shirt, and the way his ass looks bending away from me. I should have taken up yard work sooner. “I love it when you talk gardener.”
He laughs. “How long before I tore it out?”
I snap back to the conversation and away from his ass. “Huh?”
