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“You’re the one who said you’re always hungry.” She laughed as she passed him a bottle of water. He sprawled comfortably next to her on the bench seat, leaning in to place a kiss on the apple of her sun-warmed cheek.
“Thanks for feeding me. You didn’t have to.”
Her hands skittered to a stop over the propped-open basket. “Just like you didn’t have to rearrange your schedule to take me fishing, you mean? Bringing lunch was really the least I could do.”
Jackson wanted to answer her, but he was suddenly too busy contending with the explosion of spicy, smoky flavors having a party in his mouth. Each bite brought a slightly different combination of hearty richness from the meats and mild sweetness of the red peppers. He might not know the fancy names of the herbs she’d used to give it that final kick of over-the-top goodness with each swallow, but that wasn’t going to stop him from enjoying them to the hilt.
“Wow.” The word was a muffled grunt more than anything else, and Jackson spent another minute eating before finally pausing to speak again. “The red pepper goes great with the cold cuts. Even the leafy stuff tastes really good.” He stopped to examine the layers of the sandwich in between bites, noting the different colors and textures.
“See, now you’re learning. It’s all about balance. All three meats are bold, but each in its own way. The sopressata’s smoky, the capocolla’s spicy, and the pepperoni’s a little of both. But then the veggies and herbs cool things down, while the balsamic and olive oil work their magic with smooth bite. Plus, it’s filling as hell, so I figured you’d like it. Even with the leafy stuff,” Carly laughed.
The wheels of his brain kicked to a slow, steady turn as he thought of all the ingredients. “So, you really think using local ingredients could make stuff like this even better? I mean, Pine Mountain’s not exactly known for its…well, anything, really.”
But Carly shook her head as if to disagree. “Using local ingredients makes sense, and you’d be surprised what you can find, even in rural locations. Take your mother’s garden, for example. With a plot that size, I could go a long way toward making unique daily specials with ingredients I know are at the height of freshness. The only hard part is getting started. Well, that and getting funding.”
Jackson paused, his sandwich halfway to his lips. “There’s a huge nursery and farm out in Bealetown, where my ma gets a lot of annuals and seeds and starter plants. It’s only about thirty minutes from here. If you wanted to start a garden, that’d be a great place to get supplies.”
He’d been to Brooks Farm countless times, hauling everything from flats of petunias to strawberry plants to the crepe myrtles lining the garden path for his mother. Jackson could find the place in his sleep. “I could take you if you want to check it out.”
“Really?” Carly’s eyes danced, the excitement on her pretty face so obvious it all but reached out to pinch him. “If I could come up with a solid business plan and get my hands on the resources from somewhere that close by, I might just be able to get resort management to approve a garden on the premises. God, could you imagine how incredible it would be if I could get my hands on fresh produce every day?”
Her hands fluttered to emphasize her excitement, and not even the sun overhead could hold a candle to the wide, bright smile parting her lips. “I mean, we’d still have to use our distributors, but not nearly as much, so it would cut costs on that end. Although start-up might be a problem. And I’d need quite a bit of space for a project like that. Still…”
Her murmur tapered into a look of deep thought, as if she was so caught up in the ideas that she’d forgotten she was spinning them out loud.
No two ways about it, Carly’s enthusiasm was catching. Jackson stared at her, his thoughts coming together in a steady stream ofhell yes. He leaned in, brushing his hand across her knee to capture her attention.
“There’s that field across from the west gate, adjacent to the side entrance of the restaurant. It’s got to be almost an acre of wasted space,” he said, estimating it in his mind’s eye. “It’s partially blocked from view by the grove between the resort and the west-side hiking trails, and the ski slopes and villas are all on the other end of the complex. You really couldn’t ask for a better place for an on-site garden. It’s even on the same side of the resort as the restaurant.”
Carly chewed her bottom lip, a streak of uncertainty taking the edge off her smile. “Yeah, but even so, once you factor in a professional landscaper, a contracting company for the actual labor, and at least one full-time gardener to oversee maintenance, the price tag might be more than the resort is willing to consider. I’d need one hell of a business plan to convince them to do it, with the research to back it up. It would take months of trial and error before I found someone with the know-how to help me plan something like this.”
She had a point. Jackson knew from experience that neither the knowledge or the execution came easy—or cheap. Shit, he’d helped his mother set up her garden from scratch, and it had been a labor of love, both physically and financially.
Jackson sat up straight, his thoughts clicking against each other like dominoes being knocked down by the flick of a finger.
“If research is all you need, then today just might be your lucky day.”
* * *
Areyou out of your ever-loving mind? This is the most insane thing you’ve ever done, bar-fucking-none!
Jackson had to admit, his inner voice might have a point.
When he’d blurted out the idea of hooking Carly up with his mother to talk about planning a garden, it had seemed benign enough. But then the genuine flush of excitement on her face morphed into full-on delight as they made their way back to the dock to put their plan into action, and he realized—too late—the gravity of what he’d done.
He was taking the woman he was dating to meet his mother. Onpurpose.
Okay, but they were going to talk about tomato cages and tillers, so how big of a deal could it be? After all, garden planning was in a totally different hemisphere from wedding planning, and it wasn’t as if he and Carly had anything serious going. Plus, with everything she’d told him out on the lake not even three hours before, Jackson was pretty sure getting hitched was in the very basement of things going through her mind.
Strangely, his inner voice didn’t argue.
“Are you sure your mom won’t mind us dropping in on her like this?” The concern in Carly’s voice carried over the breeze coming in through the wide-open windows of his truck, and his gut panged to life at the sound.
“Knowing her, she’s probably in the garden right now anyway,” he replied. “She usually goes out to pick vegetables in the afternoon. It’s how we used to know what was for dinner.”
Carly’s face, sun-kissed from spending the better part of the day on the boat, bent into a thoughtful smile. “Yeah, my grandmother used to do that too. You never knew what you were going to get,” she laughed. “But I can’t complain. She grew eggplants like nobody else, and eggplant Parmesan was the first thing I ever cooked all on my own.”
“Let me guess. You were eight at the time.” Jackson watched the loose tendrils of hair blow around her face like a dark, riotous halo.
