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And yet, there had been a clear lapse of judgment from the guy, some disregard for life, either his or other people’s. How else could one explain his less than stellar history? He was a drunk driver. Did this somehow explain why he wouldn’t ride with her? Was he forbidden by law? It didn’t make sense to ban him as a passenger and allow him to maintain his license to drive around town on his death-cycle. Luna may be a mischievous brat, but he couldn’t be a good person either.
And yet…
And yet, for not being a good person, he didn’t seem completely bad either. Even with his ridiculous motorcycle, sketchy reputation, and poor personal style, he wasn’t what she would describe as a dangerous bad boy. He wasn’t. It was as if something deeper ran below the surface.
He had cleaned the patio, dragged out some furniture, was inspecting plants as if he was a scientist studying a new species, and he had done it all for her. This didn’t mark the behavior of an asshole. If Luna hadn’t any prior knowledge of the guy, she would have considered Sam a nice, decent person. Some part of her wished she had remained ignorant because maybe they could have had something fun between them. What she wouldn’t give to enjoy that instead of feeling guilty that Ross deserved better loyalty from her.
It was all quite perplexing, which frustrated Luna. It was so much easier when things were clear cut, black and white, right and wrong.
“So, what are you thinking?” he asked.
Shoot. She was supposed to be contemplating plants. Plants, plants, plants. The problem was Luna wasn’t much of an expert herself except for the few times she attempted a container garden on her grandfather’s deck.
“There’s three planters, right?” she replied.
“Yeah.”
“We don’t have to do all of them the same.” She pulled on the ends of her hair as she pondered it. “What if each one is different? We can do a decorative container of flowers, one with a variety of tomatoes, and one can be an herb garden. Part pretty, part practical. Tenants who cook a lot will love it.”
“But no roses, right?” His expression read teasing. He’d first gravitated toward the plants he recognized until Luna informed him they wouldn’t be good for containers.
“Do you have a thing for roses or something? Is there a secret rose gardener under that old baseball hat, dying to get out?”
“I don’t know. I just thought maybe every once in a while I could pick some to bring to my mom.” He fiddled with the leaves of a plant.
The guy was an asshole. The guy was an asshole. The guy was an asshole.Did she believe it yet? He wasn’t making this easy at all.
“Does your mom live in the area?”
“Yeah, for now. What about your family?”
Luna regretted bringing up the topic. She was trying to avoid thinking about her so-called mother ringing the store. She had been making Ross and Aanya answer the phones, and, every time it rang, her heart leaped into her throat as she wondered if Amy’s voice would be on the other end. Every time the shop bell jingled, it could be Amy who walked through the door. The only place Luna could relax these days was at home, and she hated the idea her absent mother made her want to hide in a cave for some peace of mind.
After all this time, why would she contact Luna now? For most of her life, she’d been in the same location. It’s not as though Amy had misplaced her daughter. When Luna’s grandfather, Victor, got sick, he’d called her, interrupting her nice life with her new family in South Carolina, but she hadn’t come. She also hadn’t come when Victor died. Nor did she come when Luna and Ross had been struggling to run the jewelry store on their own.
Was Amy planning on swooping in after they’d finally figured out their lives and were doing fine? It was too late. If Luna were to cry in regards to her mother, the tears would be bitter with salt and vinegar, and it had been a long time since that had happened. She was a dry well of sympathy because her mother had made it clear that Luna was never a priority, contacting her a few times over the years, making promises of visits or plane tickets, only to disappear and devastate Luna all over again. Why should she risk any more of her heart when it was already fractured?
Sam had asked her a question about her family, and she decided to keep it simple. “There’s no one. It’s just me and Ross…and now Mia,” she replied lightly, using the herb shelf to focus her attention. “Do you have a favorite herb?”
“I never thought about it before. I don’t really cook much.”
“I think my favorite might be basil. You can be eating the most generic, plain spaghetti in the world but you throw a little bit of chiffonade basil on top and suddenly you have an elegant meal.”
“Chiffonade?”
She snipped a leaf from a plant with her nails. “It’s when you roll up the leaf and trim it into long thin strips.” Luna brought the leaf to her nose, shutting her eyes while inhaling. “I love it, and it’s also great on pizza. But, going back to my original pizza philosophy, I don’t think there’s anything that can’t work as a pizza topping and fresh basil leaves make everything better.”
She offered the leaf to him, but instead of simply breathing in the scent, he gently took her wrist and brought all of her closer.
“Do you like it?” Luna asked, suddenly finding herself under the intense gaze of those hickory-brown eyes, the same ones drifting across her face as he brought her hand with the basil leaf to his nose. His hand was large and warm, and her heart rate increased erratically.
“Yes,” he said in a low tone.
“Asshole.” The single word was released from her lips on a soft breath.
“What?” He dropped her wrist as if snapping from a spell.
Shit.Was her reminder said aloud? “I didn’t—”
