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He merely pulled the hand brake and pitched forth an oblivious smile. “Should I give you a little help getting out?”
She drew out a sidelong scowl and swatted a hand to say she could manage on her own. Meanwhile, the ever-uninhibited Aggie McKey sidled up to his window. “Good to see you made it here without drawing each other’s blood.”
He pushed his door open, and the old woman drew closer, planting a kiss on his cheek the moment his feet touched ground, before making a point of tweaking his nose. Something she’d done since he was a little boy.
He grumbled, still undecided as to whether he appreciated the nose tweaking or not. “Thanks for your help today.”
Emilia squeezed in next to him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist.
Aggie winked, her upturned face revealing a distinct sparkle to her faded seafoam-colored eyes. “Just make sure I get a front-row seat at the wedding, okay?”
Emilia jolted in his hold. He pressed a knuckle to his lips, holding back a laugh.
Aggie pulled a set of keys from her pocket. “I’ve done everything on your list, Mister, so I will let you two get reacquainted.” She dropped the keys into his hand, already trudging toward her own truck. “Just remember, no fightin’, ya? Dontcha make me drive all the way back here to turn the sprinklers on yous two.”
She winked again, her low-level chuckle accompanying her exit.
Emilia peered up at him, her eyes wide and expectant. “This is Aggie’s place?”
He took her hand, guiding her along a small path leading to the field’s gated entrance. “The McKeys have run this land for five generations. These days, Aggie’s grandkids manage this place, and she runs the nursery. Though, as you can see, Aggie can still pull some strings from time to time.”
“Lucky for us.” To his joy, she closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath, the field’s aroma unmissable either way. “This place is beautiful. Thank you for organizing this.”
He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her neck, right where she tended to place her perfume. “I’ve taken a recent liking to lavender.”
She turned her gorgeous smile toward him, her thick black lashes fluttering and making his heart thud. “You planned all this based on my perfume?”
He tried not to smirk, the sky having changed to a radiant flamingo pink, the color mixing with the lavender behind her like some kind of pastel aura.
“It’s just one detail in a long list of things I like about you. Come on.” He pulled her along again, deciding that dealing with Aggie’s childlike tendencies had been worth Emilia’s awestruck reaction. “There’s more to this date than flowers.”
That much was true. He wanted to do more than flatter her with observations on her perfume; he wanted to give her a whole host of reasons to love Harlow. A host of reasons to stay.
They strolled through the lavender rows, the heady sweet scent dancing around them, her knee-length dress swaying in the breeze over her nimble steps, her delicate fingers extended atop the bobbing flower heads.
Potent pride warmed his blood. She seemed happy. All he’d ever wanted was to see Emilia happy, so much of their relationship marred with uncontrollable interference and heartache. For this brief moment, it was just them. He could finally take credit for a few of her smiles.
She spun around, her warm-chocolate eyes glittering as she pointed down the row. “What’s that?”
He raised his chin, prompting her to keep walking. “I told you there was more to this date.”
She stopped, despite his command, and bounced on her heels where she stood. “Is that a table? We’re having dinner right here in the field?” She beamed at him. “Mr. Callaghan, I had no idea you had it in you…”
She laughed and pranced away, looking over her shoulder as she did so, the overjoyed light in her eyes making his heart squeeze once more. Since when did Emilia Bonacci prance?
“I’ll to need you to define what ‘it’ is exactly.” He strode after her, taking his time, savoring this moment, folding her ease and adoration up and locking it away safe in his memory.
“Romance, Blaine. I never took you as a romantic.” She’d stopped at the table, the surface covered with a white linen table cloth.
He hid his smile a little. There was probably a lot about him she didn’t know, sentimentality and preferences on romance included. The whole point of this date was to get reacquainted. If he were truly lucky, there’d be many more dates, and an entire lifetime to “learn” each other throughout their many seasons.
She took his hand, pulled him into her, and stood on her toes. “It’s been a long time since someone did anything this thoughtful for me.”
Though her ensuing kiss caught him off guard, her words had the deepest impact; ones that introduced yet more pain to his heart, even as her lips held his. He imagined her alone, or worse, with someone who hadn’t looked out for her, and the thought alone tortured him.
He pulled back, looking over her anew, reminded just how much about this woman remained a mystery. What had the last decade entailed for her?
She slipped back and took a seat; he followed and forced himself to find something meaningful to say. Like how much his minimal effort today was the bare bones of what she deserved…
