by Karis Walsh
“I’m going to change,” she said. “And then I’m going to take Dante for a walk. Leave my key and don’t contact me again. Good-bye, Evie.”
Paige turned away and walked down the hall toward her bedroom. Their first breakup had been too quiet and noncommittal, but this time the sounds were more pronounced and satisfying. Behind her, she heard the clink of her spare key landing with some force in the bowl on the hall table and the louder crash of the apartment door slamming behind Evie. Then the welcome sound of Dante’s nails on the hardwood floor as he trotted to her side.
Chapter Ten
Kassidy pushed damp, loose soil around the roots of the young plant and pressed gently, securing the lavender in position without overtamping the ground. She put her hands on her lower back and arched against them, trying to ease the muscle twinges she was feeling after hours of kneeling. Her lower legs were plastered with mud, and the morning’s perpetual drizzle had slowly soaked her hair and shoulders. She had gotten the rest of her cuttings into the ground, though, and her appearance was a small price to pay for the day’s work.
She stacked the final plastic pot along with the others and groaned as she started to get up. She almost fell back in the mud when a hand appeared in front of her face.
“At least you don’t have to water them, with this weather,” Paige said. She motioned with her hand, and Kassidy took hold of it and was pulled to her feet.
“Thank you,” she said, wiping her hands on her thighs, although all she did was smear the mud on her palms and legs. There wasn’t a clean spot on her to use as a makeshift towel.
“You did all this today?” Paige asked, looking at the two long rows of freshly planted lavender. “You must be sore.”
“A little,” Kassidy said, stiffly bending over to pick up a bucket of gardening tools and the pots, letting the pain of movement wipe away the big goofy grin she could feel spreading over her face at Paige’s arrival. Aching muscles were easier to handle than the realization that she had missed Paige this week more than was comfortable. “I didn’t expect to see you until this afternoon or tomorrow. Where’s Dante?”
“He’s in the car.” Paige took the bucket from Kassidy. “I couldn’t let him see you like this, or he’d try to mimic your style. What did you do, roll on the ground to smooth it out before planting?”
“Very funny. It’s hard to stay clean when you’re transferring plants from pots to the ground.” Plus, she had fallen a couple times, tripping over the trowel she kept forgetting to move. She decided not to share that part of her day with Paige.
“I had some free days this week, so we drove here last night.” Paige followed her into the greenhouse and put the bucket against the wall. Kassidy felt a sting of disappointment that Paige hadn’t called her last night to tell her she was back from the city, but the feeling disappeared when she turned away from putting the pots on a bench and got a good look at Paige’s face. She was missing her usual smile, or even the hint of one about to emerge, and her skin was pale.
“Are you all right?”
Paige shrugged. “Sure. I had a migraine Thursday, and the effects linger for a few days, but I feel much better. I just needed some country air and some good company.”
Kassidy grinned and jostled Paige gently as they walked back to her car. Paige opened the door for Dante, keeping hold of his collar as she led him into the house.
“I thought we could get an early start on the weekend, if you’re up for it,” Paige continued, letting Dante go once he was safely shut away from the muddy outdoors. He trotted over to the chair where Kipper was sleeping and tried to climb on the seat with the cat. Kipper jumped onto the back of the chair, apparently not in the mood for cuddling. “I wanted to be here for the street fair, and I thought it would be a great time for us to try out some of my ideas.”
“Sounds good,” Kassidy said. She was excited to show Paige her new labels, especially since a few of her customers were already using them this weekend. She pictured herself and Paige leaning close together at the computer, choosing fonts and colors for advertising the farm. Strolling through McMinnville’s spring festival, bumping shoulders and brushing fingers as they walked side by side. Laughing and joking as they worked on Kassidy’s website.
She put her anticipation aside for the moment and went over to the cabinet to get an eye mask. She put a few drops of essential oil on it and shook the mask to distribute the oil on the beads inside.
“Sit,” she commanded, gesturing toward the couch. Paige sank wearily into the cushions and leaned her head against the backrest. Kassidy put the weighted mask over Paige’s eyes.
“Relax while I take a shower,” she said. Paige made a sort of moaning sound, and Kassidy assumed it was a murmur of agreement because she didn’t move a muscle.
Kassidy went into her bedroom and stripped out of her dirty clothes, tossing them directly into the washer and getting in the shower. She leaned one hand against the wall and let a scalding stream of water massage the tension out of her shoulders and neck. She had to smile, thinking how such a basic act as showering—one she did every day—offered completely different sensations when her body was aware of Paige merely a room away. Shampoo slick through her fingers, lavender-scented suds sliding over her breasts and dripping onto the floor, warm water sheeting over her body and chasing away the chill from the misty morning…she turned the hot water off completely, but the shock of cold only intensified her feelings, leaving her nipples hard and her skin tingling.
She dried herself off quickly, no lingering, and dressed in a bulky sweatshirt and loose jeans, as if the baggy clothes could hide her body’s response to Paige’s nearness. She had to get hold of her rampant imagination if she and Paige were going to be working together all weekend. She’d showered with women in the house before, so this shouldn’t be any different.
She looked at herself in the mirror, unable to lie to herself so easily. She’d had women in the shower with her who hadn’t made her nerve endings come alive the way Paige had, when she wasn’t even in the same room. Kassidy toweled some of the excess moisture out of her hair and ran her fingers through the long side, leaving it to dry in waves instead of taking time to style it.
She went back into the living room and paused in the doorway. Paige hadn’t changed positions, and Kassidy could see her chest rising in slow, deep breaths as if she was asleep. Dante had moved to the couch and was lying with his head in Paige’s lap. He raised his head with a soft woof when he noticed Kassidy, and Paige sat upright, dropping the mask.
“Hi. Oh, you’re clean. I might have dozed off a little.” Paige looked flustered, bending forward to put the mask on the table and tugging on her shirt when it rode slightly up her back. “That mask is wonderful. Very soothing.”
Kassidy pulled her focus off the bare hip bone Paige had revealed when she moved. “It’s good for headaches. I have a couple, so please take it with you, and I’ll give you some lavender oil, too. You’ll only need a few drops at a time. Are you hungry?”
Paige hesitated, seeming to consider the question. “Yes, I think I am,” she said, sounding surprised at her own admission. “I lost my appetite for a while, but I guess the nap brought it back.”
“Come in the kitchen then. I have some scones leftover from breakfast. I’ll tell you the story of my trespassers while we eat.”
“Trespassers? That explains the barricade across your driveway. No one dangerous, I hope, because those plastic cones are easy to move.”
“Not dangerous. Just intrusive.” Kassidy heated water for tea, then put scones, butter, and a jar of her marionberry, lemon balm, and lavender jam on the table while she told the tale of the Wilsons. She was glad to see Paige’s laughter return, especially when Kassidy described the horrifying moment when the Wilsons threatened to swarm into her house and use her bathroom, and the last-minute salvation provided by the garden shed.
Paige managed to eat two scones even though she obviously was amused by Kassidy’s recountin
g of the visit and several times had to wait until she finished laughing before eating more.
“That is hilarious,” she said, licking some jam off her thumb. She shook her head and her laughter devolved into a guilty-looking smile. “You are so going to hate me.”
Kassidy was watching Paige’s tongue and the jam, and hate was about the furthest emotion from her mind. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Well, I could tell you were a private person and didn’t open the farm like most other businesses do around here, but I didn’t realize how determined you were to keep it that way.” Paige picked up another scone and covered it with jam. “This stuff is amazing. It’s sort of citrusy and sweet, but not too sweet. Did you can it yourself?”
Kassidy frowned, put on alert more by Paige’s attempt to distract her than she had been by the You’re going to hate me statement. “I suppose you were going to suggest I let every group of Wilsons in the country come tromp around my farm?”
“Yes. But we can come back to that idea later.” Paige waved her hand dismissively. “Right now, we need to concentrate on getting ready for tomorrow’s fair.”
Kassidy hesitated, feeling like a dog chasing two bunnies that had just run in opposite directions. Did she follow Paige’s admission that she wanted tourists coming to Kassidy’s farm or stick with chasing down whatever Paige had planned for the fair? She’d follow the festival bunny for now, because it was closer in time, but she sure as hell wasn’t forgetting about the other one. Out of sight was not out of mind. “Get ready, how? I’ve already talked to my buyers about labeling lavender products with the farm’s name, like you told me to. Other than that, I need to put a sweater on in case it’s chilly, and then I’m good to go.”
Paige scooted her chair closer to the window until the length of the table was between them. “We need to make sure you have enough crafts to sell at your booth.”
“My booth. What do you mean, my booth?” Her voice had somehow risen an octave. She hadn’t realized she had such range.
“Kassidy, calm down…” Kassidy glared at her, and Paige continued. “Okay, don’t calm down. Freak out if you’d rather. But either way, there’s going to be a booth with the farm’s name on it at the festival. It won’t look good if it’s empty.”
Paige watched as Kassidy rubbed her hand through her hair, entranced by the silky way it feathered back into place. She needed to keep her attention on the discussion they were having, not on Kassidy’s hair, or the pinkness of her skin when she had come out of her bedroom still flushed from her shower. Where she had been naked. Paige bit the inside of her lip hard enough to make her wandering imagination behave, at least until she was back in her hotel room.
Paige didn’t need more than their brief acquaintance to understand how little Kassidy liked change, but until her story about the Wilsons, Paige hadn’t fully comprehended how determined Kassidy was to protect her personal space. Paige was going to need all her powers of persuasion to get Kassidy to accept her full business plan, which was going to include a great deal of people like the Wilsons touching her lavender and using her bathroom. She waited patiently, giving Kassidy time to formulate questions and excuses. Paige would counter them all. She was accustomed to reluctant clients arguing against what she wanted them to do, and she wasn’t afraid to fight Kassidy over this. Well, maybe a little afraid. She would feel better if Kassidy put down the butter knife she was holding, although she probably couldn’t do too much damage with it.
“What did you expect me to put in this booth? And why are you laughing?”
Paige tried to scrunch her features into a frown matching Kassidy’s, but the effort only made her laugh harder. She pointed at Kassidy’s hand. “You look ready to stab me, but it’s all so civilized with a spot of tea and some scones at the murder scene.”
Kassidy put down the knife with a deliberate motion. “There. Feel safer now?”
“Not enough to turn my back on you.”
“I’m waiting,” Kassidy said. “Tell me about this booth.” She was still scowling, but Paige thought she looked like she was trying too hard to keep her stern expression in place. Good. A return of Kassidy’s sense of humor, no matter how reluctant, was a good sign.
“Well, I was originally thinking we could spend the afternoon today making crafts to sell. Even if we only have enough to make it through a couple hours of sales, you’ll get some exposure. But your story about the Wilsons gave me a better idea.”
Kassidy’s heavy sigh implied she doubted it would be a better idea, no matter what it was.
“What if we make craft kits, instead of fully assembling them? Then people can come to the booth and we can help them make whatever they choose. Things you make on your own seem more meaningful than something you just buy, don’t you think?”
“I guess,” Kassidy said. “The Wilsons calmed down quite a bit when I put them to work. And the kids got less annoying.”
“That’s the customer service spirit I was looking for. Sort of.” Paige ate the last bite of her third scone and got up, helping Kassidy clear the table. “We can talk later about how not to make your customers sound like misbehaving livestock.”
“One step at a time.” Kassidy quickly rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “First, we need to get these kits started. And we’ll need signs, and maybe instruction sheets in case someone wants to assemble the craft later, on their own. Oh, and I have some purple bags I use for giving gifts from the farm. We can put the kits in them, and then they’ll be useful for transporting the finished crafts.”
Kassidy left the kitchen, muttering to herself about extra ribbons, and Paige finished putting away the leftover food and wiping off the table. Her face was relaxed in a smile, and the last remnants of her migraine seemed to have been chased away. She felt relieved because even though Kassidy wasn’t fully embracing this attempt to get publicity for her farm, she had moved from refusing to go to actively participating in the planning process. Paige wasn’t ashamed to use Kassidy’s pride in her farm to her advantage. Kassidy would do whatever it took to showcase her lavender well, so it didn’t matter if she was internally calling Paige rude names the entire time.
Paige sighed and massaged her temples, relieved to have a respite from the pain that had plagued her since her run-ins with Kenneth and Evie. She had to admit the real reason she felt better was because of Kassidy herself, not just her acceptance of this business venture or some drops of essential oil. Even when blindsided by unexpected news, as Paige had done to her today, she was still able to see the humor in situations and was quick to adapt to new ideas as long as she was allowed to take her time processing them. And she was sexy, especially when wearing mud-covered jeans and a wet T-shirt that clung to every inch of her body. Paige had come here with lingering tension and achiness, but one look at Kassidy on her knees in the lavender field, arching her back as she stretched, had been enough to erase Paige’s horrible week from her mind.
“Let’s go, let’s go,” Kassidy said, coming through the swinging door with Dante at her heels. She sounded impatient, as if the booth was her idea and Paige was the one arguing against it. She was carrying a large cardboard box, and Paige took it from her, peering inside.
“You’re bringing your laptop?”
“Yes. We can make instruction sheets while we assemble everything. Since you haven’t done any of them before, we’ll use you to make sure the directions are easy enough for a child or a beginner to follow.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Kassidy said absently, digging through a drawer and adding some scissors to the box.
Paige listened to Kassidy list craft options as they walked to the drying shed. She was familiar with this stage of her job, and she loved it as much as it always saddened her. When business owners and managers first got her input, they often resisted, preferring stability over change and the familiar over the untested. But as they started to mentally weave her ideas into the passion they felt for
their work, those ideas were no longer Paige’s. They belonged to the people who would see them through, incorporating them into their companies. Paige still had plenty of suggestions that Kassidy would fight her over, but right now, with this project, ownership had abruptly shifted to Kassidy.
Paige set the box on one of the benches and perched on a tall stool, fiddling with the bunch of lavender Kassidy put in front of her.
“You’re going to make this first. It’s a lavender wand,” Kassidy said, holding up a thick stem made of lavender stalks with a ribbon covered end. She opened her laptop and started typing.
“A wand? Like Harry Potter?” Paige had seen the beribboned thing during her tour but had no clue what it was for at the time. She waved it in Kassidy’s direction. “Clothingus Disappearus. Hey, mine doesn’t work.”
Kassidy laughed. “I thought we decided to remain fully clothed during the consultation period.”
“You decided that. At least until I either write a clothing optional clause into my proposal, or I get a more effective wand.” She waved it again, but all it did was make Kassidy roll her eyes and sigh.
“Not a wand like Harry Potter,” Kassidy said, taking it from her and handing her some loose pieces of lavender plants. “A wand, like something that smells good and you stick it in a drawer with your clothes. Now, I’m just going to tell you what to do without helping, so we’ll be sure the instructions will work. First, gather the stems close together. No, make them even. That’s right, and now tie a piece of ribbon in a knot to hold them in place.”
Paige had only vague memories of doing arts and crafts while at Girl Scout camp, and she stumbled through the project while Kassidy deleted and retyped instructions until they made sense even to Paige. Eventually, Kassidy was laughing so hard she was barely able to tell Paige what she was doing wrong, let alone explain how to do it right.
