He scoops up a generous handful of lettuce and drops it on the plate. “I want to fill you up, so I’m going to spread it wide.”
“Yes, wide is good. I need a lot of salad to satisfy me.” His fingers pause their foreplay in the greens. “I mean…yeah, looks good.”
While I try to calm my erratic heartbeat, he swiftly slices the tomato and a few kalamata olives, crumbles some feta. When he gets to the cucumber, it’s impossible to even breathe. “Here.” He holds it out. “Feel this.”
“Um, okay.” I take the cucumber from him and hold it in my palm.
“How would you describe it?”
“It’s hard and long…” I slide my hand down the green length. “Thick.”
He snatches it from me and blows out a breath. “It’s got nothing on mine.”
I need Tattoo Jesus. It’s like sex the way he carries on describing the amazing salad he’s going to make when the garden is ready. Because he was definitely talking about our home-grown cucumber and not the one in his pants. Right? He uses words like sweet, spicy, tantalizing, and a myriad of others that have me clenching my thighs in anticipation of what he’s going to say next. And when I nearly have a mini-orgasm, he finishes me off with a douse of homemade vinaigrette, splashed over everything.
“And that’s how you make a salad.”
I’ll say. Hope it was as good for him as it was for me.
I polish it off in record time, and as I’m debating whether or not to lick the plate, he asks if I want to help find homes for our gnomes. And even though I do not have time to frolic in the Garden of Sin with the gigantic amount of mugs I have to glaze this weekend, I cannot say no to gnomes.
I’m pulling on my gardening boots (I have gardening boots now, so legit) when the doorbell rings. Without peeping to see who is on the other side, I swing the door open to find Lucy with a hand resting on her shapely hip.
“Hi,” I say, and immediately realize that I have been lying to myself.
The knotted-stomach feeling I get when I see Lucy’s hair shining in the midday sun is upsetting. I’ve told myself I’ve moved on from Austin so often I had started to believe it. I just miss Logan, I told myself. I’m just being a good friend, I said. But the jealousy turning me pea green says otherwise.
“Hey, Chloe. Is Austin here?”
Just as I’m getting ready to invite her inside, Austin says from behind me, “Oh, hi. You don’t have to come in. I put the stuff you asked for in a box already.”
He hands her a small brown box. Lucy looks just as surprised as I feel.
“Just as well, I have a date to get ready for,” she says.
I grip the doorknob, bracing for Austin’s jealousy. “Cool,” he says, with no emotion. “You already look perfect.”
She blinks at his dismissal as Austin moves past her onto the porch and sits in the swing to tug on his gardening boots.
Lucy smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Okay, talk later. Bye, Chloe.”
“Bye,” I say as she leaves without a glance backward.
When her car is out of the driveway, Austin grabs the bucket we keep the hoes in. “Ready?”
“Um, yeah.”
I search his face for any sign he’s masquerading and putting on a show to hide regrets behind his handsome face, but there’s nothing to suggest he’s hiding any second thoughts about breaking up with Lucy.
“Let’s do it.”
I ignore my dirty mind, and we head to the backyard, to put our ornamental hermits into their private oasis. While we test out different groupings around the beds, I tell him about the interview I’m going to have for the curator job.
“Seriously? That’s amazing.”
“I’m just nervous.” I pull a little weed from near the tomato stakes. “It’s been ages since I’ve interviewed. And never for something this important. You know this was always my dream.”
“You got this. I’ll help you practice.”
“Okay, but really stick it to me.”
“I’d love to.” He’s arranged the gnome triad near the lattice his highly anticipated cucumbers will climb. Backs together, so they cannot be surprised by any hungry rabbits. They’ll see everything coming. Smart. He stands from his stooped position and pulls me up. “Thank you for coming in today.”
“My pleasure.”
“So, tell me what your five-year plan is.”
“Oh, well, first let me just say I love your office.”
He grins. “Thanks, my lovely assistant helped me decorate.”
“I’m sure she’s amazing.”
“Let me tell you a secret about her.” He leans closer, and my heart races. “She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
“I’m sure you’re an amazing boss.”
He steps closer, too close for comfort. But I don’t move away. “I’ll have to ask her if she thinks I’m amazing. What do you think she’d say?”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and trails a finger around the shell. “She’d probably say if this is how you interview, you might find yourself in the human resources office.”
We both laugh and then it dies in the warm breeze. And then suddenly we’re kissing.
I didn’t see that coming.
With one hand cradling my face, the other on my ass pulling me in closer, he sprinkles soft kisses on my mouth and then tugs my bottom lip.
“I’ve been dying to kiss you again,” he rasps.
“Austin,” I whisper, as the hand on my back slides up my back, into my hair.
The gentle kisses slowly grow more urgent, and on a groan, he slides his tongue into my mouth. I’m melting, clinging to him, returning his kiss with desperation. It feels like I’m in the middle of a rainstorm, drowning.
His body melds to mine, and he holds on to me like I’ll disappear if he lets go. It’s a serious kiss, a needy kiss, a kiss that makes every fine hair on my body stand on end, and goes on for a while, but not long enough, before I remember I might actually be cheating.
And also, why is Austin making out with me? And now that I think about the way he’s been acting around me lately, like that dinner he made for just the two of us a couple of nights ago, with wine and candles…
“Are you dating me?” I pull away and ask.
He drops his forehead to mine, breathing heavy. “I’m trying to.”
“Do you…like-like me?”
“That’s kind of what kissing means.” He leans in to kiss me again.
I back up. “We kissed before and it didn’t mean that.”
“It did. But we weren’t ready.”
I need a thesaurus because all I can think is wow. Oh, wow. Wow.
“...Did you break up with Lucy because of…?” I can’t even be presumptuous enough to finish the sentence.
He nods. “Lucy and I hadn’t been working for a long time. It became more obvious that it wasn’t going to get better when I realized I was having feelings for someone else.”
“By someone else you mean...me?” I need this to be real clear.
He makes it crystal clear. “Yes, Chloe. I mean you. I thought maybe…am I wrong? Am I too late?”