Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ASIM ARRIVES THE next day wearing a similar outfit of tight shirt and worn jeans, but to Everly’s disappointment, no leather jacket. He’s driving the same white delivery truck he used the first time they met, Magnolia Nursery painted in bold dark green on the side. He pulls around the circle of her driveway, then reverses so the back faces the lawn along the side of the house. After hopping down from the front, he walks around to the back and unlatches it, then nearly gives Everly a heart attack with the gun show he unknowingly puts on as he heaves the rolling door up. He pauses, arm stretched above him, and glances at the porch where she was waiting for him last time, but Everly is still inside watching from the kitchen window today. If she had pearls, she’d be clutching them. She didn’t anticipate watching him like a sneak, she just didn’t want to come off as too eager. Plus, she wanted to see what he would do if she wasn’t outside waiting for him.
Asim doesn’t disappoint. Instead of getting right to work as she half expects him to do, he strides across the driveway, skips a step up the porch, and is knocking at her front door before she can suck in a second breath.
Everly smiles with a swoop in her belly before she even has the door open, and as soon as it is, his eyes are perusing her up and down, getting stuck on her fuzzy socks again. Today they’re sage green with big white daisies. She thought they were perfect for a day of gardening, and if the corner of hismouth tilting up is anything to go by, he seems to think so too .
“Cute socks," he says, glancing back up and turning the full force of his smile on her.
“Thanks.” She wiggles her toes so the daisies dance, then steps aside for him to enter. “I made lemonade, iced tea, and horchata. I don’t know what you like, but I figured the least I could do was have some better cold drinks available than just water.”
“I love water," Asim says, hand to his chest, pretending to be offended for a second. Then he squeezes her upper arm before dropping his hand to his side, leaving a scorch mark on her skin and a dreamy look on her face.
Smiling as he turns and walks next to her into the kitchen, he says, “but I love all of those too. I’ll start with an Arnold Palmer, if you don’t mind mixing some lemonade and iced tea for me.”
Everly grins, loving that he’s comfortable enough to ask for what he really wants and giddy to have him back in her house and at her fingertips. She’s itching to touch him, but she isn’t as naturally tactile as he appears to be. She was lost in thoughts of him last night after Frankie left, and she refuses to let that happen while he is right here in front of her.
“One Arnold Palmer," she says, handing him a glass and pouring some horchata over ice for herself. She’s more prepared today in other ways too, now that she knows what to expect, with her hair already braided back from her face, dirty shoes ready by the backdoor, and wearing workout clothes. Everly also did some online shopping last night, and is unreasonably excited for her new gardening outfits to arrive in a few days. She can’t wait to see what he thinks.
They walk through the house to the patio double doors, and Asim pulls something out of his back pocket. She expects it to be another rag that he always seems to have on hand for cleaning up, but she catches a flash of green.
“I brought you some gloves,” he says, holding one glove open for her to slide her right hand in. “I noticed you didn’t have any yesterday. These shouldn’t be too hot; this brand is breathable but will also protect you. Just throw them in the wash with your clothes when needed and they’ll be good as new.” The fit is snug, but the material is thin and light enough that it doesn’t bother her. As he helps her fit her left hand into the other one, she curls her fingers and then stretches them wide, wiggling her fingers inside the rubbery material.
“Thank you!” she says. “These are awesome, and they’re my favorite color.” They’re a soft sage green, with cream colored grippy padding on the fingers and palm. She’s also obsessed with the idea that he was thinking of her.
“You’ve worn that color a couple times now, so I figured it was a safe bet.” He gives the socks poking out of her shoes a pointed look, and she bites her lip with a pleased half-giggle.
“True. I do wear a lot of light green.” Everly likes how it compliments her creamy skin tone and dark hair, but these gloves have just taken the top spot of her favorite wardrobe items. Well, maybe second spot; her classic red heels are pretty much impossible to beat. She’s a little flustered to learn he’s observed her so closely, but then realizes she’s watched him pretty closely too. Everly decides not to get in her head about it, and drops her hands down to her sides, rubbing the pads of her gloved fingers together. She might be able to manage her thoughts better today, as she already feels infinitely more comfortable around him, but the fidgeting is more difficult to stop.
“Where do we start today?” she asks.
Asim walks toward the wheelbarrow. “I’ll need to do a couple trips with this—load the grass up in the truck and bring the topsoil and compost back here, we’ll also need to finish pulling up the grass on the lower terrace.”
That doesn’t leave much for Everly to do, but she doesn’t want to do nothing, so after he loads up the wheelbarrow, she heaves one of the slabs of grass into her arms and trudges along behind him. Asim doesn’t notice until they make it around the side of the house to the truck.
“Everly!” He quickly grabs it from her, and she brushes her shirt off, doing her best not to look like she’s already breathing hard. “We have a wheelbarrow for a reason, you know. ”
He shakes his head and his words are a bit snappy, but he’s smiling at her, so she calls that a win and does her best not to let it ruffle her mood.
“I want to help," she replies, tipping her chin up. He apparently gets the message that she won’t be dissuaded, so he tosses the grass into the truck and begins the process of switching out the wheelbarrow’s contents without further admonishment. They’re not talking, but it isn’t uncomfortable like she expects it to be. It helps that after an exasperated sigh, he keeps throwing fond glances her way with that tilted smile on his lips.
Back on the terrace, Asim switches out the bags of compost for grass again, and suggests she start digging if she wants to help. She tilts her head as she looks up at him, eyebrows raised and side-eyeing the shovel on the ground.
Asim chuckles and picks it up, handing it to her. “It’s not as hard as it looks," he says, “Make sure to use your back muscles, not just your arms, and I’ll take over when I’m done with the last load.” With that, he hefts the handles of the wheelbarrow like it weighs nothing and strolls across the lawn again, pushing it along in front of him as he goes.
Everly looks at the shovel in her hands, then shrugs and turns to the patch of dirt they laid bare yesterday. She remembers where a couple of the plants are supposed to go, so she picks one and decides to get started. Raising the shovel in both hands, she half heartedly drops it down into the dirt. Understandably, this doesn’t do much. Everly wrinkles her nose and flings the minuscule bit she scooped up to the side, then pinches her lips together and puts more effort into it the second time.
She’s surprised to see she’s making some progress by the time Asim comes around the corner again, but unsurprised by the fact that she’s panting like a dog and already dripping with sweat. Asim, on the other hand, looks like he hasn’t even begun working yet.
“Hey, that’s a good start," he comments on the dent she’s made in the earth while dropping some bags of compost along the edge of the patio. He rips open the one nearest her, then holds his hand out for the shovel. “ I’ll trade you.”
She gladly hands it over, then flops down on the edge of the stone wall and leans back on her hands, content to watch him work for a minute. Apparently, digging isn’t as easy as he made it out to be, as he is soon sweating and breathing a little harder too, although he also has a decent sized hole to show for his efforts.
Asim pauses and walks over to the plants waiting on the patio. “This one was going to go there?” he asks, pointing to a fluffy grassy plant. It looks soft and breezy, like it’s asking for her to run her fingers through it.
“I think so," she replies, side eyeing the wispy leaves.
With a shrug, she gives in to temptation and pulls a glove off, then slides her hand through the long leaves and seed fronds. They tickle against her palm.
Asim picks it up by the lip of the plastic pot as she pulls away.
“Deergrass,” he says, “great for stabilizing the soil, and interestingly, ladybugs love to spend the winter hibernating in it. You’ll probably see some birds snacking on the seeds when spring hits too.”
Everly’s eyes are fixed on him and she has to remind herself to blink. Asim has her rapt attention and doesn’t even notice as he casually spouts off information while plucking a few dead leaves out of the grassy clump. He handles the Deergrass with intuitive care and tenderness, to the point that Everly thinks she might be a tad envious of a freaking plant.
Asim draws her attention back to the space between them as he shows her a trick to ensure the readied space is big enough. He sets the entire potted plant into the hole he prepared, then points out how it should be at least half again as wide as the pot it currently grows in. He scrapes some more dirt from the sides of the hole, then pulls the bundle of roots out of the plastic and sets it gently into the center. Asim encourages her to alternate filling in the hole around it with handfuls of compost and the dirt from the pile he made earlier. They fill it back in, mixing it all together and tamping it down with their hands as they go before moving on to the next one.
Working side by side, they get a couple more planted before Asim pauses. He stands and looks between the plants still sitting on the patio and the terracing in front of him.
“I think we might need to reorganize a bit," he says.
“What do you mean? I like the design we made yesterday.” Everly frowns, her eyebrows scrunching as she tries to see whatever flaw he’s noticed.
“It’s just that everything we picked out is all about the same height and size. I’m wondering if you might want a little more variety. Maybe something taller or more dramatic in the corner there.” He points to the far corner of the patio where it meets the edge of the dirt section they’ve prepared. “It would give the space a little more depth and visual appeal, I think.”
“Oh, yeah that sounds nice.” Everly sweeps her gaze across the plants they selected, realizing he’s right. They’re all between one to two feet tall. “Maybe a tree in the corner there, and some sort of wider bush down below on the second level?”
“Now you’re talking, you’ve got a good head for design.” Asim smiles at her. “I have a few ideas for you. Why don’t you swing by the greenhouse this week and we can pick out a couple things.”
“I’d love that. Thank you so much for your help. Again," Everly says.
“You don’t have to keep thanking me, I’m happy to be here, Ever.” Asim calls her a nickname she’s never heard before, but she loves it coming from him, especially with the way that accent makes it sound like a sultry purr. She likes everything that comes from his lips, honestly.
The blush creeping over her cheeks is mirrored in the soft tilt of his eyes as he smiles down at her, and Everly doesn’t think she’s mistaking the heat or hunger in his gaze when she catches him looking over at her throughout the day as they continue working. They get a couple more plants in the ground and Asim finishes tearing out the rest of the grass before calling it a day.
“Are you available Wednesday?” Asim asks, dusting off his hands on his jeans as he straightens and plants the tip of the shovel into the soil next to him. “If you want to come after close, I won’t have to worry about other responsibilities when you’re there and we can shop in peace.”
“Yeah, sounds good. Wednesday is great.” Everly, trying and failing to keep the grin from taking over her face, is inordinately pleased that he wants more alone time with her.
As she walks him to his truck, she does her best to quell the fluttery feeling in her chest. Asim closes up the back, wipes off his hands and face, then walks back over to where she’s standing off to the side.
“This may sound weird, but I had a lot of fun with you yesterday and today. I like sharing my joy of plants with others, so thank you," Asim says, piercing her with those green eyes and scattering sparks along her skin.
Everly huffs a laugh, hoping he can’t tell how hot she is, and not just from the hard work they’ve done.
“I can’t believe you just thanked me for putting you to work.”
She makes light of it, but Everly gets the sense he doesn’t do much for fun, and the hint of surprise in his voice indicates he isn’t used to it. She likes to think she played a part in bringing more joy to his life, and she determines to make more of an effort to do so in the future as well.
Asim chuckles with her. “I like working hard, and it’s worth it to spend time with you.”
He tucks a lock of hair back into her french braid, then trails the backs of his knuckles gently down the side of her face, along her jaw and down the line of her throat. She’s certain he can feel her pulse pounding out of her skin under his fingers. His face has gone soft, and he’s smiling down at her. Everly’s mind is screaming, begging for him to kiss her, touch her, do anything to follow up that sweet gesture that burned her to her core.
Asim almost gives her what she wants; leaning down, he brushes a gentle kiss over her cheekbone, and she feels his breath on her ear as he slowly straightens and drops his hand back to his side. All she can do is blink up at him for a moment. Her mind is blank, she’s forgotten how to function.
“Breathe,” he whispers, a sweet smile on his lips. She wants to feel those lips again, and she wants them on hers this time .
It takes her another precious few heartbeats to process what he just said, and then her body catches up with her lack of oxygen, agreeing with his instruction. Everly inhales a small gasp, sucking in air as a blush scorches her cheeks.
Asim’s lips quirk into that boyish grin and he reaches out again to gently squeeze her arm. She’s starting to find that gesture endearingly comforting. Asim turns back to his truck, hopping up into the seat and pulling the door closed. He rolls down the window as he starts it up and pops his head out, forearm propped on the edge of the open window. He thumps his fist twice on the outside of the door before saying “see you Wednesday, Miss Moore,” and driving off.