Chapter Twenty-Eight – Rose
ROSE
A Little One-Upmanship
I squinted at George. “I don’t trust you.”
He wiggled the chilli pepper at me. “Go on, just a little nibble.”
“I dunno.” I took a couple of steps back, just narrowly avoiding Hades. “Is this payback because Hades left a dead rat outside your shed this morning? I told you, he just thinks he’s helping you out being that humans are useless and all that.”
“No, no.” He waved his wrinkly hand. “I appreciate his efforts in the local rodent control. I just want you to try this! It’s my first chilli of the year!”
“I can see that,” I said warily. “Problem is, George, you didn’t label the bloody things. That could be anything from a jalapeno to something that’ll burn my tastebuds right off my tongue.”
“Why do you think I want you to try it instead of me?”
“For God’s sake, Uncle George.” Sabrina, his niece, said, unlatching his gate. “You said you were going to give Rose a break.”
“If only,” I said, waving to her sixteen-year-old daughter, Cara, who returned it with a jiggle of her plastic cup filled with something green. “He can’t even remember what he planted because he threw the packets away!”
“It was the end of them,” he grumbled, wiggling the chilli at me. “Go on, please. You’ll know what it is by taste. You’re a genius.”
“I’m not a chilli tester!” I argued. “Please stop wiggling it around. How did you even grow a chilli to look phallic? Your skills are unmatched.”
“It’s a gift.”
Cara peeked forwards at my words. “Oh, Uncle George, hold it out.”
He did so obediently, and she snapped a picture of it, giggling to herself as she quickly tapped at her phone screen.
It was good to see that some forms of teenage entertainment were timeless.
Then again, if it was only limited to teenagers, we wouldn’t have a whole conversation about his phallic veggies to begin with.
Apparently, penis humour transcended all ages.
“Rose, pleeeeease.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” I stepped forwards and grabbed it out of his hand. I examined it, but I couldn’t tell what it was from looking alone. It was also that time of year that most chillis were ripening, so that didn’t even give me an indication.
If only the old fart had labelled the bloody things.
I squeezed my eyes shut and bit into the end of it before I could change my mind. I chewed it quickly, but not quickly enough.
Heat exploded in my mouth, and I screamed, both spitting out and dropping the chilli.
“Hot! Hot! Hot!” I shouted, jumping on the spot and sticking my tongue out, doing the ha-ha-ha breathing thing as if it would stop my fucking tastebuds from turning in on themselves because holyshitIwasabouttodieIwasgoingtodie.
George’s eyes widened in shock, and I screamed again.
“Milk!” Sabrina said. “Good God, Uncle George! What are you growing in there?”
“If I knew, she wouldn’t have needed to bite into it for me,” he said smartly, shuffling off towards his shed.
“Here.” Cara shoved her weird green drink at me. “Try this.”
I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t care what it was. I just needed this burning to fucking stop before I died.
Because I was dying, there was no doubt about it.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I sucked up her weird green drink. An ice-cold, almost grassy flavour instantly cooled my mouth, and I desperately sucked on the straw like my life depended on it.
Oh.
What was this delightful little treat?
After a few minutes and crunching half the ice left in the bottom of the now-empty plastic cup, I looked in her direction. “What is this ?”
She raised her eyebrows. “An iced matcha latte. You’ve never had one before?”
“No! This is the greatest thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.” And there’d been some questionable things in there. “How do I get this?”
Both mother and daughter burst out laughing. “You’re feeling better, then,” Sabrina said, pulling some tissues out of her bag. “Here, wipe your face.”
“Ugh, thank you.” I almost gave the empty cup back to Cara before I paused and said a quick, “I owe you one of these. The coffee shop on the corner, right?”
She nodded.
“I’ll pay for one next time I’m in there. Actually, I might pay for ten. I might never drink anything else again. Do you think it’s acceptable to put vodka in this?”
“I told you there was a tea out there for you, Rose!” Susan said triumphantly, joining the fray. “You just hadn’t found it yet, and here you are, finding it!”
I looked at the cup, doing my best to ignore the sting in my mouth courtesy of George’s bloody chilli pepper. “This is tea? But she said it was a latte.”
“Matcha is ground green tea,” Sabrina explained. “It’s just called a latte because it’s made a similar way to it—for your coffee-loving heart, it’s mostly milk with a shot of matcha.”
“Oh.” I slurped the icy, milky mix from the bottom of the cup. “Normal milk?”
“I prefer coconut,” Cara answered. “But you can use any one you like, really. Most people use oat, but the coconut adds a bit of sweetness so I don’t need sugar.”
Right.
The kids these days were all about their health.
Ugh.
Was twenty-nine really old enough to be using a phrase like ‘the kids these days?’
Then again, if I ever ended up with a split personality, I was pretty sure my second one would be a ninety-year-old woman with a penchant for yelling at people to get off her lawn, so it wasn’t really that far-fetched.
“Ha, ha.” I stuck my tongue out again as the heat returned. “Is ebber enbing,” I gasped.
“What is going on here?” Susan asked, staring at me. “Put your tongue away, Rose.”
Sabrina quickly explained it, and right as Susan pulled a bottle of water out of her bag, George exploded out of his shed with a lolly stick in his hand.
“Carolina Reaper!” he exclaimed happily. “Found the tag on the floor!”
He couldn’t have done that ten minutes ago?
I gratefully took the uncapped bottle from Susan and glugged the cool water down. That was the last time I ever agreed to be George’s taste tester, that was for sure.
The water and matcha combined did their job, and after a good ten minutes of Susan ranting at George about the importance of keeping his labels in order and him batting his eyelashes flirtatiously at her, my mouth was somewhat back to normal.
“I feel like I walk into chaos every time I come here.”
My head jerked around at the sound of Oliver’s voice. “Then stop coming here,” I said dryly, catching Cara dipping her head as she blushed.
Yeah.
I get you, girl.
Fortunately, I had a reputation to uphold, and that did not involve blushing at handsome men.
It involved getting put into a jail cell for timeout and having one-sided conversations with my chickens.
“Ah, but then I’d get to miss out on your delightful personality, Rose.” Oliver leant against the fence, meeting my eyes with a damningly sexy smile. “And a day without your mild verbal abuse is simply too boring.”
“Your masochistic tendencies are coming out, Your Grace,” I said drolly, capping the water bottle. “You should be careful before you shatter everyone’s holier-than-thou view of you.”
Susan snorted.
Oliver’s smile widened. “Now, don’t be daft. I know nobody here sees me as a saint of any kind.”
“At least you’re self-aware. You need one good quality, I suppose.” I stretched as I got up. “Hey, George? Have you got that chilli you were just asking me about?”
George blinked at me. “Huh?”
“I’d try it for you, but I’ve got a split lip. Just there, look.” I tapped the outer corner of my lower lip. “Why don’t you ask our most noble duke over there to taste test it for you?”
“Oh.” He paused. “Well, if he wouldn’t mind.”
Hey.
Why hadn’t I received such concern from him? He’d practically shoved the thing down my throat!
I glanced at Oliver.
His gaze was firmly fixed on me, and there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. “This feels like a trap.”
“I would never,” I replied, blinking innocently. I offered him my best sweet smile. “I really would do it myself, but with my lip, I just can’t.” I sighed as if it were a true hardship. “Take one for the team, would you?”
He stared at me for a moment, lips curved to one side, gaze uncomfortably intense.
He knew.
I knew he knew.
And he knew that I knew that he knew.
It was a silent battle of wills. Would he give in to my obvious trap? Or would he refuse?
He drew in a deep breath and held out his hand. “Pass one here, George.”
Oh, my God.
I thought he would refuse.
Cara watched with wide eyes as George snipped a chilli from the plant and handed it to Oliver, and I winced as he bit into it with zero hesitation.
Oh.
This man was a fool.
He screwed his face up as the heat hit, and a flicker of guilt rose within me. My mouth was still burning, and I’d had that magical matcha whatsit to cool me down.
His eyes watered, with one tear running down his cheek, and he raised his hand.
“No!” I bolted across my plot to him and grabbed his wrist just before he could touch his face. “Do not touch your eyes, idiot!”
He peeked one eye open. “I was going to wipe my cheek,” he rasped out.
I did it for him, swiping away that tear, and shoved the remaining water in his hand. “Drink that.”
“Open it for me,” he murmured. “My mouth hurts, and it’s your fault.”
I unscrewed the cap and as I gave him the water, whispered, “You knew what I was doing. You’re a fool.”
He chuckled softly. “Only for you.”
I jolted back as if his words had burnt me, and my cheeks were almost warmer than my mouth.
Cara glanced between us before a sly smile appeared on her face. She shot me a covert thumbs up, and I glared at her.
Trust the teenager not to miss a trick.
Oliver smiled as he lifted the bottle to his mouth. He took several gulps, finishing off the water, then wiped his arm across his forehead. “Pretty hot that, George. Carolina Reaper or something like that, right?”
“That’s what the label says.” He held up the lolly stick. “Well, your reaction wasn’t half as amusing as Rose’s,” he grumbled, shoving the stick into the pot.
“Wait. Back up.” I eyed Oliver. “Is your mouth not on fire? How are you not dying right now? It’s been twenty minutes, and my tongue feels like it’s been scraped over hot coals.”
“You’ve got a brain in there, princess. Use it.
” He poked my forehead. “I knew exactly what you were doing—I figured it would be super-hot, but I can handle spicy stuff well, so I thought, why not? Plus, I just really wanted to see this look of frustration on your face right now.” He grabbed my face, squeezing my cheeks together.
“It’s not often I get to one up you, you know. ”
God, he was irritating.
So, could someone tell my heart that? Because that thing was racing like a madman.
I stepped out of his grip, shoving his hands away. “I concede defeat.”
“How very mature of you.”
“Next time, I won’t make the same mistake.” I sniffed, looking away. “I cannot allow this attack on me to go unpunished.”
His lips curved to one side. “I will be shaking in fear until you retaliate.”
“As you should be. Now, why are you here?”
His eyes sparkled. “I’m here to see my favourite person, of course.”
I motioned to Susan. “Susan is over there. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m busy. Flirt with an older woman on your own time.”
“I didn’t know you were older than me.”
I flinched and glared at him. What was he saying so openly? In front of other people?
“Oh, my.” Susan fanned herself, drawing everyone’s attention.
“You’re here to flirt with me, Your Grace?
Well, that’s the best compliment I’ve had in years.
” She looped her arm through his and gave him a subtle tug towards her plot.
“If you’d like to do it properly, how about you take off that shirt of yours and do some hauling about on my plot?
I’ve got some soil bags I need loading into my car, and you look like a strong lad. ”
Oliver was whisked away into next door’s plot before he could say a word. He didn’t seem to resist at all, and a flash of realisation crossed my mind.
Had Susan just… helped me?
If she had, I was in trouble.
Big, big trouble.