Third Time's a Charm (Holland Springs #3)(26)
“My…you—wait, who told you that?” She tilted her head to one side and gripped the glass. Ice melting made it slightly slippery.
She must have imagined the look of panic that registered in his eyes, because in her next heartbeat he was smooth as the body butter she sold in her store. “Jemma Leigh, who else?”
“Oh.” She shifted from one foot then the other while he stared at her, a small smile on his lips. The sun chose that moment to shine directly on his chest, highlighting his nipple rings. Annoyed, she glanced back at the house, spying her sister in the kitchen window with her hand over her mouth. Skye was laughing at her. Laughing and enjoying Rose’s discomfort.
Rose narrowed her eyes. “Stop it.”
The rod holding the curtain fell sideways, obscuring her sister’s view. A large cloud covered the sun. Rose heard a peal of laughter from the house and frowned.
“Was that Skye?” Sasha asked.
She turned back to him and nodded.
“Don’t you need to check on her? It looks like the curtain rod nearly took her head off.” He stared at the window, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to solve a puzzle.
“I have to go.” She made her way to the forcing house(a structure that most people would call a greenhouse), entering through the gate and plucking a sprig of lavender. Once inside, she tucked the lavender in her hair and set the glass down on one of the many wooden tables. Like every Poppy Holland before her, Rose forced fruits, vegetables, flowers and herbs to grow out of season in order to make ‘potions’ and creams.
Familiar scents of rosemary, lemon verbena, and honeysuckle inundated her, settling her nerves. She took a deep breath and began checking the pots of herbs and flowers for insects, mold and dryness. Time seemed to fall away as she got into a groove of removing dead leaves and flower heads. Mentally, she sorted through the plants she needed to make her next batch of shampoo and conditioner: chamomile, aloe, and—?
She glanced around, deciding on peaches. She picked a few and carefully placed them in a nearby basket before making a snack out of one. Snapping off a couple of mint leaves, she popped them in her mouth and picked up an empty watering can. The lemon verbena felt a little dry, and two containers of sage would have to be replaced soon.
“Is this your hiding place?”
Startled, Rose dropped the can. It bounced on the hard-packed earthen floor, a hollow sound echoing as it came to a stop at Sasha’s feet. He held Ivy in his arms. The baby looked content as she snuggled against him.
Rose swallowed and closed the distance between them to pick up the watering can. “I’m not hiding.”
“Meditation room?”
She bit back a smile as she stood. “Did she just wake up?” After setting the can down, she clapped her hands and held them out to Ivy. The baby smiled and leaned forward, arms waving.
“I fed Ivy after my shower, but Skye took care of the whole diaper-changing affair.” Sasha shuddered. “There’s not enough money in the world to make me touch a diaper—at least not without a hazmat suit, and those aren’t flattering for my physique. Or anyone’s, really.”
This time Rose couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not that bad.”
He inclined his head to one side and lifted a brow.
“Okay, sometimes it is.” She dug her toes into the dirt and kissed Ivy’s sweet curls. “Did Skye leave?”
“About fifteen minutes ago.”
“What in the world have you and Ivy been doing?” Rose hoisted Ivy up higher on her hip.
He examined a trellis laden with honeysuckle. “We debated wearing white after Labor Day. I let her win, of course.”
It was easy to be dazzled by him, to be charmed and lulled. What wasn’t easy was seeing who he belonged with. She tried her best to picture the woman who would capture his heart—something that should’ve been as easy as growing dandelions in the front yard. Maybe it only worked on the people in town. People she knew and had grown up with. People whose needs and wants were transparent as soon as they entered her store.
But Sasha…Rose lightly swayed from side to side, gently bouncing Ivy. Sasha was as mysterious as the Pamlico Sound at twilight.
He meandered around the glass-enclosed building, pausing every so often to read labels or sniff at a flower. When he got to the strawberry plants, he turned to her. “These the same ones you set out for me?”
“Yes. “ They were also the ones used to make strawberry wine. A wine thought to be an aphrodisiac, and had been sold as a love potion during the late eighteenth century. A wine that every Poppy Holland shared with her favorite lovers. Her cheeks flushed as their eyes met.
What Sasha wouldn’t give to know what made her blush. “How much time do you spend in here?”
“As much as I can.”
“What’s your favorite flower?” Sasha asked, and she took a step toward the door. Beautiful blue eyes wary as hell. “Don’t leave--I’d like to get to know my landlady a bit better is all. I already know your favorite dessert.”
Wariness gave way to a tentative smile. “Sunflowers. They have lots of uses. You can use the oil from the seeds for cooking, or applying directly to patches of rough skin. Paper can be made from them, even rope from their fibers.” She bit her lip, her gaze darting over his face. “I’m boring you.”