In the Weeds (Lovelight #2)(39)

I point out into the distance. “Off you go.”

He gives me a petulant look. “I see how it is. Put the woman and the minor to work while you kick back. I see you, boss man.” He splits his fingers and points at his eyes and then mine.

This fucking kid.

Jeremy drags himself to his corner and I spare a glance in Evelyn’s direction. I watch as she swipes the back of her arm across her brow, her hands curling around the bottom edge of her sweatshirt and lifting. I see a flash of brown skin, the top edge of those tight pants.

I pick up the other discarded shovel and turn to the southeast corner.



“Did your parents teach you how to plant?”

Sal’s laugh booms out of him, his hands busy plucking green beans from the stem as he answers Evelyn’s question. “No. Absolutely not. My dad is a mechanic and my mother kills everything she touches. I don’t let her anywhere near my houseplants when she visits.”

I grunt and jerk at a plant too roughly, a couple of leaves coming with the green beans. It’s been like this all day. Evelyn has been uncovering the life story of everyone she meets, charming them with her smiles and her laugh until they’re putty in her hands. She spotted Jeremy across the field during digging this morning and waved. Ten minutes later, and the sly little shit was belly laughing with her, neither of them digging a single hole. Barney came rumbling up with his tractor and after a five-minute conversation where she propped her hip against the wheel well, he was blushing and inviting her to poker night.

She is bright laughter and easy smiles. Genuine interest and affection that leaves you feeling like you’re floating with the clouds. That’s the magic of Evelyn, I guess. She shines so bright she casts everyone around her in that same glow.

I want to feel that light, too. But all I’ve gotten is hesitant smiles and a carefully maintained bit of space between us.

Evelyn glances at the collection of leaves and beans strangled in my hands. She’s got dirt up to her elbows and on the curve of her jaw, hair falling out of her smooth ponytail.

She looks beautiful.

“Everything alright?”

I give into temptation and reach out my hand, thumbing at a stubborn streak of mud just under her chin. Everything would be alright if I could stop my brain for a half a second, remind myself that she’s not here to stay. She sent that message clear enough the last two times she disappeared from my life without a word. Evelyn is like a spring storm. She appears without warning, makes everything around her bloom, and then leaves with the wind.

But I can’t keep myself from touching her. I fan my fingers out against the side of her jaw and she sways into me, stumbling closer. I want to press my thumb to her chin and guide her mouth open. I want to curl my hand around the back of her neck and pull her into me. I want to feel that heat bloom deep in my chest as I lower my mouth down on hers.

Instead, I settle for this. Slow, careful touches against her warm skin. I slip my thumb down the line of her throat and rub gently at a stubborn streak of dirt, back and forth. Her skin is so soft, it's like touching silk. She swallows and I drag my eyes to hers. We stare at each other for the length of one shared inhale, my hand against her throat. I wonder if she’s thinking about my hands on her skin in that hotel room. If she’s remembering, too.

A deep breath rattles in my chest and I drop my hand to my side.

Sal throws his hand up in the air, a tsch under his breath. He continues to move down the line of plants without looking up once. “Don’t mind him. He’s always like that.”

Evelyn’s eyes slant towards me, a secret in the smile that curls at her lips. Finally, a smile just for me. “Not always,” she mutters, mischief with a touch of heat. I remember another time my thumb was at her throat, her legs hugging my hips and her palms pressed tight to my shoulder blades. I shift on my feet.

“You still need my help?” I call over to Sal, breaking our eye contact and dumping the beans in a bucket. I need distance. Some space to control … whatever it is that’s pressing down on my chest every time I so much as glance at Evelyn. Touching her, feeling her skin under mine. It isn’t going to lead anywhere good for me.

I watch the top of Sal’s hat as he continues to bob down the neat line of bright green, smack dab in the middle of the field. “I’m good. Not much left to do today.”

I brush my palms on my jeans, two twin streaks of dirt. Evelyn follows after Sal, hands working in the leaves. I grind the heel of my boot down in the dirt and trace the curve of her spine with my eyes. “You wanna stay here or come back with me?”

I take off my hat and scrub my hand against the back of my head, making a mess of my hair. Come back with me pounds a beat in my skull and presses sharp right behind my eyes. If I could pull that thought right out of my head and bury it under these beans, I would.

“I’ll stay. I think I’m finding some happy out here.“ She looks at her hands with a grin, the dirt caked over her knuckles. Her eyes find mine and her smile tips wider. “Out here in the weeds.”



I take the longest, coldest shower of my life.

Watching her in the fields today had been torture. She fits here, with her boots in the dirt and her hand shading her eyes against the rising sun, calling out to me over the wide stretch of land. She fits on my back porch with her legs curled under her, chin on her knee, asking seventeen questions a minute.