Poinsettia Lane

Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE FOLLOWING DAYS pass in a blur of distraction. Everly is all but useless at the hotel, so she doesn’t even bother staying and trying to work. Luckily, she has a great team who are fully capable of covering for her now that she’s going to take some time away from the office for pretty much the first time ever.

She is constantly daydreaming. Asim’s knuckles gently brushing her hair out of her face, his palm on the side of her neck and fingers teasing through her hair, his stubble scraping across her jaw and his lips landing on hers. Her daydreams start as fleeting memories and quickly turn into steamy fantasy. Everly dreams of her name on his lips, and his muscles under her fingers. She imagines what he looks like with his shirt off, how she would wrap her legs around his waist, and what he might sound like if she touched him the way she wants to.

It’s in the middle of one such reverie that she’s very rudely interrupted by Frankie clapping their hands in front of her face.

“Get out of your head," Frankie grumbles as Everly nearly leaps out of her own skin. Thankfully, Frankie gave her a to-go cup with a lid for her tea instead of a ceramic mug, saving her from third degree burns.

Everly shoots Frankie her meanest glare. “Don’t rain on my parade," she says, feeling petulant.

“The weather is doing that just fine all on its own.” Frankie hates the rain. Most people in Arizona complain on the rare occasions it rains, but secretly they all love it. Rain is always welcome in Everly’s book. Besides, rainy days are perfect for curling up in her favorite leather armchair at Roasted while reading and sipping a steaming mug of Jasmine green tea.

Frankie’s not having any of it today though, and they haven’t told Everly what has their pants in a twist. Maybe it’s because Everly hasn’t turned a page in over twenty minutes on account of the reminiscing and daydreaming, and Frankie doesn’t like to be left out. They’ve been pestering Everly for “all the dirty details” about her weekend with Asim since their Sunday night video call, but Everly is hesitant, even after previously not being able to shut up about him, it feels like something is changing.

She feels different about Asim. Her time with him feels almost sacred, unreal, like it would be disrespectful to gossip about or minimize by trying to put into words the depth of what it has meant to her so far. There may also be a small fear in the back of her mind that if she talks about it, the beautiful bubble will burst and reality will come crashing in, taking him away from her. For now, Everly wants to keep it all to herself.

She settles back into her book, deliberately pushing her mind to focus on the words on the page, and not on what Asim will be wearing when she sees him tomorrow, or what casual touches he might grace her with, or if he will share more about his family or continue to spout random facts about plants. Everly is greedy for every little piece of him, and she needs to get a grip on reality before she completely loses it.

~~~

Everly is once again in the parking lot of Magnolia Nursery, and this time she has no problem jumping out of the car, the only one in the lot apart from the delivery truck. She wasn’t sure what to wear for this trip, which is a rare experience in her world, so she went with another yoga pants and cute sweater combo. Everly practically skips up the path to the front door, noticing the sign is set to closed but the door itself is cracked open. She assumes Asim left it that way for her, so after stepping inside she closes and locks it behind her .

The large roller door leading into the attached greenhouse on the left is down, making the space feel much smaller than it did last time she was here. Everly doesn’t see Asim in this area, and no one responds when she calls out a questioning hello, but the back door is propped open too so she takes purposeful strides in that direction.

She swivels her head left and right after exiting the back as she picks her way through the aisles of plants. Calling out again, she continues to get no response, and doesn’t see him anywhere. Everly is starting to wonder if maybe he was out front near the fountains and she accidentally locked him out. She opts to check the greenhouses while she’s back here, remembering he mentioned he had some plants still growing and not yet ready that he wanted to show her.

The first greenhouse is closed up tight, the second is wide open with no Asim in sight, and just as she starts to walk toward the third, a large black dog comes trotting around the corner, tongue lolling out and floppy ears perked forward, surprising a startled laugh out of her.

“You must be Moose. Asim’s mentioned you once or twice," Everly says to the dog, who pauses and wags his tail when he hears his name, then eyes her with his nose in the air. “Where’s your dad?”

Moose’s ears prick up and he turns toward the third greenhouse with a sign over the door that reads “hothouse.” Moose bumps the door open with his snout and then bodies his way through, tail waving madly as he disappears into the building. Everly follows him inside, and her breath catches at the otherworldly beauty that greets her. There are lush, bright green plants organized in neat rows along benches and hanging from the rafters, some with leaves trailing all the way to the floor. The filtered evening sunlight creates a magical feeling in her chest as she blinks in wonder at how it refracts around water droplets and off of wet leaves, throwing tiny rainbows into the air all around her.

Everly has her chin tilted up, head twisting back and forth as she turns down the center aisle where she last saw Moose with his nose to the ground, and then nearly trips over her own feet as her jaw drops open. She snaps it closed before Asim can turn around and catch her reaction, but she can’t seem to get her voice to work, or for her eyes to blink. She’s pretty sure they’ve been scorched open by the sight in front of her, and blinking would be a cardinal sin because she wouldn’t want to miss a millisecond of this experience.

Asim is in the hothouse, which is very aptly named, and he isn’t wearing a shirt. All her mind is capable of processing is sweaty, glistening muscles. She was just imagining what he might look like without a shirt on earlier, and it did not come close to the reality in front of her now. His muscles are sculpted, but not rigidly defined. He’s using a hose to water some of the plants, and his muscles flex and move as he raises and lowers his arm, rippling like a wave down his back as he maneuvers and angles it in different directions. Everly can’t tear her eyes away. She wants to lick those defined lines down his back and across his arms, which is an absolutely ridiculous thought and so wildly out of character for her that she doesn’t know what to do with it.

Everly carefully steps around and over empty pots and planting materials to make her way toward him when he raises the hose up higher to get to the plants in the far back row, and at this point she’s close enough to see the veins on his forearm as he adjusts the angle of the spray. Everly can say without a doubt that she has never been jealous of a hose until this moment. First the deergrass, now a hose… She wants those hands on her, immediately.

Something alerts him to her presence, maybe he sensed he was being watched or Moose grabbed his attention. Asim glances over his shoulder, and his eyes widen when he sees Everly gaping at him. He quickly turns toward her, flipping a nozzle on the end of the hose to cut off the water spray, then clawing a hand through his hair in an attempt to sweep it back from his eyes. All it does is give him a messy bedhead look, which does not help her attempts at controlling the inferno that is her libido. Everly follows his gaze as it traces the line of her body down her skin tight leggings, and then slowly back up again. She can almost feel it, as though phantom fingers are skating along in the wake of his gaze, sending tingles up and down her spine and heating her from the inside out.

The moment his stunning green eyes meet hers is explosive. She sees her own longing and intensity burning back at her, she has the sudden thought that she might be about to have a spontaneous orgasm. She heard that was a thing, but didn’t think it was real, not until this very moment when it feels like it’s about to be.

What must be an eternity later, Asim finally drops the hose and strides over to her. Everly starts to clear her throat, trying to find something to say, but he doesn’t stop. He walks right into her space, palms the side of her throat with his thumb tipping up her chin and fingers tangling in her hair, and leans over her. Asim freezes with his mouth centimeters from hers, his eyes focused on her lips and his entire body tense. Her hands instinctively went to his chest as soon as he was within reach, and his heart pounds under her palm. Everly’s fingers are trembling and her chest is heaving with stuttered breaths, but she doesn’t think she’s getting any oxygen. Her eyes keep flicking between his and his mouth, so close and yet so far from hers. Just when she thinks she might collapse, or scream, or die, he roughly grinds out through his teeth.

“I’d like to kiss you.” Low and gravely, his voice strokes down her spine. Asim still hasn’t moved, and the tension ratchets up between them. Somehow, his muscles harden even further under her hands, and she realizes he’s waiting for her. He’s waiting for a yes or no. For her permission or denial. Her brain is already shrieking “yes, yes, yes!” but her lips aren’t following instructions.

“Please," she breathes out and it’s barely a word, more of a whispered sigh, but he hears it, and he doesn’t hesitate.

With a noise low in the back of his throat, his lips meet hers. It’s not an aggressive kiss like she was expecting, though. His lips are gentle, although his hands are unyielding. He angles her head with the hand on her neck, and the other goes around her waist, holding her tightly to him. Everly doesn’t even care that he’s sweaty from working; she wants to be closer, and she wants more. She wants to be ravished. With a frustrated whine, she pulls at his shoulders, urging him on, and it sends him over whatever line he was holding himself back from.

Asim consumes her mouth with his, then moves down her neck, trailing licks and kisses and nips to her shoulder where her sweater has started to slip down. He lets out a discontented grumble when he meets fabric instead of skin and reverses course, making his way back up her neck again. Everly’s body is shaking under his touch, shivering despite the heat. His lips are everything she dreamed they would be. She spears her fingers into his messy hair and yanks his lips back up to hers, taking her turn to thoroughly explore his mouth. She forgets to breathe and she never wants to take her mouth from his, but she feels like she might faint and isn’t sure if it’s from the heat of the hothouse or the heat of him.

She’s debating how to get more oxygen without pulling her lips away when a cold, wet nose shoves its way between them. Laughing and stumbling a little, she pulls back from Asim and pats the dog’s head.

Asim sucks in air, his chest heaving as much as hers.

“I guess he’s the jealous type. Everly, I’d like you to officially meet Moose," Asim says, giving the dog a good neck-scratch, and Moose’s tongue flops out happily as he pants up at them.

Taking the excuse for some space to catch her breath and her thoughts, Everly bends down to say hi to Moose and give him a few pats.

From the corner of her eye she watches him, Asim’s chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths, and he reaches up, linking his hands behind his head and stretching as he breathes deeply. Everly can barely contain herself. Her skin itches under all her clothing, and that rather impressive display in her periphery is not helping the antsy feeling in her limbs. She re-focuses on Moose, giving him some extra pets and scratches, cooing softly to him so she doesn’t give in to temptation and leap on Asim like she wants to.

They both look up from Moose at the same time, and Asim’s eyes snag hers again. He truly has the most beautiful bright green eyes, with flecks of amber and gold streaking through them, a dark outer ring encompassing the green, and enviable thick, dark lashes.

Everly clears her throat, then blushes at how awkward that sounded. Asim raises his brows and grins at her, enjoying her flustered state while also giving her a chance to speak. She shakes her head and leans forward to re-tie her shoe, looking for any excuse to collect herself. She needs to snap out of it, and the voice in her head is telling her to get a grip already. Asim rubs the back of his neck, then grabs his shirt from a hook by the door, slipping it on over his head after quickly wiping away the lingering sweat with a dark green hand towel he had by the entrance.

“Should we get out of this heat?” Asim asks, pushing open the greenhouse door.

“Yeah, just give me a sex.” It takes Everly a split second to realize what she said, and when she does she freezes in place, mortification sluicing an icy path down her spine. She’s still half crouched, on her way to standing, and her mind is imploding. She’s in denial; there’s no way. She absolutely did not just say “sex” to him, instead of “sec”. Surely, that was in her head.

Everly is too afraid to look. She slowly straightens her back and legs, standing to her full height, but keeps her eyes on her toes. Her face is on fire. Before she can figure out how to salvage this situation, his voice flows toward her from the door, the words slow and clear.

“No problem… a moment of peace… might be breast.”

Everly’s head snaps up, and her wide eyes lock onto his. His face looks utterly serious, but she can see the amusement in his eyes, the tight line of his jaw as he wrestles in a smile, and he slowly quirks one dark brow at her. She doesn’t have time to think it through, her body just reacts.

Laughter bursts out of her, and suddenly she’s hunched over again, with her arms wrapped around her middle as though that will somehow help contain her mirth. The giggles pour out of her mouth and her eyes start to water. She can’t stop, and soon she’s gasping, half in pain from the effect of her laughter on her abs and cheeks. Asim is laughing too, a deep, rumbling chuckle that only spurs her on.

Eventually they manage to get a hold of themselves, the laughter easing into hiccuping sighs, and Everly swipes her hands across her cheeks to dry her leaking tears, then across her forehead and the sweat that has beaded up from the hothouse. Walking out the door, she looks up at Asim, and he nearly stops her heart again. He’s always attractive, but she hasn’t seen him like this before. The laughter has made him glow. He looks lighter, radiant, and he’s looking at her like she’s the only thing in this world worth looking at.

Everly averts her eyes and takes a deep, calming breath. She can do this, she can move forward like an adult.

“Sorry,” she says, “I have no idea what that was. I’m such a dork sometimes.” Her mouth twists to the side in a wry smile, and she shrugs one shoulder in an effort to minimize her discomfort in the aftermath of what can only be considered a complete loss of her mental faculties.

Asim steps in front of her and lightly touches her arm, snagging her attention so her eyes meet his again. His smile is warm and tender, and he uses both hands to brush the hair back from her face, gently holding her in place.

“It’s a good thing I like your dorkiness then," he replies softly, and a smile slowly blooms across her face at the sincerity she sees on his. He takes her hand firmly in his much larger one and turns toward the outdoor plant section.

“Besides, that might have been the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” His voice is lighthearted and playful, so she’s not entirely sure how serious he is. Regardless, Asim strides along the path as if they do this all the time. Like everything is normal, totally okay, and not at all out of the ordinary while tugging her along with him.

“Thank you," she says quietly, and Everly hopes he knows she means it for more than just the compliment.

Lacing his fingers with hers, Asim leads her to a number of plants he had in mind as possibilities for her garden. All of Everly’s attention zeroes in on that contact. The heat of his palm, how the size of his hand encompasses hers, his thumb rubbing distracting circles on her skin. When he squeezes her hand and gestures to a row plants, Everly mentally nudges herself back into the present moment and picks the ones she likes best. She does her best to listen attentively to his advice and recommendations, rather than think about his lips or the calluses that line his palms. Asim is incredibly knowledgeable, but never acts as though he’s superior or makes her feel stupid or silly for asking questions. If anything, he seems to radiate joy at her expressed interest.

A warmth has taken residence in her chest, and it thrums through her. Between Addison coming back into her life and the introduction of Asim, she honestly can’t remember a time since her parents died that she has felt so light. This feels like hope. It also feels a bit terrifying.

As Asim guides her through row after row of plants, Everly tries to imagine the work that goes into this place and can only guess at how much it must have taken to build it from the ground up. She keeps trying to picture it as an empty piece of land, and she simply can’t. It’s like Magnolia Nursery was always meant to be here, as though it has always been and always will be right here where it belongs.

After she insists on paying for everything, Asim tells her not to worry about the plant delivery.

“I’ll load them up in the truck and bring them with me this weekend," he says, which is when they’ve arranged to continue their landscaping work. He’s got a couple extra employees on the weekends so it’s easier for him to get away then.

Not having to worry about unloading the larger plants on her own is another weight taken off her shoulders by this man who has already dug his own little spot in her heart. She hopes for another kiss before she leaves, and is not disappointed. Asim leans down and gives her lips a soft brush with his, dragging his knuckles along her jaw as he leans back and leaving sparks in their wake.

“See you later, Ever.” He smiles down at her, emotions flickering across his face, though she can’t decipher what any of them might be. She’s not sure she could untangle her own emotions right now either, so she lets it go instead of worrying—and that is a miracle in and of itself.

“Bye, Asim.”

She aims a smile over her shoulder, stealing one last look at him as she gets into her car and pulls out of the lot, the smile stretching to take over her face as she drives away.

The weekend cannot come soon enough.