I winced. “A quarter to never?”
He shook his head. “You know almost as much about every plant on this property as I do. You’ve got great instincts and people skills, and the pay is practically double.”
I didn’t care about the pay. I lived simply and didn’t have especially extravagant tastes. And now that I was living in a place that was already bought and paid for, I needed even less. “I don’t need the headache, Dunc.”
He muttered something I couldn’t quite make out.
A hint of guilt churned in my stomach. A manager position meant the kind of stress I didn’t need, like people counting on me for more than just working a set number of hours a week. Even though I’d worked at Bloom since high school, I didn’t feel the pull for more. I liked my life exactly how it was. I had a paycheck that covered the necessities and time to enjoy things outside of work. I didn’t take any of those moments for granted because I knew none of them were guaranteed. So, I lived each one to the fullest and enjoyed the simple beauty in all of them.
“Tell me if you change your mind,” he grumbled.
“I will. Promise.” But I didn’t wait for anything else. I made abeeline for the greenhouse door and headed out into the early morning sunshine. I sucked in a lungful of cool air. It soothed my anxious edges.
Squinting down at the list, I made a quick plan. I grabbed a cart from the row near the gravel parking lot and got to work. It only took about twenty minutes to get everything pulled, and I made it to the loading area just as a truck headed my way. Only it wasn’t Shep’s familiar silver one towing a trailer. It was a black one that fit the personality of the man behind the wheel.
I steeled myself, pulling my armor into place and trying to remember what Shep had told me. Anson had been through something. And that something had left him a shell of the person he’d once been. It had wrapped him in coldness. Maybe that frostiness was his armor—a way to keep people at arm’s length.
The truck swung around so Anson could reverse into the makeshift spot. I tried to focus on the beeping alerts, not the prickle of awareness skating over my skin. The moment the rig was in park, I stepped forward and unlatched the trailer.
Footsteps sounded on the gravel. “Shouldn’t have done that.”
My gaze flicked to the side as I opened the back door. Anson wore a ballcap that shielded his eyes from the light, but the sun still picked up on the lighter strands of blond in his thick, wild scruff. “Do what?”
“Moved behind the trailer before you knew I was done backing up.”
I rolled my eyes. “I could see you weren’t in reverse.”
Those blue-gray eyes swept over my face, assessing. “Easy to change that.”
“Good morning to you, too, Anson. How’d you sleep?” I said with an exaggerated smile bordering on the look of a deranged clown.
Something passed over those stormy eyes, but it was gone so quickly, I second-guessed myself. He turned to the array of plants. “These all ours?”
I nodded. “Shouldn’t take us too long to load things up.”
Anson jerked his head in a nod and moved toward the heaviestitems. He bent and lifted an Aspen sapling with ease. His tee stretched tight across his muscled chest as his biceps flexed.
I quickly averted my gaze and moved to some of the shrubs. We worked silently, but it was only a matter of minutes before the quiet made my skin crawl.
“So, you think you guys will finish the place today?” I asked, desperate for noise to break up the silence. If Anson didn’t start talking, I was going to start singing, and I couldn’t imagine he wanted that.
“Likely.”
That was it. One word and on to the next shrub.
Instead of annoying me this time, it made a small snicker leave my lips.
Anson’s smooth gait hitched before he reached the trailer. “What?”
I grinned at him. “You’re a real Chatty Cathy.”
He scowled at me and headed into the trailer.
“So,” I tried again, “how do you like Sparrow Falls?”
I could make a game out of this. See what buttons I needed to push to get Anson talking.
“Fine,” he clipped, moving for a lilac.
