“Accepted!” I crowed. “But I’m not giving you a cookie for trying to take advantage ofme.”
“Fine,” he barked. “I’ll be there in twentyminutes.”
“Wait!” I looked down in horror. I was still in pajamas. My hair was up in one of those hair scrunchies that had gone out of style in 1990 and I was currently covered in dog hair. The phone clicked inanswer.
I tried to move the moose again and as the dog flopped over, I noticeditwas a she. Figured. Once I got her off and left her in my office chair, I rushed to my bedroom, slapped on a pair of leggings, a long white t-shirt, and a pair of ratty old flip flops. It was too late to do something with the rat’s nest that on some days was considered to be my hair, but I still took it down from theSaved By the Bellscrunchie look I had going on, quickly twisted it and pinned it into a messy bun. I scrubbed my teeth but didn’t bother withmakeup.
This was Hank we were talking about, but I had a pretty steadfast rule about knowing guests were coming over and pajamas. As in, I changed. Minimal effort, but I looked like I had my life game together.Mostly.
As soon as I stepped out of the bedroom, my doorbell rang. Hank was a dirty liar. That was more like eight minutes, nottwenty.
The puppy jumped off the couch, skidded around the corner on her too big paws and ran to the door where she promptly sat and looked back at me like, “hurry lady. There’s avisitor!”
I peeked out the privacy hole and saw Hank standing there, his face twisted into his familiar perpetual scowl. But as soon as I opened the door and the massive puppy let out an adorable “woof”, a miracleoccurred.
Surprise flickered over Hank’s face only to be followed by genuine amusement. He gasped and the puppy stood on her hind legs, looked at him for a split second, and deciding he might be okay, jumped right into his arms. He let out anoofof surprise but managed to catch her and immediately started to laugh as she bombarded his face with numerous puppylicks.
I stared at him open mouthed and a little weirded out. Where was the grumpy Lurch clone who barely grumbled two words? Puppies and babies, man. They could turn anyonearound.
He ignored me, turned, and headed down the stairs, the puppy still in his arms. With one hand holding her, he used the other to open his tailgate. Hank gently set the puppy in the back of his truck, pointed at the plants, and grumbled something ather.
She sat right down, turned her head as if listening intently, and woofed. Hank laughedagain.
I was having a very weirdday.
He turned back to look at me and, lo and behold, the scowl was back in place. “I guess delivering wasn’t good enough. Now I have to unload this all bymyself?”
I glared at him and headed down to his truck. Jerk. Now that we were on more familiar ground, I wasn’t feeling so discombobulated. Hank frowning? All was right with the world. Hank smiling and laughing? World tilted and stomach felt like a tilt a whirl. Because smiling Hank was drop dead damned gorgeous. Not that he wasn’t handsome even with the scowl, but seriously, who wanted to be around a perpetual grump? Not I. Life was too short to have permanent PMS, and living with a guy like that would be like that, minus the cramps. Well...except for once a month. And Hank on top of literal PMS? Nothanks.
But tack on dark hair, eyes like caramel on a hot fudge sundae, and a grin that showcased one perfect little dimple on the side of his mouth? Plus his well manicured hands that handled plants like they were newborn babies? Well…yes, please with a cherry on top. Hopefully mine. Because my cherry was dehydrated and kept on the shelf forwaytoolong.
I cleared my throat and my thoughts about Hank because it was weird. Wayweird.
I glared at his back just to make the world start spinning the right way again and went to lift out a pallet of plants. It was the tail end of March, the perfect time to plant, and Midnight Cove was perfect for gardening. The weather was almost always agreeable unless the gods were angry. We were all very careful not to anger them, but every once in awhile, someone managed to bring down their wrath and we had to deal with hurricane, tornadoes, all the fun things that a small, enclosed town should never have to deal with. However, most times, the gods focused their weather wrath right on top of the naughty person so there wasn’t much collateral damage. Most of the time, and depending on who the godwas.
But barring all of that, the weather usually stayed from 55 to 65 degrees most of the year. From November to February we had occasional light dustings of snow, which was gorgeous, but we lost most of our plants. Thus the reason Hank and Pepper were still inbusiness.
The first pallet I lifted out was creeping thyme. I crushed one of the leaves in my hand and leaned down to inhale the herbaceous scent. Every year I redid my landscaping. I had seven acres of land here even though I kept it pretty quiet. Most of the town thought the land belonged to the Dating service. The founder of it owned the vast majority of Midnight Cove. But she didn’t own this. When I first started my necromancy business, I put almost every penny away. I existed on packaged noodles and those salty packs of seasoning and water, and also dry cereal. It was a meager existence, for sure. In the first two years, I had raised enough money to buy the house and the acreage around it. Even my parents had no idea how much land I actually had. I could buy all the plants I wanted and never run out of room to growthem.
I put the creeping thyme down by the pile of landscaping pavers I’d left in the front because they were heavy as hell and I was both lazy and weak. Hank didn’t ask where to put his pallet so he set the Wave petunias next to the creeping thyme. It would be plant sacrilege to plant those together and I gritted my teeth as he walked away for the next. I thought I caught the hint of a smile on his face, but that would be impossible. Only puppies made Hanksmile.
Speaking of the little she-devil, she hadn’t moved from her spot in the back of Hank’s truck. She watched him intently as he lifted pallet after pallet off his truck, but she never tried to chew or jump. She was weirdlyobedient.
After the fourth pallet of Wave petunias were unloaded, all right next to my creeping thyme, Hank finally spoke. “What are you going to do with all of this?” he asked, his gaze sweeping across myyard.
“I re-landscape every year,” I toldhim.
Instead of looking impressed, a look of horror slid over his face. “What about all the plants from the yearprior?”
I shrugged. “That’s why I buy mostlyannuals.”
He eyeballed the creeping thyme. “That will come back next season.” His gaze swept the Wave petunias. “And so willthose.”
I waggled my fingers. “Necromancer,” I whispered. “If it doesn’t, I can bring it back to life. Woowooooo!”
Hank rolled his eyes. “Or...you could not kill it atall.”
I took umbrage to that. “I don’t kill things. Some things justdie.”
