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Even if it meant risking a part of the harvest by allowing her to keep plucking the useful ground covers, one after another, from the overly wet soil.
With arms crossed, I watched her from a distance, unable to suppress a grin. Amelia wanted to make herself useful and contribute ever since I had invited her here. How could I blame her for kneeling in the herbs?
Finally, I positioned myself behind her, shielding her from the sun. Otherwise, she'd be nursing the sunburn of her life this evening if she wasn't careful.
"Is there a reason you're sitting in my beds and… eating the tomatoes straight off the plants?" I had intended the sentence to end differently, but as I stood there, she leaned forward, supporting herself with one hand, and picked the tomato off the plant and slid it between her lips.
Amelia kneeling right before me was enough to send my thoughts spiraling in an entirely different direction. After two days, I would have assumed that some of the attraction would dissipate. That was not the case, however.
"I just didn't feel like sitting inside and working anymore," she replied with a shrug.
"You could take a break and do nothing for a change?"
She scrunched her nose. "But that would mean I'm burdening you, and I don't want that."
"If you remember, the bed-and-breakfast was running just fine before you arrived. I think we'll manage if you don't destroy the beds like a hungry deer."
Offended, she smacked her hand against my shin. "I'm destroying them?"
"You're sitting in the middle of the herbs."
"That's a weed."
I bent down, plucked a leaf from the crushed plant between her thighs, and held it under her nose. "Ground elder."
"And that's supposed to be edible?"
"It's excellent in our stews."
Amelia looked at me, her expression unchanging. "Anything else?"
There was quite a bit that came to mind, but judging by her look, she didn't actually want to hear any of it, so I stretched out my hand to pull her to her feet.
"I was raised in the countryside," she stated.
"That doesn't automatically make anyone a gardener."
"No," she grumbled. "Clearly not. In my presence, all plants commit suicide."
"And after a short rehab with me, they're back to thriving. No big deal."
"So you've kidnapped my plants?" She brushed off her hands on her pants. I casually lifted my hand and wiped the dirt from her cheek, causing her to pause as I continued and then acted as though nothing had happened.
It clearly irritated her, but since she didn’t respond, I decided to do the same.
"Rehab." I affirmed my previous statement. "You'll get them back."
"Do you also take in somewhat overgrown plants for treatment?"
Smiling, I tilted my head. "Haven't I already?"
"And do you plan on giving me back at the end?" She bit her lower lip, as if she was shocked that the statement had even left her mouth.
Although the boundaries were clearly defined, I decided to ignore that, at least for the moment. "You'd have to force me to send you away, Amelia."
11
AMELIA
