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“They’re foam, so it’s naturally displacing the water for resistance.”
“It’s amazing. What will they think of next?”
We work out a half-minute in silence, and it’s quiet and boring without our tunes. Twisting my lips, I try to think of a conversation that she can’t turn into innuendo on me.
“I’ve honestly never heard of winterizing a garden this far south. I didn’t think it got cold enough.”
“We get the occasional freeze.” That breezy tone is still in her voice, and she’s still talking a little too loud for my taste.
I sneak a glance at Zane, who’s finishing up with the plants. He’s moving her potted fruit trees into the sun, and his biceps flex attractively as he lifts the heavy clay pots.
I chew my lip as I pretend not to watch him with his scowly face, defined arms, and powerful thighs. The muscle in his jaw moves under his scruff, and I try not to remember him in the hall in only a towel with his hair all wet, smelling like masculine body wash.
I’ve been tempted to use it myself, but I’m afraid he’ll catch me and be mad. Not that it would be such a change.
“I’m about done.” His deep voice almost makes me yip. “Tomorrow I’ll get rid of those mimosa trees.”
“Oh, no!” The words jump out before I can stop them.
“What?”
“I like mimosa trees.”
“They’re weeds.” Zane’s brow is lowered, and his voice is pure impatience like always.
“But the flowers are so cute. They’re like little pink puff balls.”
“They’re messy, they attract aphids, and they multiply.”
Miss Gina continues bouncing in the pool, a smile beaming on her cheeks as she pushes the water weights side to side.
“What do you think?” I ask her.
“I’ve never seen a mimosa, but I guess we can have one around if it’s as cute as you say. It makes me think of pixie dust, like inPeter Pan.”
“Pixie dust,” Zane grumbles.
Miss G only exhales a satisfied hum. “I’m starting to get tired. Maybe I’ll head up to my room now, if that’s okay?”
“Of course!” I go to her, taking the weights. “Need me to walk with you? Did we overdo it?”
“I’m perfectly fine. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” She beams at me, leaning closer to stage-whisper. “I wish someone would stay in my guesthouse sometime. I hate being out here all alone, and it’s such a lovely space.”
I give her the old squint-eye. Not only is she leaving me here in my bathing suit, she’s doing whatever she can to get me alone with Zane.
She forgets Edward is also here.
Even if he does have his noise-canceling headphones on pretty much 24-7.
“So you keep saying.” I hold her arm as we walk up the wide steps leading out of the pool.
Zane turns away to pack his canvas tool bag. I’m not in my bikini today, because I knew he was going to be here. I’m trying not to bethatgirl.
Still, walking around in a one-piece bathing suit makes me feel very exposed in front of him, which is ridiculous.
For starters, we live at the beach, and for seconds, he did see me completely naked in the shower. My ears heat at the memory of waking up with him standing over me, eyes blazing with worry, damp hair hanging over his square jaw.
I do seem to douse him with water a lot.Angry god.
