Page 9 of A Touch of Spring Magic (Southern Love Spells #2)

J essica stopped resisting the lure of the shower this morning—even though she knew she’d be sweaty and dirty within the first hour. She missed her early-morning, indulgent commune with steam and water and the stretching and delicious smells that had accompanied most mornings of her life, except during the last week.

Fragrant and relaxed, she hurried downstairs, realizing she was late to put the coffee on. She’d turned the back porch into a mini café for Storm and his team with a vintage-looking Coca-Cola red cooler full of bottled water and energy drinks. She also had a coffee maker and thermal carafe for coffee, and a large, covered cake platter for muffins or scones, and a bowl of fruit and energy and granola bars. She was a little embarrassed by how much pleasure it gave her to make breakfast for everyone and bake cookies, scones and muffins. She’d been trying out different recipes but not using that book.

As she hurried down the stairs, she heard voices. What the heck?

Jessica rounded the corner into the kitchen and saw Storm at the stove cooking scrambled eggs, and stirring cheesy grits while Sarah made French toast on the griddle.

“Good morning.” Storm turned to smile at her, and Jessica forgot how to breathe.

“What’s happening?” she managed, hating that she sounded breathy like she was still sixteen.

“We’re celebrating.” Sarah flipped over four pieces of the toast and then plattered them on top of an already substantial pile warming in the oven.

“What?”

“Life.” Storm’s creased smile nearly had her knees knocking.

“You.” Sarah smiled. “I’m so proud of you. You’re pursuing your dream. You’re not caught up trying to please Mom and Dad anymore and you’re no longer obsessing about what other people are going to think or say.”

“Are people talking about my career change?” she asked, feeling a bout of nerves. Of course her parents wouldn’t like it. That was why she hadn’t told them yet.

Coward.

Sarah pulled out the baking sheet of French toast, removing several and plating them and then walking the rest out to the porch and arranging the pieces inside an electric warmer.

Sarah laughed. “Meghan and I have your back, Jessie, or should I say Jay?” The wink was like the old Sarah. The Sarah who hadn’t been widowed and lived a couple of hours north in Chapel Hill before finally moving home closer to her family rather than her husband’s. “Your life is your own. I have it from a good source.”

“We were drinking champagne when I was spouting that,” Jessica murmured watching Storm reach up and bring down three plates from her open shelving. Too bad he was so tall and didn’t have to stretch enough so that his shirt would ride up, and she could see if he still had the golden tanned skin and countable abs that he had as a teenager.

Objectify much?

The problem was that she wasn’t even sorry for the pervy thought.

I’m in trouble.

Or maybe Storm was. Jessica’s record with men wasn’t stellar, and she’d stopped dating the past couple of years to focus on saving as much money as she could so that she could start to restore the farm and crystalize her vision for a possible new career path.

Her attraction to Storm was disconcerting.

And thrilling.

She hadn’t felt so…alive since high school.

Storm dished out eggs on the two plates, but as he grabbed the third plate, Sarah laughed and held up her hand.

“None for me,” she said, quickly. “I have a late start at the clinic and wanted to try a Pilates class to see if my body still works. I just brought the groceries and was going to cook a nice breakfast for the two of you and a pick-me-up for your crew as part of my ‘Go Team Jessica.’”

“Pilates?” Jessica asked. Sarah was a walker, not an exerciser. Lord knew Jessica had tried to get her to try Orangetheory and yoga and Pilates with her over the years.

“None? Sure?” Storm asked.

“I’ll grab something from the coffee shop in Cramerton after. The Pilates class is there, and I think it finishes with a run around Goat Island if it’s not flooded. Do you remember, Jessica—Grandma Millie had that little paddleboat and we would pedal and pedal like we were in an iron woman competition. It seemed so far, and now with the new park and walking trail, they’ve spanned the river with a little footbridge out to the island. You used to hold Chloe on your lap, and she had that little shark life jacket.”

She smiled while she spoke but there was something in her eyes that made Jessica’s heart pinch.

“I remember,” she said softly.

“And now she’s engaged,” Sarah said.

Storm stayed quiet, seeming to read the emotion in the room.

And why did she now feel like crying? “Lots of changes.” Jessica forced cheer in her voice and hugged Sarah hard. “Thank you for the food and the breakfast.”

“Anytime,” Sarah said softly. “You know that. We’re busy but always there for each other. Who’s the cutie?” Sarah lightly touched the fairy that Jessica had propped up in the kitchen window over the sink and near the stove.

“Huh? Storm. Oh.” She realized what Sarah meant and willed her blush back and failed epically, judging by Sarah’s soft laughter. “Cool huh? I found it last night in the garden when I lost my phone.”

“I wonder what other secrets the garden holds,” Sarah said, pulling Jessica in for another quick hug. “Behave,” Sarah said softly. “No. I don’t mean that,” she whispered, and Jessica choked on a laugh, or was it a sob? “Be kind to yourself, Jessie. You have so much to give. You always have.”

Jessica stared at her sister, wanting to keep her there, but knowing she’d slip away.

Sarah pulled away too soon and headed to the door, waving over her head, like Jessica did.

Is that genetic?

Or an escape tactic?

“Thanks for letting me play sous chef,” she told Storm.

“Yeah right. Go pretzel yourself or whatever Pilates is, and thanks for breakfast. My crew has no excuse to not get a lot off the checklist today. I haven’t thought about cheesy grits in years.”

Sarah patted her slim hips. “I try to never think about them unless I am cooking for others.” She turned around and made a little heart shape with her hands near her chest—something that Chloe had done for the past few years.

“And save some work for us this weekend,” Sarah reminded him. “You have all the Maye sisters, and I think the whole crew of the Wild Side so have a long honeys-do list.”

Jessica snorted. “There’s plenty of work. That’s not the issue.”

“And we expect to be fed.” Sarah tapped on the Southern Love Spells book playfully. “I think we should all pick something to practice for the party—maybe this Sunday. You might want to get a jump start on your recipe, Jessie. Seems you have a willing taste tester.” Her glance at Storm had the subtlety of a six-car pileup.

“Hahaha.” Jessica threw a tea towel at Sarah’s departing back.

Then she faced Storm, feeling like the air in the room electrified. He looked at the book, propped open.

“You didn’t use it, did you?” she demanded. “Or did Sarah?” Her eyes widened in horror. Which one would be worse?

“Let’s eat,” was all he said.

*

Jessica watched him suspiciously, and he made a big deal about his first bite. He cut his French toast into small squares, looked at them, crossed himself and took a bite. Then he clutched his chest.

Jessica gasped and half stood up.

“So good,” he said.

“You are not funny.”

“I am. Relax. Sarah was looking through the recipes while she was waiting for the griddle to heat, but she didn’t use the book to make the grits or French toast, and my eggs are eggs.”

Jessica pressed her lips together. She didn’t like being laughed at, and yet, she was acting ridiculous. Storm wasn’t interested in her anymore. They were adults. For all she knew he was dating someone. None of their conversations had taken a personal or romantic turn.

“I feel like we can write off this breakfast on our taxes since it’s a business breakfast,” Jessica joked as Storm pulled out his ubiquitous iPad.

She’d always liked to freehand draw, but the iPad did look more professional. He would have clients he’d need to inspire, impress and reassure. She would be selling plants, not telling people where to put them, although people might ask for advice.

Hmmmm… Before she could digress, she focused on the now.

“I was thinking last night,” she said. “I liked your idea of a larger, entertainment garden space between the barn and house,” she said. “Not that I think I’ll have a lot of events here after Chloe and Rustin’s party, but you were right about leaving a door open to the future.”

“Who are you and where’s Jessica?”

“You’re still not funny,” she said loftily, trying hard not to smile.

“Finding that fairy last night makes me feel I’m on the right track to have some separate, themed spaces, but I like the idea of an expansive space that could eventually host parties or concerts eventually…maybe,” she stressed when she saw the interest flare in his eyes. “And we should keep our focus there for the party. But I will need to figure out where exactly I want to house my nursery. I don’t see me going into the event space business.”

“At this point,” Storm said, chewing and looking thoughtful. “You’re just getting started.” He scrolled through screens. “But keep your options open. When you have the nursery and then the walking path through your botanical garden, you’re going to have folks up here, and they’re going to get ideas. Gardens are tough to maintain, and not everyone has a large house or yard lot so people might want to book a family reunion or celebration somewhere pretty. Corporations might want to book a company picnic, weddings. Doesn’t mean you have to do the work. You can provide the space, they can book a caterer, rent tables and the like, but I still think the barn should be remodeled some so that it’s to commercial code. Adds flexibility, and it’s close enough to the house that it’s practical. If we added windows up top for light, it could be your shop. You could also contract some high-end porta-potties.”

“Now I have a shop?” She’d pictured herself taking payments with her phone, or other online options, though she really hadn’t given the checking-out part much thought.

Future Jessica problem.

“I know you’re not going to like this, but I’m going to say it.” Storm ran a hand through his hair, and the gold streaks caught the kitchen light. “I know you were planning to work more and have more money saved up, but if you’ve got money concerns you can always snag some bookkeeping jobs.”

If she didn’t know him better, she’d think he was embarrassed.

“There’s no shame in it. You wouldn’t be going backwards.”

She blinked, surprised with his insight. She’d figured she’d handle all the finances of her business of course, but doing other people’s taxes—except for Chloe’s—she had been seeing that as being the bright side of being fired. Storm was right. She didn’t like to hear it, but he made sense. Bringing in funds, especially now before the nursery was open and her to-do list was longer than her arms and legs would be smart. And lots of people and business waited until the last moment.

“When I moved back to Belmont, I wanted to leave residential and commercial building construction that I’d done since college far behind, but Rustin had just purchased Millie’s Diner, and not only was I helping an old friend, it was steady income, and because it was along the riverfront, I was hoping I could finagle some landscaping for the restaurant, or at least get to know some of the city and county workers, get some future referrals.”

“Smart,” Jessica acknowledged, realizing she’d likely be tripping over her pride if she weren’t careful.

“I know I’d be first in line if you were to have a side business. We could work a trade or straight-up payment. I’ve got quite a few friends who spend their evenings on the financial tangle of their businesses instead of with their families. I know Rustin and Rebekah were doing the Wild Side’s books together, but with the pop-up and increased business, he’s losing the little free time he has.”

“Huh.” Jessica hadn’t given bookkeeping much thought. Sure she was wildly overqualified, but that could make it closer to easy money as long as she limited her clients so her time for her business wasn’t swallowed up. “Maybe I could make a website, put some feelers out, though it’s close to tax season now,” she mused. “And consider also some trades.”

“I’m in.”

“What exactly would you be tradin’, Storm?” She let her voice slide all Southern just to mess with him, but the heat in his eyes lit a fire in her own lower abdomen.

Oh. No. What was she doing? She didn’t have time for romance. And definitely not with Storm. He was too appealing. Too much history.

“What would you like?” He apparently wasn’t such a coward.

Or grudge holder.

The image that shot into her brain—him tugging her closer, plundering her lips with his, tangling his fingers in her messy bun, pulling the scrunchie out—shocked her.

“To walk the property and discuss where we can build the pergola or the gazebo. I looked at a lot of designs last night, and there was a really cute bamboo gazebo I liked, but—” She broke off, feeling like she was striping herself bare. “I don’t want it to look…” She waved her hands, not sure what word covered it. “And it would make more sense to have the gazebo overlooking where I’m planting the tea, which isn’t in this main area near the house we’re readying for the party.”

“Let’s walk,” he said, and they stood up together, breath mingling.

Jessica closed her eyes, swaying toward him a little, and for a mad moment, she wished he’d touch her, pull her into his strong arms, even though she knew she shouldn’t. She had to be her own strength, but what would it be like to be held? To feel secure? Not so alone?

Instead, he stepped back so quickly his chair tipped, but he righted it before it hit the floor.

“You said you were growing tea in one field. Why not have an Asian-influenced bamboo structure overlooking it?”

His words buoyed her confidence, which they shouldn’t. She should just rely on herself.

“Why’d that make you sad?”

Such a simple question with a complicated answer, and the fact that he’d noticed surprised her. So much about Storm surprised her.

“I still care what people think,” she said slowly. “I was way too hyper-focused on other people’s opinions in high school and college. It made me act…not always like the person I was or wanted to be. And I know I need to share what I’m doing with my parents. I love them, but…” She paused. “Look at me talking about myself again.”

“I like hearing about you.”

Her heart sped up—boy, she had it bad. “If I talk about me, you’re talking about you.”

“Not much to say.” He gave her the aw-shucks charm smile.

“I’m on to you,” she warned, swinging the French doors open. The sun was warm on her face and it was the first morning that felt like spring.

Storm was still wiping off the marble countertops and for the first time, she didn’t try to stop him cleaning up.

“I’m scared now,” he teased. “But why not tell your folks? Your dad’s one of the top property developers around.”

“Exactly. He developed Cramer Mountain—buying parcels of it from his aunt and uncles. Grandma Millie held on to this last piece, and he’s expecting either to buy or inherit it. But also, he wants me to join his company, not grub around in the dirt.”

“Your dad’s intense,” Storm said, washing his hands and spreading the tea towel on the drying rack. “One of the most successful businessmen in the county. I guess I never thought about the pressure.” He blew out a breath. “Kinda makes sense now why you were always a gunner. My grandparents were always just thrilled that I was alive,” he said. “They never complained or criticized, which gave me a freedom I took for granted.”

He joined her at the door, putting his boots on. She put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she slid her feet into her gardening Romeos. Storm and his crew would be working mostly by the greenhouses today, and she planned to be there too, so the sturdy footwear was essential.

“But your father loves you. He’s proud of you. You could see it when you were a kid, and I’m sure once he sees what you’ve done, his pride will be obvious.”

But she wouldn’t have done all this. She had help. But maybe that too was the point. Branch out. Learn to lead and delegate and manage. When to hold on and when to let go. It was an epiphany and she wanted to hold on to that.

“It’s your life. Your dream. Your dad followed his. Now it’s your turn.”

“You’re right.” She smiled and touched his hand. “Thank you. Let’s get to work.”

She grabbed her gloves and slipped on her flannel shirt. Storm held it out for her, and she tried not to feel a little thrill at his nearness.

“Oh, hey.” Storm noticed the fairy on the window ledge above the sink. “This is what Sarah was talking about. Is this what you found last night?”

“Yeah, I cleaned it off, but it still is pretty weathered—I’m loving the rustic vibe though.”

“I wonder if you’ll find anything else as you beat back time and shape the garden to your vision.”

She smiled at him over her shoulder. “It’s a little like being a time traveler. Finding things from the past as I try to envision the future, but I do want to find a lovely new home in the garden for the fairy. She’s been hidden for who knows how long, and I want her to be part of the new. I think little ones especially will love to discover unexpected finds like dragonfly sculptures, or glass hummingbirds tucked in hydrangeas or…”

“A collection of gnomes.”

She stopped on the last step so he nearly ran into her, and his arm circled her waist.

“No gnomes.”

“Not even one?”

“No gnomes. They creep me out.”

He laughed. “Now there’s an irresistible challenge.”

She turned into his body, aware of his heat and his strength and savoring it. She pretended to scowl.

“Try it. Quiver in fear of my revenge if you hide one gnome up here,” she dared.

*

On the morning of the weekend work party, all of her sisters had arrived early, though Meghan had spent the night, and they’d binge-watched the murder mysteries on BritBox far too late. Still sleepy, Jessica curled up on the banquette bench in the breakfast nook, sipping mint tea and savoring the hubbub of her sisters cooking breakfast—strawberry and blueberry pancakes courtesy of Chloe, while Sarah made cheesy and veggie scrambled eggs. Meghan dug through the fridge pulling out butter, syrup, yogurt, and a can of whipped cream.

“Yes.” Meghan shook the can. “The good stuff.”

“Rustin would be horrified.” Chloe ran over and crouched down next to Meghan, mouth open.

Laughing, Meghan shook the can and shot some into Chloe’s mouth. Jessica scrunched her eyes shut, clapped her hands over her ears and sang, “Lalalalala.”

“You still do that, Chloe?” Sarah smiled indulgently.

“No, Rustin would never use canned whipped cream.” She returned and flipped four pancakes on the griddle, looking almost like a professional chef herself. Before Rustin had returned to Belmont to open his restaurant, Chloe would have flipped the pancakes wildly so they could have easily landed anywhere—in a potted plant, on the floor or in Chloe’s curly hair.

“I am pretty wicked with a spoon with the real stuff, which I am happy to make.” She shot Jessica a look.

Jessica waved her hands, settling farther into her comfortable slouch on the window seat of the banquette. She had her back to the window so that she wouldn’t see all the work that still needed to be done, though with Storm and his crew, the progress was easily measured. She was excited to show her sisters the planted tea plants, the bamboo gazebo that Storm hoped to finish this weekend, and the mosaic that was now fully exposed and cleaned off and in far better shape than she’d hoped. He’d also cut up the trees so there were rounds of logs that Jessica was hoping to do something creative with—make a path or use to create a wall or… She was going to consult her sisters to see what they thought.

Today, she also hoped to share her brainstorm for another garden viewing area with her sisters because they were all crafty, though Sarah no longer seemed to make time to let her inner artist loose. Jessica thought it would be a beautiful space for Chloe and Rustin’s engagement pictures, and perhaps later other locals would stroll and memorialize a magical personal moment.

“Thank you,” she surprised herself by speaking out loud, and interrupting the humorous moment. When they all turned to look at her, Jessica felt vulnerable. “Thank you for being my sisters.” She stared at Chloe and then looked at Meghan and then Sarah. “For believing in my dream, for supporting me, for sharing this wonderful legacy farmhouse and acreage with me, for coming to help this weekend for a work party. And Chloe for trusting me with your special moment. Preparing for the party has really kicked my behind in gear. And thank you, everyone, for forcing Storm on me. He’s been invaluable.”

Her thank-you list mentally continued to scroll down, overwhelming her with gratitude, but Chloe had dashed over to sit beside her, nearly in her lap to hug her and lay her head on her shoulder.

“You are such a loving sister.”

With a mouthful of Chloe’s curls, Jessica couldn’t have spoken if she’d wanted, but she was trying to stem the emotional tide.

Meghan took over and plated the pancakes, putting two on everyone’s plate.

“Let’s eat and gossip and then get to work,” Meghan said, dishing out the homemade fruit compote she’d made onto her pancakes before adding a squirt of whipped cream. She handed the compote to Chloe. “Let her breathe, monkey.”

“So Storm’s working out,” Meghan stated with a definite smirk. “Double entendre intended.”

“Have you seen Storm without his shirt? He and Rustin have been remodeling the upstairs apartments at night and let me tell you—” Chloe fanned herself “—it gets hot on the upper level, even with the heat off. Those boys—Lucas is up there too working up a sweat—when they tug off their shirts, I feel like I should perve out and take pics and video and post both as a gift to women but also promo for the Wild Side. Hey.” Chloe grinned and bounced next to Jessica. “I too made an intended double entendre.”

“Stop bragging.” Meghan balled up a tea towel and tossed it at Chloe’s head. Jessica caught it.

“Not as hot as Rustin of course,” Chloe said loyally as she stuffed a bite of pancake into her mouth. She dropped her fork and spread the fingers of both hands wide a couple of times.

“I can’t tell if that’s jazz hands, Clo, or if you just gave Storm a twenty?” Meghan teased.

Jessica smiled, loving all the energy in the room despite the early hour. They needed to get together more often, especially now that they were all closer. Jessica looked at Meghan speculatively as Sarah dished out the scrambled eggs. What would it take to persuade Meghan to also rent out her condo and move back to Belmont? She could save money for a passion project, if she had one. And because she often traveled for work—sometimes for weeks at a time—not spending money on her own place would make sense.

“Twenty is modest.” Chloe grinned, looking so much like she had as a kid for a moment that Jessica felt a prick of tears, for those days, and yet the future looked brighter than ever for her and for Chloe. Now if only Sarah could find love again… She couldn’t help the way her gaze strayed to the kitchen counter where the book leaned up against the large bay window that looked out over the garden. It appeared that the rustic fairy was touching the book from this angle.

“The monkey’s getting married,” Sarah said softly, finally joining them. Jessica looked at Chloe, awed at how fast she’d grown up.

“Hard to believe, I know. I keep thinking Rustin’s going to snap out of it, but so far he’s still under the spell I cast.” She laughed as if she’d just said something hilarious. “Who’s next?” Chloe took a large bite of eggs and stared hard at Jessica.

“Don’t look at me,” she said quickly.

“Too late,” Chloe sassed with a wide grin.

“And stop bringing the book around—” Jessica waved her fork at her youngest sister “—or pulling it out of the cupboard or junk drawer. You even have Storm taunting me now.”

Chloe stared at her open-mouthed, and then her expression turned uncannily gleeful.

“We really need to pick our recipes for party appetizers from the book today. Maybe if you all choose one or two and prepare and cook it on your own exactly ,” she sang out waving her fork around with a bite of pancake dripping whipped cream, “some hottie at the party will fall madly in love with you. It’s obvious the book is primed for action.”

“I don’t want some random man falling in love with me,” Jessica claimed. “I’m finally building my life the way I want it.”

“I had my grand love, so no thanks,” Sarah said.

Meghan stared hard at Sarah, and Jessica was relieved that she, for once, wasn’t under Meg’s microscope.

“I’m busy,” Jessica added for emphasis.

“Me too.”

“Me too.” Both Meghan and Sarah spoke at the same time.

Chloe pointed her fork at them and then speared another bite of pancake.

“Like I wasn’t busy,” Chloe made air quotes. “Teaching a full load of high school English and drama. Two choirs. Private voice students. Then the Movable Feast and bam.” She clapped her hands together. “It happens when it happens. Magic. Poof.” She jumped up, wiggled her fingers and waved them over her head and spun around like she was casting a spell.

Then Chloe retrieved the book where it was propped next to the fairy in the window. “Sisters—” Chloe grinned like a maniac “—prepare to be love-bit,” Chloe said. With a finger she traced the wings of the fairy. “Sweet. Not your style I would have said, but she has a certain…knowingness that is appealing,” Chloe mused.

Chloe plopped back down beside Jessica, pushed her plate away and wiped her hands on a napkin before opening the book.

“Grandma Millie’s coming this afternoon to see the progress in the garden. She’s all jazzed up you’re doing this, Jessie.”

“She hasn’t come up in a couple of weeks,” Jessica mentioned, a little of her worry bleeding through.

Her sisters heard it.

“Really?” Chloe’s eyes popped wide. “I would have thought she’d be up here every day with advice and memories and stories.”

“Me too,” Jessica admitted. “I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“A good thing,” Sarah said firmly. “We’re grown up. Grandma Millie even said that to us before Christmas—that it was time for us to become more a part of the community, helping to keep the traditions, but also be open to start new ones so the community can thrive. The house felt lonely, like it wasn’t ours with just a caretaker on the property. Now it feels like another home.” She reached out and covered Jessica’s hand with her pale, elegant one. “You’ve done that. Made it a home for all of us. Now when I drive up here to visit, I feel happy.”

“But it’s not mine,” Jessica reminded her. “The house and the property belong to all of us. I live here and am starting a business and rehabbing the garden, but there’s plenty of room and acres I’m not touching. There’s something for all of us. Always.”

She and her sisters could add on to the Cramer legacy.

Sarah smiled, tapped her hand again. Meghan looked…hard to define, speculative. Chloe’s fingers lightly traced the edges of the book.

“I’d love to live up here,” Chloe admitted softly. “But Rustin really loves having a space that’s his that no one can take away from him.”

Jessica felt the dip in energy as they all remembered Rustin’s difficult, tumultuous and impoverished childhood.

“And living above the restaurant is convenient for Rustin with his hours, and also for me so I can dip in and say hi to Rustin when I want but also be able to run over and check on Grandma Millie.”

“Grandma Millie’s as healthy as we are,” Meghan said. “Cramer Mountain and this property is only a fifteen-minute drive from downtown Belmont. Hardly an excursion. You don’t need to always capitulate to Rustin, especially about a home.”

“I want him to be happy,” Chloe said. “And he wants me to be happy so it’s a win-win. Besides, now is not forever, and he’s remodeling the apartment so that I can have a small music studio and my piano to prepare for my choirs and voice students. And we’re adding a soaking tub in the bathroom so we both have what we want and what we need.”

“When did you get so wise?” Meghan demanded. “Hand over the book—let’s find some recipes so Storm falls madly in love with Jessica.”

“What? No!”

Her sisters laughed.

“Now that’s a damn shame,” an amused voice floated in through the open kitchen window, and Jessica looked up to see Storm standing in the opening of the French doors, grinning.

“Sisters,” she said, trying to save her dignity. “Always joking around.”

“You’re blushing,” Chloe outted her. “We knew you were protesting too much. Ow,” she yipped as Jessica pinched her thigh. “Hey, Storm. I told everyone how you and Rustin take off your shirts when you’re working late in the apartment and I’m going to do some SM posts for the Wild Side of you two.”

Now Storm blushed.

“You’re here early.” Jessica pretended she was no relation to her sisters.

“Storm, please, sit.” Sarah rose up to get another plate. “Join us for breakfast.”

“Thanks, Sarah, but my grandma made me a couple of egg and sausage biscuits this morning. Jay, we’re getting close on the gazebo, and I wanted your opinion about the pitch of the roof and a couple of ideas for the surround and the wood circles we cut so when you get a chance…”

“Now’s good.” Jessica stood up. “Field trip,” she bossed, eager to get out in the fresh air, and away from the book and her taunting sisters.

*

Of course all of them followed her and Storm.

“Wow. Oh Wow,” Chloe sang out, echoing Jessica’s thoughts. “You built this, Storm? It’s beautiful. It looks like it’s been here forever.” Chloe hopped up the curved stairs of the partially completed bamboo gazebo and began taking pictures and selfies and then she started a video.

“You need to plant bamboo to vibe it more. Make it more of a private escape.”

“No way—bamboo is invasive,” Jessica automatically objected.

“You wanted a maze. That would give you a maze.”

“I want a niche nursery, not a bamboo forest.”

“You could have pandas.” Chloe made a cute puppy dog face and did something weird with her arms like she was pretending to be a panda.

Jessica laughed and pulled out her phone. “Sure. I’ll order a pair off Amazon.”

“You could have planters for the bamboo around the gazebo,” Sarah said thoughtfully. “Are you going with an around-the-world theme with your botanical garden?”

“I’m not sure if I’m that organized,” she admitted, finding herself looking at Storm, but dang it. It was her business. She didn’t need to start looking to anyone else for permission.

Except my sisters.

But they were sisters so it didn’t count the same way. “I’ve really been collecting plants and looking at pictures of plants over the years that I like, but also plants that are medicinal. I’ve always been fascinated by ayurvedic medicine.”

Everyone was staring at her. “What?”

“Why are we just learning this now?” Meghan demanded.

“No, Jessie, don’t stop. Meghan, let her talk. This is important. Just brainstorm,” Chloe suggested. “Dream big. Freestyle it.” She held her phone out like it was a microphone and Jessica was a celebrity talking about her latest project.

Sarah and Meghan had been crouched down, looking at the tiles of the mosaic, that Jessica had finally cleared off all the overgrowth and finished cleaning last night. They had their heads together, and Meghan was talking with her hands, clearly brimming with ideas. But Jessica felt oddly blank. She’d wanted to have a garden. She wanted to work with plants. She wanted to create spaces of beauty, but she hadn’t spelled out the details. It had all been in her head.

Safe.

She shook off the doubt and fear of being judged. She would be no matter what she did—not by her sisters, and probably not Storm, and wasn’t it wild that she felt safe with him? Other people would have opinions but so what?

“Bamboo in pots around the gazebo would frame it, so that there would be shade and the illusion of privacy and the bamboo wouldn’t become invasive,” Storm said.

“Then we could create a path with some of the wood circles—the path could lead to a different focal point, with plants from tropical climes. I’d love to have the gazebo look out over planted tea plants. I’ve visited tea gardens in the Charleston area and out near Mars Hill,” Jessica shared. “I don’t want to have a tea estate, just a small garden where I can offer specialty blends of teas, and also sell some plants, but that is just one area I intend to develop, and this area gets plenty of sun.”

“The gazebo would be a great place for customers to sip tea and relax,” Chloe said.

“I don’t want to be a barista,” Jessica said. “And I’m not looking to hire a lot of staff, especially at first.”

“Self-serve,” Chloe jumped down beside her. “You can have a tea or drip coffee service area—sweet tea too that you sun-brew, and guests can get a cup using the honor system and stroll around and sip and savor. And maybe on weekend afternoons some wineries might want to come and pour their wines. You could probably sell wine grapes. People can eat wine grapes right? That’s kinda niche—feels so Napa. Oh, and Rustin and I went to a winery not too far away to discuss a wine dinner they wanted to hire him for. We got to do a whole tasting for free and talk about food and wine.”

Jessica stared at Chloe as she brimmed with ideas—no fear. But as she listened to Chloe dream big for her, something in Jessica unfurled. She’d been so focused on cleaning up the garden and having a blank slate, that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy the possibilities. Storm had tried to do that, but she’d been so worried he’d take over, yet now she was seeing in real time how one idea sparked another.

And with Chloe bouncing beside her and Sarah offering a few ideas while Storm and two crew members began installing the curved benches inside the gazebo, Meghan wandered off toward the former orchard and berry fields that were so far down on Jessica’s list she’d not begun to think about them.

“Grandma Millie,” Chloe called out and ran down the brick path toward the house where Grandma Millie stood on the porch, looking left and right as if searching for them.

As Chloe bounced more than walked beside Grandma Millie, Jessica noticed that Grandma Millie seemed thinner, a tad slower, and Jessica’s stomach lurched. Grandma Millie wasn’t old. She was more active than any of them.

Well, maybe not me now.

“Incredible progress, Jessica.” Grandma Millie joined them in the gazebo. “I will no longer be fielding calls from film production companies wanting to use this property for horror movies.”

“Have you really? That would be so cool. Maybe I could be an operatic zombie next Halloween,” Chloe enthused, making a dead face and staggering around, arms straight in front of her while launching into what Jessica thought was ‘ Quando m’en vo ’ from La bohème .

“I think that’s an operatic mummy,” Storm said, earning a barely veiled snort from Jessica, and without thinking about it, she knuckle-bumped him, and his wide smile and the warmth in his eyes nearly had her tripping over her own feet.

“Summer concerts would be a lovely addition if you have an open lawn or patio,” Grandma Millie mused. “Perhaps your students could perform along with the high school and college music groups.”

“Brilliant, Grandma Millie.” Chloe clapped and skipped a little.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Jessica admitted.

“Rustin could have his food truck here,” said Chloe. “And you could book other trucks—maybe theme the style of food with the music.”

Jessica wasn’t sure if that was practical, and yet her dream was starting to feel very real and maybe closer than she realized.