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Chapter Three

TYLER

I wipe the back of my hand across my brow. Despite my best efforts to avoid mixing dirt with the sweat dripping off my forehead, I can feel the grime clinging to my skin. Whatever. I only have twenty minutes left for the day. It’s not like there’s anyone around to comment on it, either.

I knee-walk over to the next section where I need to weed today and get to work. I’m already imagining how good the hot water will feel on my sore muscles tonight. Until last year, I’d never been one for baths. It’s sitting in a bowl of dirty water. But, apparently, I’m getting old, and spending a day crawling around in the garden leaves me tight and sore in ways it didn’t used to.

Plus, it has the added benefit of letting me soak off all the grime in a big pile of bubbles.

The first sprouts are pushing through the surface of the soil this week. That’s the nice thing about working out in the garden. I get to see the whole life cycle of these plants. Every year, I plant the seeds, tend to the garden, and harvest the rewards from my hard work. For someone who previously couldn’t keep a small cactus alive, I now have a renewed sense of purpose. It grounds me to repeat this process year in and year out, always trying to do a little bit better but knowing things like the weather are out of my control. Although, I might need to find something that doesn’t require crawling around on my hands and knees for hours at a time now that I’m in my thirties. That or buy one of those ridiculous-looking kneeling pads.

Most of what we grow here at Sprouting Joy ends up as food for those in need, either through a food bank or one of our community partners. I never see that side of things; my part is done once the vegetables are harvested, but I like going home knowing that someone gets to eat that night because of the work I did. Sure, I only do this one evening a week these days, but it still feels significant. Especially when my day job doesn’t help anyone unless they turn over fistfuls of money first.

“Tyler?” A pair of high heel shoes appears on the sidewalk in front of me. I don’t need to look to know they belong to Steph, the executive director. She’s been here for nearly a decade, and I adore her. Where most people might have seen me as a temporary misfit, Steph took the time to figure out how to make the best of my time at Sprouting Joy. She’s the reason I’m still here after five years.

It’s rare for her to make an appearance outside. Usually, she catches me when I arrive or waits for me to come back inside at the end of the day. The stilettos she favors, even while very pregnant, aren’t built for the rough terrain in the garden. I try to look up at her, but the sun is in my eyes. I need to remember a hat or sunglasses now that the sun is setting so late. Rocking back onto my heels, I push myself up and do my best to wipe at least some of the dirt off my hands.

“I want to introduce you to someone.” A man steps out from behind Steph. Fuck . I know that figure. Graham .

I was right—he looks far more comfortable in his navy blue suit than in the casual attire he wore to the bar. And damn, he wears that suit well. It must be tailored to hug him in all the right places like that. I don’t know much about suits, but they certainly never fit me like that. Probably because the only one I own was bought off the clearance rack of a fast fashion store. It doesn’t help that I’m imagining the way he looks under all that fabric.

Steph rubs her round belly as she smiles at me. “This is Graham Stevens. He’ll be taking over for me while I’m on maternity leave. Graham, this is Tyler. He’s one of our best and most dedicated volunteers.”

Oh. OH. The pieces slowly fall into place. How did I not figure this out last night? Is there a protocol for this kind of thing? Do I pretend I don’t know him? The alternative is admitting that we hooked up. Steph and I get along well, but not well enough that I confide in her about my sex life. Fuck, I don’t even talk to my best friends about my sex life.

“It’s nice to meet you, Tyler.” He extends a hand toward me.

Alright, I guess we’re going with the pretend-to-be-strangers approach. As if I could forget the way his dick felt in my mouth last night. “It’s great to meet you. I’ll pass on the handshake, though, if you don’t mind.” I hold up my dirt-covered hands as proof of the issue. His pure white dress shirt should be thanking me for that one. Gloves would help, but I like the feel of the soil on my skin. It provides me with a deeper connection to the process than having fabric in the middle. There’s so much I can learn about how the crops are doing through touch, from the way a leaf feels to the texture of the soil. A little dirt is a small price to pay.

“Understood. Steph has nothing but wonderful things to say about you.” My face burns at the compliment. I’m suddenly pissed that my parents didn’t come up with a more creative name than Tyler. If I had a more unique name, maybe Graham would’ve caught on sooner and could’ve texted me a heads-up. There are probably hundreds of Tylers in Cardinal Falls.

“Steph exaggerates.” These days, I’m only here on Wednesday nights. It’s not a typical shift, but Steph lets me keep it so I can volunteer while working full-time at my day job. She’s always been willing to accommodate me. Finding me extra hours or creating shifts to help me out.

“I can’t give away all my secrets.” She smiles at me before turning to Graham. “Tyler here does most of the actual gardening. He knows the schedule for harvesting, so defer to him if you have any questions.”

“Whatever you do, don’t trust the kids,” I add. I’m desperate to get out of this conversation, but this information is vital. I’m not letting him fuck up my garden. “They’ll try to convince you that things are ready too soon. It’s not malicious; they get excited.” Kids love to look at the vegetables, but they’re prone to picking things before they ripen. Those last few days can be the difference between the food being great or unusable. Sometimes it’s a good learning experience, but often it’s a waste. God, I’m going to miss Steph. She might seem like the type to let people walk all over her, but I’ve seen her fight back with a fierceness she conceals most of the time. She makes sure no one touches my plants without permission.

What am I going to do without her for three months?

Fuck . What am I going to do about running into Graham weekly for three months? Do volunteers get sympathy maternity leave?

I can do this. It’s once a week. I rarely see Steph unless one of us makes an effort. If I channel some effort into not running into Graham, we should be able to get through this. Hell, I bet I can go a whole three months without running into Graham more than a couple of times. I might even be able to make this our only awkward run-in. Could I get that lucky?

GRAHAM

I know Cardinal Falls is a small city, but I had no idea it was this small. How is it that that one person I’ve hooked up with also happens to be one of the volunteers at my new job? I’m tempted to run the statistics to find out, but it won’t change anything. I’m pretty sure something in the ethics manual says no fraternizing with the volunteers. Or maybe that only applies to paid staff?

Not that it matters. Tyler clearly has zero interest in repeating our night together. He made that clear when he nearly left a cloud of dust escaping my apartment.

“Thanks for volunteering. Steph’s been raving about your ability to keep this garden running for days.” The shock of seeing Tyler standing in front of me is slowly subsiding. His face is smudged with dirt along his cheeks and forehead. Somehow, it only makes him more attractive.

Maybe pretending not to know him wasn’t the best choice, but I panicked. Technically, Steph knows the details of that night. Well, some of the details. I had no idea she knew the guy. Somehow, I don’t think either Steph or Tyler will be amused at the situation.

Now? I don’t even know where to begin. He technically reports to me. Steph is crazy about him and how good his work is. And me? I want a few minutes alone to collect my thoughts.

“I certainly try. Though, to be honest, I think one of the other volunteers is actively trying to sabotage me.” I raise an eyebrow at him. Steph laughs, bending over and holding her belly. “I swear every week I come back and find that someone’s moved something or planted something new that doesn’t work in this soil.” He glares at Steph. “However, someone refuses to give me the information I need to solve the mystery.”

“You know I can’t give you information about other volunteers.” The rapport between the two of them is obvious, and my panic turns to guilt. Steph’s not only the person I’m filling in for; she’s an old friend. We’ve known each other for years. Not only am I lying, but I’ve forced Tyler into the same lie. For my first week, I’ve managed to find a lot of trouble.

“I’m going to start showing up randomly until I track the person down.”

“I’d be worried if I thought you had time for something like that. I know your job keeps you too busy to make good on that promise.” He turns a bright shade of red. Clearly, this garden means a lot to him. Would it be overstepping to find out who was messing with him and ask them to behave?

Barely ten minutes in, I’m already considering giving Tyler special treatment. This is why no fraternizing rules exist.

“We’ll let you get back to it. I wanted to make sure the two of you met before I go on maternity leave.” She rubs her belly again. “It’s really an any day now kind of thing, so I don’t want to leave any loose ends.”

“I’m going to miss you so much.” Tyler wipes his hands on his jeans, leaving streaks of reddish dirt on the ripped denim. They hug for a few seconds, and I see her whisper something in his ear, but I can’t make out the words.

“I’ll be back soon, so don’t think you can get away with anything. I expect to hear nothing but reports of you being on your best behavior.”

“Always.” He gives her a mock salute, and she shakes her head. “It was nice to meet you, Graham.” The way he says my name makes my cock twitch. I shift my position a bit and try not to picture the way he came with my name on his lips the other night.

“I’ll see you around.” Or not. I don’t usually see many of the volunteers at jobs like this, and I didn’t have any plans for that to change over the next several months. We can be professional. Yep, professionalism will be my middle name.