Page 115 of The Way We Touch

“It’s nice to meet you, Logan.” Rachel steps forward to shake my hand. “That was a pretty gnarly injury you got there. I was watching when it happened. We all said a prayer for you.”

“Thanks.” It’s another prickly topic.

“He doesn’t want to talk about his injury.” Zane climbs down the ladder, wiping his hands with a towel.

He cuts a look at Rachel, and her eyes narrow. “I can still be empathetic.”

“No one likes being pitied.”

“That’s not what I meant!” She crosses her arms, glaring daggers at him as he continues into the greenhouse.

Miss Gina stands beside me with her hand on my arm and a preening smile on her face.

She leans closer to me, stage-whispering, “They’re always bickering like two banty chickens.”

“I think you mean bantam,” Rachel corrects her. “And I don’t bicker. He’s just an old grump.”

Chewing my lip, I don’t laugh at her statement of fact.

Zane returns, closing the greenhouse door behind him. “That should do it.”

“I’ll check on your flowers.” Rachel flicks her ponytail at him as she passes, and I notice his eyes flicker to her ass.

He quickly returns his attention to the old lady. “We’re taking off, unless you need something else?”

“I think that’s enough for today.” Miss Gina releases my arm. “You’ll be back next week, Zane?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I wait as he collects his tools.

Satisfied, the old lady enters the greenhouse, and I turn on my crutches to follow him out to the Jeep. He’s not saying anything, but I figure it can’t hurt to poke the bear. Or in his case the broody panther.

“That Rachel’s a cute girl.”

“She’s a nosy pain in the ass.” He drops his tools in the back of the Jeep before climbing in with a little more energy than when we got here. “We were fine until she showed up. Now it’s nonstop suggestions.”

“She seemed sweet to me.”

“Well, looks can be deceiving.” He turns the key, and I’ve just settled in my seat when he roughly jams it into gear and takes off down the road at a rapid clip.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, which makes me chuckle. The wind whips around our heads, and I think about the old lady and her mischievous expression as she observed them.

“Miss Gina’s something. Sometimes I think she’s tricking us all, and she can really see.”

“She sees things.” Zane doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “Just not like you and me. Probably because she’s blind.”

I’ve learned my lesson about suggesting he’s being woo-woo, so all I say is, “Maybe.”

We arrive at the house at the same time as Dylan rides up on her bike, and seeing her in a leotard and tights with a little ballet skirt around her waist tightens my stomach.

She’s been through so much, and she still keeps going. Hell, she was there when I got injured, even after all she told me, and she stayed by my side.

I think about what Miss Gina said about change and not being able to control where your life takes you—and moving on to the next great thing.

Her eyes light when she sees us, and she skips down to where I’m standing beside the Jeep. When she reaches me, I lift her off her feet in a hug, bracing myself with my crutch.

It makes her laugh, and she wraps her legs around my waist, kissing me slowly. I’m not going to lie, it makes my dick twitch.

“How was your day?” I love the sound of her voice.

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