Page 52 of Love Among Vines

She gestured widely, and Jade took in the model airplane that dangled above the register and the Keuka Lake silhouette on the bathroom door.

“It’s impossible not to love. And I would really love to see it on my wall every day.”

“So you just want me to paint the town?” Jade clarified.

Margie shook her head. “No.”

She swiveled and pointed atBreakfast at Epiphany’s. “When I look at that painting, I canfeelNew York. I want you to paint a feeling. I want my customers to feel the town when they look at it.”

“Okay,” Jade said slowly. Just how the hell was she supposed to manage that? And with an injured wrist, no less.

Just another impossible task for her To Do list.

“What the hell happened to you?”

Jade jumped. She had been staring at the wall, willing it to show her exactly what Margie wanted. What if she couldn’t give her what she asked? How was she supposed to evoke a feeling?

Rett stared at her, a bouquet of sunflowers clutched in one hand. Her heart jumped for a second, and her mood immediately shifted. Oh, right. They were supposed to be fake dating.

The café had opened, and a table of elderly women gawked at them. What was this, some kind of busybody quilting circle?

“Morning.” Jade rose to her feet. She sidled over to him and kissed him on the cheek. He smelled like sandalwood and soap. The energy emanating from the busybody table was palpable.

Rett’s energy, meanwhile, was rigid. He tossed the bouquet on Jade’s table and pulled her closer. His thumb scraped over her cheek.

“Did this happen at the house?”

“Not exactly.” She stepped away to escape his unnerving gaze, but he grabbed her injured wrist. She inhaled sharply and snatched it back.

“What happened?” he asked again, voice hard.

“I fell out of a tree. Wait?—”

Rett picked her up and hefted her over his shoulder. The bell on the door clanged as he carried her out onto the sidewalk.

“Put me down,” she yelled at his back. She had an unimpeded view of his ass from here, and it wasn’t helping her focus.

“No.” He pulled his phone out and held it to his ear, still walking.

“Hey,” he said to someone. “I need you to meet me at your office. Yes. Thanks.”

He slid it back in his pocket. “What were you thinking, climbing a tree in the rain? If this was part of your experience crusade?—”

“You thought throwing myself out of a tree was an experience I decided I needed to have?” she said to his back.

“I don’t know how your mind works,” he said.

“Obviously not.”

This was ridiculous. She didn’t have any time to waste. She needed to figure out how to encapsulate an entire town or her rebirth as an artist would go up in flames.

“Morning, Rett. Everything okay?” an unseen person asked.

“We’re doing great, Ted. Save me a scone, okay?” Rett’s voice rumbled in his chest like a bass drum.

“Put me down,” she said firmly.

“No. You need medical attention.”

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