Page 37 of A Touch of Spring Magic

“I’m not hovering,” she told Storm after she’d dressed, brushed her teeth and brewed a carafe of coffee for them both and the ‘crew’ he hired. More people she didn’t know stomping across her land but taking orders from him—not that she wouldn’t have known what to tell them. She felt overwhelmed.

“It’s not hovering when it’s my business. My life.”

“You hired me to do a job. Let me do my job.”

The second dumpster had arrived. How was she going to be a business leader when she wasn’t leading?

And why am I already thinking of myself as a leader when all the work I’ve done over the past year has just been crushed?

Her heart ached at the thought of the lost starts and plants—had any of them survived? Jessica didn’t know because Storm was keeping her away.

Safe.

Like a well-behaved little Southern woman—though at nearly five nine she wasn’t small.

“Give me five.” Storm issued the order effortlessly to the two men in orange vests who walked toward them, holding shovels and pickaxes, while Jessica’s frustration and anger escalated.

“This could be a weird suburban horror movie.” She was officially babbling.

Storm led her away from the destruction.

“I’m going to get the glass and debris cleared with my team,” Storm said.

“And what am I supposed to do—just stand around and look pretty?”

“That’s an option.”

She’d walked into that one.

“Look, it’s your property. Your business. Your disaster. You want to sweep up glass, at least dress appropriately and glove up,” Storm said. “Or you could get the barn ready for the starts that survived the apocalypse. You could jump online and order some grow lights and new supplies for the greenhouses. Your place. Your decision.”

He made her feel small. Petty.

“Storm.” She reached out and caught his sleeve as he turned. He looked at her. Beautiful eyes. Long lashes. Direct gaze. Confidence oozing from every pore.

“Thank you,” she said stiffly, and then traced the cuff of his long-sleeve henley. “I’m over-reacting. I’m sorry. It’s…been a week.”

“Yeah.” He rolled his shoulders, looked away and then back at her. “I’ve been there. Will be again. Like you said, it’s only a fail if you don’t get up. So let’s get up. Get the mess cleaned up, salvage what we can and see where we are.”

She had to focus on the plants today—save what inventory she could. She had thousands invested not only on the greenhouses but the equipment and plants in them.

“The party means so much to Chloe,” she whispered, her eyes tearing, “and to me. I want to… I need to do this for her. For Rustin. I have to give them my best. They deserve it, especially as I haven’t always shown the best version of myself, but the plants…”

Her throat clogged and the tears lined up on her lashes.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“None of us are always at our best, Jay,” he said. “And the nursery is your baby. We’ll be careful. We’ll be able to save more than you think.” He smiled. “You’re just now realizing that you’re human, and that’s the magic.”

She laughed a little, not at all feeling magic. A tear escaped and then another.

With his thumb he caught both tears.

“You’re good, Jay.”

She didn’t believe him, but he seemed sincere, and for today, she’d take him at his word.

*

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