Page 30 of Tender Heart
Pulling at my hair, I pace the room. Everything I write is either cliché or like porn that your deviant hermit cousin wouldn’t even want to read.
Sweet hell on earth, this is killing me.
I stalk back and forth past the window, and jerk with a start when a concerned Callum flies through the doorway, breathing heavy.
I—
Oh . . .
“What was that damn noise?” he snaps, his gaze tracking to the upturned chair near the desk.
“S-sorry.” I pluck it up and shove it under the desk. His eyes track the full length of my body, assessing for what I assume he thinks is damage. I feel exposed. After hours of trying to write oneparticularscene, it’s all I can do to not combust where I stand under his heated stare.
“You okay?” he rasps before his Adam’s apple bobs on a swallow.
“Yep,” I say, too fast. “All good here.”
He raises a brow, leaning a little to one side to look at the desk. “Right, well, if you got a minute, I want to show you something.” Shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, his tight T-shirt stretches over his chest. Straining over his broad shoulders. Around bulging biceps...
I huff a wobbly breath. “Sure, what is it?”
“You’ll see.” His face lights up. “Come on, it’s outside.”
He disappears back through the door. After a beat, I suck in a breath and follow. I find Callum waiting outside the front door. I swipe up my sun hat from the hook by the door and pat down my shorts before folding the collar up of my blue-toned checked shirt. I always get burned, and it’s the middle of the day.
Callum’s boots scrunch on the gravel as we make our way toward the greenhouse. The day is stunning. With that last bitter cold snap gone, it’s all blue skies and soft ocean breeze, the call of birds echoing out from the small island forest. The one place I haven’t ventured into yet—the forest and beyond to the south end. Maybe one day...
Callum stops at the doors to the greenhouse and turns back. “Close your eyes.”
“What? No.”
“Evie,” he hums my name in a deep sound that travels the length of my body.
With a huffy sigh, I relent. “Fine.”
I close my eyes and raise my hand in front of my face. His warm one closes around mine, sending something ethereal through me.
“Don’t worry, I won’t run you face-first into anything hard.” The lilt of his words almost makes me want to crack my eyes open.
With a gentle tug on the hand connected to his, we move forward. From the warm air that swallows me, I figure we’re inside the greenhouse. The scent of fresh earth, plant life, and fertilizer turns pungent. It is dead quiet, apart from our footsteps. We finally come to a halt, and he drops my hand and manhandles me by the shoulders, turning me to the left.
“Where are we?” I say, eyes still closed.
“At the back of the greenhouse, where the herbs and edible flowers are. Spring has officially sprung, and I wanted to show you this. You can open your eyes.”
My eyes drift open to find bursts of color. All of a sudden, I can smell every herb, smell the scents of the roses, nasturtiums, and other delicate-looking flowers. And they are covered in something yellow, flat... Flitting. Busy as a?—
Buzzing, or something like it, floods every limb.
“Watch this,” Callum says. He steps forward and claps his hands.
Hundreds of lemon-colored butterflies burst from the plants, rising in a cloud of wings.
I stagger backward.
Air leaves my lungs and I choke, trying to catch the next breath. Griping my body tight with both hands, I splutter out a small cry before spinning back and running from the greenhouse like he just let off shrapnel, not elegant insects.
A strangled moan works my throat as I rush to the house, trip up the spiral staircase, and fall into the bedroom.
