Page 7 of Matthew
“He takes after his boss.”
She snorted. “If I’m such a slacker, how come I’ve already reorganized the herb tables, scheduled the next round of shade cloths, and unloaded half a pallet of topsoil?”
Nate raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I just water things and keep the place from catching fire.”
“Which is why you’re still my favorite.”
Nate lifted a brow. “I’m one of five full-timers. You’re playing favorites now?”
“Only when bribery and flattery are involved.” She shot him a crooked smile. “Which reminds me, I’m still out of lemon bars.”
“You should do something about that.” He smiled and pushed off the bench. “I’m going to go check the back irrigation valve. Pretty sure it’s leaking again.”
“Of course, it is.” She grabbed a tray of seedlings and glanced toward the front lot. “If a new delivery shows up while you're back there, send ‘em my way.”
“Will do,” he said over his shoulder. “And try not to scare this one off.”
“No promises.”
From the front of the nursery, the bell above the shop door jingled, followed by a cheerful voice calling, “I brought scones! And judgment, if you need it!”
Callie groaned and called back, “Tell me it’s blueberry. I’ve had a day.”
Her younger sister, Maggie, dropped a bakery box off for the workers at the front desk, then rounded the corner holding another box and two iced coffees. Her bright sundress fluttered around her knees and brown hair tucked into a messy braid bounced off her shoulder. At her side, a squat Corgi trotted as if he owned the place. Like Sammy, Tater was a rescue. He was also their self-appointed quality control manager and chaos coordinator.
Sammy immediately rushed forward to greet them with nose bumps and tail wags, while Tater struck a pose like he was ready for a promotional calendar.
“Blueberry and lemon,” Maggie announced, wiggling the box before setting it on a table on the side patio to bend and pet Sammy. “And what kind of day? It’s barely noon.”
Callie snorted. “A man showed up out of nowhere. Aviators. Muscles. Called himself Herb Boy.”
Maggie straightened and blinked. “You hallucinating again, or was this one real?”
“Unfortunately, real.”
Her sister’s eyes sparkled. “Was he cute?”
Gorgeouswas a better fit, she thought absently, watching the dogs chase each other out the door with Tater in the lead. Of course, she’d never admit those thoughts to her sister.
Callie tried for casual instead. “I mean, objectively, I’d say yes.”
“Oh, we areabsolutelyunpacking that in a minute.” Maggie plopped down on a stool and handed over a coffee. “Start from the top. I want details. Name. Height. Voice. Was there banter?”
She took a long sip, debating how much to share. “Matthew Walker. Over six feet. Deep. He said the place smelled like a salad bar.”
Maggie gasped. “Rude.”
“He also called me bossy. And pretty. Not in that order.”
“Sounds like a keeper.” Her sister grinned. “He’s got you pegged already.”
“Stop.”
“I will not. You’re blushing.”
“It’s the humidity.”
Maggie opened the scone box. “Sure. Anyway, I think it’s time you started dating again. Maybe this is fate.”
