Page 73 of Baby, Be Mine

“What else do you need? You mentioned you had to go get supplies.”

“Did you see the little wood stumps I got for the tables? I need real ones for out here. I want this totally lit up.” She pointed up. “We’re going to fill the tree and then down here for photo ops. Will be great for weddings in the future. You do quite a few of them at the restaurant too right?”

I nodded. “You gunning for more than event planning for the barge, Emma?”

She dropped down to sit cross-legged to separate the baby’s breath from cattails. “I don’t think I’m suited for being like a wedding planner. I’d probably punch a bridezilla.”

I snorted. “So, I should worry about difficult clients?”

She froze, with her hand over a bunch of eucalyptus, then went back to her sorting. “No. And that was very unprofessional to say.”

I crouched in front of her. “Wasn’t a test. I promise.”

She met my gaze. “You are my boss—hopefully. It was a dumb comment.”

“You’ll find that we need to vent as much as possible. As long as we aren’t around a patron, that is.”

“I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate you giving me a chance. Last thing I want to do is to seem flippant.”

I reached to still her hand before she shredded the baby’s breath. “You’re helping me as much as I’m helping you—believe me.”

Her heavy lashes lifted, and those impossibly blue eyes met mine. “Not possible.”

I let her go and stood. I didn’t want her to feel beholden to me. The imbalance between us was already enough to make my shoulders ache. The fact that I felt protective of her already either made me stupid or in a whole lot of trouble.

I had a feeling it was both.

I was saved from trying to fill the heavy space between us by Maddie pulling up in her ancient Jetta. She honked at us as she parked, then she pulled something out of the backseat and ran up the hill with two canvas bags full of more greenery, this time in darker, eggplant purple tones.

She dumped the bags, then she smiled at me. She was still all legs and arms but instead of the coltish teen I remembered, she’d slipped into her early twenties.

Hell, I was pretty sure she was the same age as Emma.

How the hell did that happen?

And it was a rude reminder just how many years separated Emma and I. Was that why I was feeling responsible for her?

No.

That was definitely the problem. I was feeling protective for very dangerous reasons. I had to keep reminding myself of my own rules.

I didn’t get involved with people I worked with—period. Been there and destroyed that with fire.

“Sorry I’m late, Emma. Mr. Brooks pulled some more greens for you. Wait until you see the Bells of Ireland he just got in. It’s going to look so cool trailing from the tree. Especially with the fairy lights you told me about.” She started pulling bundles out of the bags and the crinkle of cellophane from the bundles brought me back to the days of unpacking deliveries for my dad.

She waved at me with a bundle of purple pampas, the feathery leaves swaying happily. “Hey, Mason. Your dad says hi and he really loved the stuffed chicken you had sent over yesterday. He also said to stop sending them, even though you really know that’s not true.”

“You got his number.” I shook my head. “He tells the delivery guy that every day—and then snatches the bag.”

She collapsed onto her knees. “Exactly. I’m really glad you asked me to come help. I love playing with displays. Macy is even letting me pick out the new window decorations. Can you believe it’s almost June?”

The quick-fire subject changes left me reeling. “No, I really can’t. But let’s slow down time for now, huh? We have a ton to do before Sunday.”

“We’ll get it done.” Emma’s voice was firm and determined.

“I know we will.” I met her gaze before breaking the connection to turn to Maddie. “Thanks for helping. We can get you on the books this afternoon and make sure you get paid.”

She waved me off. “Nah, just feed me and keep me in Diet Coke and we’ll be just fine.”

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